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Mary Jones and the Bunghole Mystery (FF, bd, nc, parody, more)

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Offline Sweetums

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. You must be 18 or over to read this story. In real life, incestuous relationships often cause deep psychological damage. This story is provided for entertainment purposes only. The author does not condone any sexual activity between close relatives in real life.

Chapter One: A Blinding Storm

Mary Jones came right out with it. "I'm very sorry Betty, but I'm certain of it. You must not go through with this marriage to Ronnie."

Mary was a petite and unconventional young lady. Her hair shown coppery gold in the sunlight of the summer's day. Unlike most of her peers, her hair was cut short and fell straight in a practical bob. Her left eye was a solid blue and her right eye was greener. She had the face of an angel: a bob of a nose, twinkling eyes, and a wide and easy smile.

She was one of the prettiest young women in River Heights, a town abundant with strikingly beautiful young women. Many were her dear friends who settled there after Mary had freed them all from white slavery (see the Secret of the Old Cock Ch. 18). She was petite at 5 foot 2 inches, and her body was 110 pounds of solid muscle. Her breasts were lean and nicely shaped, as were her hips, but people rarely noticed her stunning figure. Her modest attire, less revealing than the norm, neatly hid her athletic form. Her calling in life demanded that she walk around looking like a perfectly ordinary rich and spoiled teenage girl.

She could take on a roomful of mobsters with her martial training, her wits, and her refinement. She didn't even need clothes. She would undoubtedly be the world's first G-Woman. Not even J. Edgar Hoover himself could hope to slow her down.

Normally, Mary had an unwaveringly cheery disposition, but not at the moment. "Believe me, delivering such upsetting news is the hardest thing I'm required to do as a detective."

"Is there no hope you're wrong, Mary?" Betty Bloom, Mary's new friend, wailed in despair. They had met over breakfast at the Woodpeak Hotel where Mary was vacationing. Betty was a petite and dewy eighteen like Mary with pale, smooth skin. Betty's long, lustrous jet black hair and dark brown eyes added striking contrast to her loveliness.

"I knew we would need to have a detailed and frank talk about what I've discovered," said Mary. "Thus the one-on-one boat ride."

What Mary had discovered was a lot more than she needed to burden Betty with. Ronnie had a nice looking face, but he was a complete dud in bed. He had never heard of foreplay. He was a liar and cheat who had repeatedly tried to hump everything in the hotel with a skirt. How did Mary know all this with certainty? Ronnie's creampie was simmering inside her rectum at this very moment. He liked the back door. His splooge dribbling into her after he took her without preparation or precursor had been singularly uninspiring. For most women, it would have been torture, but Mary was more rough and ready. There had to be a more delicate way to break this news to poor Betty.

"Why do you think I got you out here in the middle of the lake in this rented motorboat? I knew Ronnie is terrified of all things nautical and wouldn't come along." Mary had more than one reason for this private, intimate boat ride. Once this hard truth had landed in the poor girl's heart, Mary intended to console Betty by seducing her into a torrid lesbian affair.

Mary had turned off the motorboat's engine. They were drifting peacefully in the middle of the lake. "How can I put this?" said Mary, sitting pressed up close to Betty, face to face. "As a hardened detective, I'm used to staring down the depravity of the world. Even the words I might use are too coarse to despoil your innocence with."

"I need to know, Mary!" the desperate girl cried. "You must despoil me! Despoil away!"

"Well, I witnessed an encounter between Ronnie and one of the hotel's maids," said Mary. "I can't say the words to you. He did this." Mary grabbed Betty forcefully and lodged her tongue in her astonished mouth. She forcefully teased the underside of Betty's tongue with hers.

When Mary drew back to gauge Betty's reaction, they were both panting and a little flushed. "Go on," moaned Betty.

Mary said, "I must know that what I have to convey to you will not utterly destroy you. Has anyone told you about what happens on your wedding night?"

"Rest assured, my mamma has told me everything," answered Betty with a knowing smirk. "She told me that at some point the man will grab me and say words I don't understand. When that happens, I am to make sure that this part of me is uncovered." She indicated her pelvic region with a circling motion of her hand. "Otherwise, my wedding dress might be damaged. I am to lay down on the bed and shut my eyes. I am to spread my legs as far apart as possible, and think of Christ. I hope she didn't mean the Crucifixion. That sounds painful."

"That's modern 1930's sex education for you," said Mary, looking away gravely. "Well, Ronnie did the wedding night thing with the maid in the broom closet. That's a sin."

"Well," Betty said uncertainly, "My mother told me boys will be boys. It's in their nature. She says we must forgive them this else have an unhappy marriage."

This was going to be a harder sell than Mary had expected. Mary foresaw Betty's impending wedding night with horror. She saw the torture and the pain. She saw the gloating nonchalance of the cheating Ronnie heaving and relieving himself into this poor innocent. The names he would call her. The ways he would humiliate her. It couldn't stand. "Okay, how about this, Betty," she said gravely. "I spoke to the maid afterwards, and Ronnie did it wrong."

"He did it... wrong?" asked Betty.

"Yes, boys don't automatically know how," said Mary. "Their father has to teach them."

"Well, what part did he get wrong?" asked Betty.

"He went in the wrong hole," said Mary.

"Oh, that sounds serious," said Betty gravely.

"It's very serious. You're not going to have any babies out of your anus," said Mary.

"Oh Mary," Betty laughed, red faced. "Don't be so coarse. That's... back there... right?" With more seriousness, she said, "Maybe I could teach him."

"Boys like Ronnie don't listen to girls," said Mary. "Has he ever listened to you?"

"Oh," said Betty. "You're right." She added sadly, tears streaking out of her eyes, "I guess there's nothing for it."

"I'm afraid not, Betty, but I have some good news to go along with the bad," said Mary. "I can teach you how to tell if a boy can perform as a husband BEFORE you get engaged."

"I'm all ears!" enthused Betty.

"Well, first of all," said Mary, "have you ever given yourself pleasure... down there?"

"Mary, I'm surprised at you!" Betty scolded. "I would never risk my immortal soul merely to explore my own body where I should not."

"I'm very sorry to have offended," Mary said.

"I have washed myself though," Betty confided, cheeks flushing. "Real thoroughly. After all, cleanliness is next to Godliness."

Mary paused. Did she have the right to steal Betty's innocence? Mary reflected on an unjust world that rarely gave a girl any choice of whether, when, or where. The world did not even care who. She wanted no part of such barbarism. Yet she knew that in her loving care, Betty would always be cherished. She would always be empowered to express her own unique brilliance. Her voice and her choice would always be honored. And most importantly, Betty would always orgasm first. That settled it.

"Mary, are you okay?" Betty ventured. "I didn't mean to get all... flustered... when you showed me the other thing." She finished with resolve, "I can take it!"

"You need to have at least ten private conversations like this with a boy before even considering him." Mary's tongue invaded Betty's mouth and pacified her with a deep kiss. She reached under Betty's thigh length skirt and pulled her panties aside. She explored the brunette beauty's vulva with her fingers, stroked her lips, felt her clitoris and its hood. Betty squirmed at this new, unimagined, thrillingly pleasurable, and almost certainly sinful attention. Mary held her firmly. Her opening was small and tight, with an intact hymen. Every aspect of Betty's body should be her decision. Until she could teach her more about her own body, finger banging her was out of the question. This left only one other course of action for Mary.

"Don't do the wedding night thing with a boy or they might misunderstand," Mary informed her. "But for the purposes of my demonstration, I want you to do the wedding night thing for me now."

"The wedding night thing? Right here and now?" asked Betty. "It sounds sinful."

"Teaching happiness is never sinful, Betty," argued Mary.

"Oh all right..." said Betty dubiously. She removed her panties and her skirt. She lay back on the motorboat's wide bench seat. She closed her eyes tightly. She threw her legs apart in spectacular splits, laying bare both holes. Her impossibly tiny wet slit was crowned with a cute little black bush clearly managed for beach wear. Her tiny dimple of a pucker was scrubbed as clean as a nun on Sunday. "Our father who art in heaven..." Betty began.

Mary put her mouth on Betty's wet slit. It smelled and tasted of a combination of molasses and that weed they smoked down at the jazz club. It was such a marvelous, earthy flavor. As Mary's tongue and lips savored this new delight, Betty's tune changed. "... hallowed be thy-yi-yi! naaaaahuhuh... hnnnn! Oh God! Oh Christ! I feel strange. I feel strange! NAAAAAAHAHAWWW!" Betty's orgasmic cry echoed across the water of the lake like thunder. Or was that actual thunder?

The sky had been blue and cloudless! Little drips of rain washed over them and dewed their skin. Was God simply out to get her? If she was, it was probably about the priest (see The Forbidden Staircase Ch. 20). "Hold that thought, love," Mary said sweetly to Betty. She rifled through the motorboat's small storage area. There were no raincoats or life preservers aboard. She envisioned a swift kick from her foot forcibly dilating the rectum of the old man at the rental agency.

Mary fired up the motorboat's engine and went to steer the boat back the way they'd come. Unfortunately, that shoreline was already obscured by the onrushing storm. She looked around frantically for a safe alternative. She saw only one thing that comforted her. Betty's blouse had become soaked in the rain. With her bra cast aside, her perfect breasts pressed against the thin silk. Her nipples stood dark, erect, and luscious against the fabric.

But there was no time for such thoughts at present. Mary gunned the boat into motion, turned it sharply towards the far shore, and desperately raced the pressing storm. Within seconds they were overtaken, and visibility dropped to near zero. A moment later, there was a huge crash. Betty was thrown roughly against the windscreen, cracking it with her head. Freezing swirling water rushed over their feet. She grabbed her new love and made to abandon the craft. "But Mary," cried the terrified girl, "I can't swim!"

"Hold tightly to me then," Mary said calmly. Firmly grasping Betty, she leaned overboard and fell into the bitingly cold lake. Mary immediately saw that they'd hit a log at the waterline. The boat was sinking rapidly. She grabbed the flailing Betty firmly around the neck with one arm and set off side stroking to shore.

"I can't feel my arms, Mary," Betty sobbed. "You should leave me and save yourself!"

(To be continued)
« Last Edit: March 28, 2021, 06:56:35 AM by Sweetums »



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Reply #1 on: March 27, 2021, 11:41:37 PM
Chapter Two: Three Grateful Girls

"If you have life enough in you to complain, Betty, you're coming with me," insisted Mary. She kept swimming. She hoped she was swimming straight. Visibility was near zero. If she swam straight, she knew she had more than enough stamina to get them to shore. Lightning lit up the impenetrable mist around them.

Mary had a sinking feeling as she kept swimming with Betty. Her friend was an easily handled dead weight. If she was swimming straight, she figured she should have reached shore by now. Mary was swimming toward the majority of lightning flashes. She figured it was marginally more likely the bolts were hitting land than the lower altitude lake. She was getting tired.

A rowboat loomed into view. Mary grabbed an oar as it passed and croaked, "Ahoy! My friend and I are drowning here!"

A girl's voice cried out, "I'm pulling the oar, hold on!" The girl dragged them to the side of the boat.

Mary worked her way around to the back of the rowboat. "You have rope?"

"A little bit," said the girl, and threw one end down to Mary.

Mary looped the rope around Betty's chest and under her arms. She gave the end back to the girl. "Now back up and haul. Really put your back into it." Betty was now trapped against the back of the rowboat, her face out of the churning water. Mary climbed lightly over her into the rowboat. They hauled Betty up into the boat with a maniacal burst of strength. They were in.

"You are very strong, Mr.?" the girl asked.

"Mary Jones," she croaked, collapsing into the hull. "Miss Mary Jones at your service."

"The detective??" the girl marveled. "Now I can believe you beat up a white slavery ring all by yourself. Oh, I'm Mabel Quincy, by the way."

Betty was coughing to life. Mary said, "My frozen and waterlogged friend here is Betty Bloom. Lie down, Mabel; you're a lightning rod."

Mabel lay down toward them eye-to-eye with Mary. "Sure thing. You seem to know what you're doing. Sorry I mistook you for a man. It's the short hair."

"Think nothing of it," said Mary. Their new wet friend Mabel was a stunner. Her auburn hair was bedraggled around her round pretty face and intense hazel eyes. Her large breasts for her youthful age were straining at her one piece blue bathing outfit. She had the hips and bottom to match. She smiled, and Mary, who had almost died from hypothermia mere minutes ago, felt warm inside.

"I may need you for a case," Mabel said intently.

Blinding lightning boomed close by a moment later. "Gladly," said Mary, "but let's not die first." Betty and Mabel stayed down in the hull, shivering and hugging for warmth. Mary took the oars. The rowboat was being driven by wave action toward the land, Mary figured.

"Look, we're saved!" cried Betty pointing forward to land looming out of the clearing mist.

"The waves are driving us toward those rocks," said Mary.

"We're lost!" cried Betty.

"We'll have to brave the lightning," cried Mary. "Help me pull on the oars. Pull!" The three young women fought with the oars at Mary's direction and narrowly missed the sharp rocks. Moments later they grounded on a small sandy beach nestled between two deadly outcrops.

They lay exhausted on the wet beach in the pounding rain, dry land. "I thought I was dead a hundred times out there," Betty marveled. "You girls are the bees knees! Mabel, you for showing up and saving us, and Mary, for saving all of us!"

"Betty's right, Mabel," said Mary. "We would have died if not for you."

"Likewise," said Mabel, grinning from ear to ear. "That's what new friends are for."

"Okay, new friends," said Mary. "Let's crawl the heck out of this lightning storm. Otherwise, we’ll become the three most smoking hot girls girls on the lake!"

"Too late, I'd say," Betty snickered.

"I know these rocks," said Mabel. "There's an old weather-beaten bungalow right near here."

"Crawl onward, MacDuff," said Mary.

In a few minutes, the three hunched over girls arrived at the bungalow. The door was locked, but the window right next to it was unlocked. They climbed inside. It was a two story place. The ground floor was storage for a number of canoes and other boating stuff. Upstairs they found a camp stove, bedrolls, tinned food, and a bathroom.

Mabel said, "Dibs on the shower!" She shimmied out of her bathing suit on the way to the bathroom.

Mary said, "Hey, the hot water could be limited." Mary took a good look at Mabel as she trotted by and noted her full, luscious, pink-nippled tits. They had to be twice the size of her own. And down below, Mabel was a natural redhead.

"Double dibs!" Betty said, dragging herself up from the floor. She took off her blouse. It was the only article of clothing left to her after the boating accident.

"Triple dibs!" Mary cried, shucking her clothing while dashing after the two. All three of them arrived at the modest-sized shower. Mabel turned on the water to heat up. The three stood there, smiling at each other and shivering a bit from their ordeal. Mary said, "I guess the three of us are going to have to squeeze into that tiny stall."

"Sounds like a challenge!" said Betty, "Especially with what you're working with Mabel. You must eat your Wheaties!"

"Thank you, but sometime they're more harm than good," said Mabel. "They seem to attract the wrong sort of boy and scare away the right ones."

"Well, all I know is you're going to have a very happy husband," Betty remarked. She collapsed into tears.

"What did I say?" asked Mabel.

"Betty just broke up with her fiancee," Mary explained. "Our near-death experience must have momentarily pushed it out of her mind." They hugged Betty close, three naked girls cuddled together in a cold bathroom.

"I know all about grief, lollipop," said Mabel. "I lost my mother a month ago. My father died six years ago on that same dratted lake we just escaped."

"I'm so sorry Mabel," said Betty. "That's a real tragedy. Ronnie was nice but, well, actually he wasn't."

"Water's warm!" said Mary, and they squeezed in together and soaped up in the hot water, three giggling slippery eels. It got intimate. The three grew quiet. Mary was having a hard time maintaining her composure. Her two girlfriends slid their slippery bodies on hers as they all vied for the shower spray. It was making her lightheaded with sexual excitement.

"What happens to you now, Mabel?" asked Betty.

"I'm staying at the Mountypego Hotel until my new guardians can collect me," said Mabel. "They'll be like my new parents until I'm a woman."

"I'll make you a woman," said Mary, and deeply French kissed the glowing redhead.

"Mmm, you're a good kisser," Mabel purred. Betty locked lips with her next.

Watching them, Mary was driven nearly to her limit. "We should stay here tonight together, cozy from the storm. We can make a nest of bedrolls, drink hot cocoa, and tell ghost stories all night."

Betty kissed Mary deeply. "You need to finish teaching me how to pick a good husband."

"I need to learn that!" Mabel piped up.

"I'll teach you both," said Mary. "Then you can practice what you've learned on me." The three girls hugged in a three-way kiss. "I'll cook the cocoa while you two build our nest."

They sat in a circle on the laid out and assembled bedrolls with layers of cozy blankets wrapped around them. "Let's finish our cocoa before I teach you two more about sex. We want to allow for thrashing around, and we don't want to knock over any cocoa. Believe me, there's nothing more frustrating than having to deal with a sticky mess right in the middle of sex. That's why boys are not all they're cracked up to be!" The three of them laughed at this and almost spilled their cocoa anyway. Mary continued, "Don't get me wrong. I would never give up boys. But you need to remember, girls. If you're mad enough to spit bricks at some stupid thing a boy said or did, or DIDN'T say or DIDN'T do, don't kill him with an axe handle or poison his coffee. Just leave him for a woman and DON'T invite him to participate."

"I'd say that's valuable sex education," said Mabel.

"Hear, hear!" said Betty, and they clanked mugs.

Mary said, "Mabel, I want to say again I'm sorry for your loss. I lost my own mother when I was six years old."

"That's awful!" said Mabel. "You must have suffered terribly. Did your father remarry?"

"Kind of," said Mary. "Up until recently, I never saw my father with another woman. But then again, my father traveled a lot. My father is very hot-blooded. I know he must have seen women then. In the last couple of years, he's had a steady girlfriend. She's a wonderful girl. I think they'll be together for life, God willing."

"You call her a girl," said Betty. "Isn't she your father's age?"

"No, she's only a few years older than I am," said Mary.

"Vroom!" said Mabel. "Your daddy must be quite handsome, and energetic too!"

"He is very, very much so, guilty on both counts, as he would say. He's a lawyer," said Mary. "And don't give me that look. Stay away from him, he's mine! Or rather Margaret's. You know what I mean. One friend seeing my dad is enough!"

"How do you know he's so energetic?" asked Betty with an expectant smirk.

Mary said, "Well the first clue was, I heard them. AHH! AHH! AHH!" The two girls erupted in laughter. "At first, I thought she was hurt, so I peeked through a keyhole. She wasn't being hurt. I'll show you some of what he was doing in a minute. Now finish your cocoa!"

"Mary, this might be a good time to hire you," said Mabel. "I want you to look into my guardians. They're supposed to be distant relatives of my mother. When I first wrote to them, they took an awful long time to respond. They said they were traveling. The letter I got back was not at all cordial. Now, all of the sudden, they're showing up to collect me! I can't believe my sweet mother would, in case of an accident, put me with relatives like these. Something is wrong."

"Never fear! Mary Jones is on the case!"

The cocoa was finished. They set their empty mugs aside. Mary showed Mabel how to touch her clitoris. Mabel had never touched herself directly before, and never to orgasm. While Mabel touched herself and watched, Mary got her mouth between Betty's legs and tongued and sucked her to several orgasms. She showed Mabel how she stuck her spit-lubricated index finger into Betty's rectum. She stroked upwards as she did this, causing Betty to have even more intense orgasms. After watching Betty cry out, scream, and thrash through crisis after crisis, Mabel shrieked and fell over. She'd stimulated herself to her first orgasm.

After a short talk, Mary convinced Betty it was important for her future husband's happiness for her to learn how to touch herself. Then Betty and Mabel switched. Mary enjoyed the smell and taste of Mabel while Betty practiced touching herself. Mabel tasted like an oak casket where some sweet wine had fermented, though wetter and slicker. Now that Mabel had launched herself, Mary's tongue, lips, and finger brought her to new and incredible heights of ecstasy. It was an eye-opening experience for Mary's friends. As Mabel said afterwards, "If I'd known my vulva was this much fun, I wouldn't have wasted my childhood playing hopscotch!" Mabel said "vulva" now because Mary had shown them and told them all the proper scientific names for a woman's parts.

The three of them played another round of this sublime game where they used their mouths on Mary while the other masturbated. Mary gave them pointers as they practiced and showed them all the things she liked best. Mary, always hot-blooded, was brought to numerous earthshaking orgasms by the pair.

Mabel fell asleep while Mary was showing Betty a new technique she called “sixty-nine.” The girls could now both use their mouths on the other. They had several close mutual orgasms this way, feeling as though they were melting into each other. Sated and fulfilled, they calmed and drifted to sleep wrapped tightly around each other.

(To be continued)
« Last Edit: August 07, 2021, 05:11:50 PM by Sweetums »



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Reply #2 on: March 28, 2021, 04:45:11 AM
Chapter Three: Unguarded

Mary awakened to the sight of Betty's beautiful face cuddled up close to hers. Mabel was not in bed with them, and had apparently left the bungalow. Mary and Betty had stayed up all night having sex. Mabel was a heavy sleeper!

She had left a note that said simply, "Thank you to the owners of this bungalow. It rescued us from a deadly storm. Sorry about the missing cocoa! Yours Truly, Three Grateful Girls."

They found some old hiking shorts for Betty to wear. She had lost her skirt and panties in the boating accident. They added to the note, "PS: Thanks for the pair of shorts."

Mabel's hotel, The Mountypego, was nearby. They decided to check on her before catching a cab from there back to the Woodpeak Motel. "Are all the hotels around here metaphors for penises?" mused Mary, and Betty laughed.

The two friends got to the lobby of the Mountypego. An annoying lady was there in front of them causing trouble. She was talking very loudly to the hotel manager over the front desk. The manager's voice was very soft, trying to calm her.

The lady shrieked, "I'm here to meet my ward, Mabel Quincy, but she's nowhere to be found. Oh, she's in the restaurant? Why didn't you tell me that the first time? Or the second? Or the third? Your staff is completely incompetent and unhelpful. I don't care that you had ten staff running all over trying to find her! You should have known where she was all along! She's only a child! I don't care what her driver's license says! She's only a child!" Very quietly, the manager had called this shrieking maniac Mrs. Beorn.

Mrs. Beorn stormed into the restaurant. "There you are!" she screamed at Mabel. "Listen carefully, my new ward," the insufferable woman growled. "You will report to my hotel room for your interview, room 512, at exactly 10:30 AM this morning. That's in half an hour. Don't be early or late, or you will regret it." The woman stormed off.

Mary said, "Betty, we'd better go find a place to hide in this lady's hotel room. We need to see this 'interview' and make sure Mabel is actually in safe hands. Mrs. Beorn seems off her rocker."

Mary and Betty took the elevator to the fifth floor. Not surprisingly, the door was locked. Mary knocked and nobody answered. Mrs. Beorn wasn't in the room.

Mary found a bellhop on the floor. She said she'd lost her room key. Would he please let her in? She explained her mother Mrs. Beorn would be angry. She made this request while stroking the bellhop's penis through his pants. Once he let the girls in, Mary fell to her knees and unzipped the grateful bellhop. She finished him off with her mouth, neatly swallowing his product. The bellhop let himself out.

The angry Mrs. Beorn's room was a suite. Figuring that this interview would be held in the main area, Mary and Betty hid in the coat closet. The door had ventilation slats in it that gave a virtually unobscured view of the entire living area. Then they waited.

They didn't have to wait long before Mrs. Beorn stormed in carrying, of all things, a rope with a meat hook tied onto one end of it. She threw this over the chandelier so the hook hung down. She tied the other end of the rope off on a wall sconce.

The girls looked at each other with dread. "Whatever you do, Betty," said Mary, "don't give us away. We're intruders in this lady's hotel room. If she finds us, she has the perfect right to kill us and call it self-defense."

Mabel arrived shortly after. "There you are!" said Mrs. Beorn. "And you are... right on time. Well, it's a good thing to see that you can at least do SOMETHING right."

"What's the hook for?" Mabel asked suspiciously.

Mrs. Beorn walked past the girl and locked the hotel room door. Standing between her and the door, she asked, "Tell me, what's your name again? Mabel. Are you a dirty trollop?"

"I beg your pardon?" said Mabel.

"Are you intact?" Mrs. Beorn. "As my ward, you must be a virgin. If you've ever had a boy between your knees, matters will go worse for you. I can't abide a girl who's a dirty trollop."

"I have a hymen," Mabel said with great embarrassment. Good thing that, thought Mary. Many girls never had one. Of the ones that did, there were a hundred ways to lose your hymen other than a boy.

"Well then," said Mrs. Beorn, smiling. "Let's see it."

"What?" said Mabel, confused.

"Well, you didn't think I'd take your word for it, did you?" said Mrs. Beorn, the anger rising in her voice. "Present your dirty cunt for inspection at once!"

Mabel was frozen on the spot. Mary saw the realization in her eyes.

Whatever their age, until they were twenty-one, wards were slaves to their guardians, who legally controlled their fortunes and their lives. If she disobeyed this woman, her life was basically over, from a legal standpoint.

Gritting her teeth in disgust, Mabel dropped her panties and stepped out of them.

"Well, come closer," the woman barked, "and bring that chair with you.”

Mabel complied, and stood directly before the woman.

"How do you expect me to fish around in your disgusting cunt with your legs closed? One leg up on the chair, before I lose my patience!" That already happened a long time ago, thought Mary, along with her marbles.

Mabel sullenly put one foot on the chair. Mrs. Beorn reached under Mabel's dress and fussed around. As the woman did this, the look on Mabel's face was one of utter torment.

Mary had seen that look before, during her week as a sex slave. She vowed in that instant that Mrs. Beorn would pay dearly. She would be paid back a thousand fold.

"Well it seems you weren't lying," said Mrs. Beorn, removing her hand and wiping it with a handkerchief. "And a good thing, too. The only suitable position for a trollop is on her back in a $2 brothel under 50 johns a day. Would you like that?"

"No ma'am," Mabel said quietly.

"Now, you can aspire to be a toy, if you can pass the test," said Mrs. Beorn. "Until then, you're still a trollop."

"A toy ma'am?" Mabel asked. The girl was in so much shock, she still had her legs spread and one foot up on the chair.

As the exchange continued, Mrs. Beorn walked behind Mabel, as if to inspect her from all angles. Mrs. Beorn produced a small cord with slipknots on either end. She slipped an end over one of Mabel's wrists and pulled it tight. She pulled Mabel's other wrist back. In a deft move, before the girl could gain any leverage, Mrs. Beorn captured that wrist as well.

Now Mabel's hands were tied behind her back. Mrs. Beorn held onto the cord binding Mabel's hands so she couldn't run away.

In their hiding place, Betty gasped in shock at the sudden attack on Mabel. Mary shoved her hanky into Betty's mouth and clamped her hand over that. Luckily, Betty's gasp had been drowned out by Mabel's cry of fear.

Mrs. Beorn yanked Mabel's arms up behind her sharply and put the cord binding her wrists over the meat hook. "Take your foot off that chair, silly girl. You'll dislocate your shoulder."

Mabel stepped down off the chair. Mrs. Beorn pulled on the other end of the meat hook rope. Mabel, her arms forced painfully up behind her, stood uncomfortably on her tiptoes. Mrs. Beorn retied her end tightly on the wall sconce.

"It's a funny thing about this hotel. It's the reason why I chose it. It's rebuilt. The first version burnt down because a chandelier fell in one of the guest rooms. That was back in the days of gas lighting. The hotel is now rewired with electric lights. But all the ceiling fixtures, even the wall sconces, can still take the weight of two men. Isn't that handy? I thought so."

Mrs. Beorn produced a tennis ball with a leather cord punched through it. In her other hand, she held a syringe filled with a clear fluid. "Much as I love to hear in detail your cries of fear, this is a respectable establishment. You're going to open your mouth very wide and I'm going to put this tennis ball into it. If you'd rather not, here's the shot of heroin that will take you to your $2 brothel."

Mabel opened her mouth wide, her eyes filled with fear. Mrs. Beorn shoved the tennis ball into it and tied the leather cord tightly behind Mabel's head.

"Your toes and arms are hurting aren't they? Simply nod if they are, stupid girl! I thought so." Mrs. Beorn pulled up two chairs and helped Mabel get up onto them on her knees. She pulled the two chairs apart so that Mabel's arms were pulled up more tightly behind her, but not as tight as before.

Mrs. Beorn spent some time adjusting Mabel, the chairs, and the hook. Mabel's legs were spread wide with her knees on the two chairs. Her hands were pulled behind her tightly enough to limit her freedom of movement, but not as painfully tight as before. Mrs. Beorn took the cushions off the nearby couch and put them on the floor between the two chairs, underneath Mabel.

Mrs. Beorn produced a sharp scissors and roughly cut Mabel's clothes off her body. As the pieces fell onto the couch cushions between the chairs, Mrs. Beorn spoke. "You will be my husband's sexual plaything twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Some of my husband's toys haven't lasted all that long. Let's both hope you are more durable.”

Mabel lost her composure and emptied her bladder onto the couch cushions below.

“Oh look at that,” chortled Mrs. Beorn. “I was wondering when you would piss in fear. There's more where that came from, I'd wager. We'll find out. You don't know what fear is yet."

As Mrs. Beorn kept cutting, she kept talking. "The only rule you need to know from now on is that my husband is not allowed any cunt other than MINE. You will NEVER get his dick in your cunt. You will never get a BABY in your cunt. You will never get ANY dick in your cunt. I will check you periodically. If you are not intact, or if I even think I smell semen in your cunt, your life is forfeit. Do I make myself clear? Nod, you stupid girl. Or your heroin injection and $2 brothel await. That's better."

Mrs. Beorn brought over and showed Mabel an object that looked like a wooden dagger. Instead of a blade, it had a delicately carved wooden penis. It was on the long side, 7" long and average girth, by Mary's estimation. When Mabel saw it, another squirt of fearful pee shot out of her.

Mrs. Beorn chuckled. "This is an exact replica of my husband's penis. He’ll fuck you whenever I want to watch. You are to be prepared at all times. I'll start you off this time." She rolled a latex condom onto the phallus. She produced a container of shortening. She slathered some of it on the phallus. She slathered more on Mabel's backside and worked it into her with first one and then two fingers.

Mrs. Beorn put the phallus against Mabel's anus. With a deft jerk, Mrs. Beorn lodged the head in Mabel's rectum. Mabel almost fell forward off the chairs. Mrs. Beorn steadied her.

"Don't fall forward girl! You'll lose both your arms!” instructed Mrs. Beorn. “I'm not going to steady you again.” she threatened.

“Steady on it girl! Control yourself!” ordered Mrs. Beorn in frustration. “Are you ready?" Mary could see Mabel bite down firmly on the tennis ball. She held steady and even pushed back to keep her balance. Mrs. Beorn rocked the phallus farther and farther into her rectum. Soon the woman was pumping the full length of the phallus in and out of the helpless girl with increasing speed.

“This is your entire future, ungrateful girl,” Mrs. Beorn pointed out. “Love the shape of my husband’s cock. Learn to authentically love it. Show me you love it. Everything will be easier for you then.”

As tears poured down Mabel's face, Mrs. Beorn suddenly stopped the phallus. "Oh, where are my manners?" Leaving the phallus buried in Mabel's rectum, she fetched a portable massager much like the model Mary owned. It had straps on it. Mrs. Beorn strapped the device to Mabel's pelvic area. "My husband made me promise to be nicer to his toys. We wouldn't want you to kill yourself like the last one, oh no."

Mrs. Beorn turned the device on, high and loud. Mabel jumped. Her eyes fell shut and then opened again. Mrs. Beorn went back to churning the phallus in Mabel's behind as if she were churning some particularly reluctant butter.

Mabel's legs shook. Mrs. Beorn said, "You're getting close, girl. We don't want you to lose your arms, do we? I'm not an ogre. Here, I'll steady you." Mrs. Beorn took a leather belt and looped it around Mabel's neck. She got a dagger and held it reversed in the same hand holding the phallus forward. Was she planning to kill Mabel?

She churned Mabel with her phallus and dagger hand while choking her with the belt in the other. As Mabel's face turned red from lack of air, Mrs. Beorn spoke to her. "Since this is a hotel, and we must maintain reasonable propriety, you get the gag. Once we get you settled at home, I’m eager to hear your screams while I watch. The louder the better. But my husband is weak. He can't finish if his little plaything is screaming in pain. So he will choke you exactly like this at the end. He likes you to pass out just as he ejaculates into you. That way he feels the shudders and contractions of your anus as you give up the fight for life. Show me now, girl. Show me how you’ll fight for life. Yesss, there's the rest of your piss. Let it all... out."

Mabel's face was now dark purple and her eyes were bugged out. Her body shook in a terrible frenzy, part orgasm, part death throe. As Mabel's body went limp, Mrs. Beorn's dagger flashed up and cut the cord binding Mabel's wrists together, saving her arms.

The unconscious girl fell like a rag doll face-first into the urine-soaked couch cushions on the floor. "Perfect landing," said Mrs. Beorn. "We wouldn't want to leave any marks on your pretty face."

(To be continued)
« Last Edit: August 07, 2021, 06:34:21 PM by Sweetums »



Offline Sweetums

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Chapter Four: Game, Set, Match!

Mary peered through the slats of the coat closet at Mrs. Beorn's malevolent progress. Mary's friend Mabel was passed out on the hotel room floor laying in her own piss. Mary was relieved to see the girl's terrible ordeal was finally over. Mrs. Beorn drew the phallus out of Mabel's unconscious rectum like the sword from the proverbial stone. She rolled the shit-soiled condom off it into the trash.

Mary still had her handkerchief in Betty's mouth and her hand over it to keep her friend from crying out. Betty was shaking in a state of shock from what she'd just witnessed their friend Mabel endure. Mary held Betty close and bided her time.

Mary was wrong about it being the end. Mrs. Beorn pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. She walked around to stand over Mabel's head. She rolled the unconscious girl over onto her back.  The woman squatted over the unconscious girl's slackly open mouth. Mrs. Beorn urinated a squirt of piss into Mabel's mouth. Hsss.

Mabel coughed, choked, and sputtered awake. "Good, you're tough," said Mrs. Beorn. "You'll get used to it, but you'll still have to be tough to endure it several times a day. Who knows, you may last a few years. Now, open wide and drink it. DRINK IT!" Hsss. Mabel swallowed. "Good girl." Hsss. Swallow. Hsss. Swallow. Mrs. Beorn had a full bladder. The humiliating exercise continued for some time.

Mrs. Beorn lifted her dress as if to sit on the toilet and sat down on Mabel's mouth. "Use your tongue, stupid girl. Now add some suction. Not bad. As soon as you satisfy me, I'll let you shower." The evil woman ground her vulva on Mabel's face, ordering the girl to lick faster, lick deeper, and suck harder. She slapped Mabel's perfect pink-nippled tits painfully to emphasize her orders. After several minutes of this, Mrs. Beorn sighed and moaned. Then she stood up. "You will get better at satisfying me. You're already decent. You and your boarding school buddies must have been studying more than Latin together. Get up, lazy girl. Off to the shower with you."

Once Mabel had staggered off to the bathroom, Mrs. Beorn slipped her panties back on, brushed herself off, and tidied the room. She was amazingly efficient at it. It was no doubt the practice of long years at cleaning up these bouts. She stowed the suspicious objects away meticulously. Normal human people would now never suspect that pure evil lived in this place.

When Mabel got out of the shower, Mrs. Beorn had new attire for her.  The ankle length navy blue wool dress was not exactly summer attire. There were uncomfortable-looking high heels to match. The underwear Mrs. Beorn had for Mabel was also wool. "It wears better," was the woman's comment. Mabel looked like an itchy Mennonite. "Now, toy, you have earned the name. You deserve to go play with your friends. I have a hair appointment," said the woman. "Meet me in the restaurant at 6 PM for dinner. I dare you to be early, late, or not show up at all. I think you are ready for the next level of my punishments. I'm anxious to test your mettle with them. Will you misbehave?"

"No, ma'am," said Mabel in a broken voice.

"A pity," said the woman. "My husband, your new master, will be joining us this evening. He will certainly be horny, and since you are a new plaything, you should be prepared to service him all night long. Yes, my new pet, he will break you in quite thoroughly. I'll relish my good night's sleep while you entertain him. It's a pity we're in a hotel. We'll have to use the tennis ball. I long to hear you scream until you're hoarse and then scream more. Hmm. The time will come soon." Mrs. Beorn then left the hotel room.

Mary held Betty back. "We don't want to further shame Mabel by letting her know we saw the whole thing," whispered Mary. Mabel left a minute later. Once Mabel had left, the two girls popped out of the closet and exited the hotel room. Mabel was waiting for the elevator. By taking the stairs, Mary and Betty beat her to the lobby.

Mary and Betty met Mabel as she stepped off the elevator. "What's with the square getup?" asked Mary.

"Thank goodness you're here!" said Mabel, hugging them both and giving them each a peck. "Oh this? My guardian made me wear it. It itches like the plague. Listen, Mary. I have good news."

"You have good news, you say?" marveled Mary. "You are an exceptional girl, Mabel Quincy."

"This woman, these people, they are not my real guardians," said Mabel.

"How can you be so sure?" asked Mary.

"The woman, Mrs. Beorn, called my mother 'Mary,' but her name is 'Marie.' I mean, it was. No relative of ours would ever make such a mistake," concluded Mabel.

"That's compelling evidence," said Mary. "The rational course of action would be to look into the matter immediately. But first, it occurs to me that we ought to call our motel, Betty. They probably think we were killed in the storm. People could be worried."

Betty was the first to call. "No, Mrs. Jackson, I'm alive. No, Mrs. Jackson, I'm not coming to the wedding. No, I'm not marrying Ronnie. I have it on good authority the he already did the wedding night thing. Yes, that thing. The motel maid. HE says I'M a liar? What now? Oh, now he says he won't do it again? Which of us is the liar? No, I won't reconsider. You go ahead and call my aunt. Yes, I'll be back at the motel later today. Go right ahead. The same to you, Mrs. Jackson."

"Congratulations, Betty," said Mary. "I could swear that the girl I met at breakfast yesterday would never have been capable of that telephone call."

"I don't think she would have been, Mary," said Betty. "You changed my mind. You changed my heart. And the near-death experience didn't hurt either! I realize that God saved me for a purpose. Like you said, he gave me my own life to live."

"No," said Mary, "I said that SHE gave you your own life to live. Everyone will hear your voice when you shout it out loud. It's your life. It's now or never, for none of us will live forever, so you need to live while you're alive."

"You speak in riddles, Mary," Betty giggled. "Hmm. Catholics."

Next, Mary called home. "It's nice to hear your voice, Margaret. Is he there? Yes, please. Hello, daddy! No, I'm fine. I knew you might be worried. They found the motorboat? Pieces of it? I'm so sorry you worried, daddy! We hid from the storm in an old boat house, and we've just now walked back and reached a telephone. I swear, I was never in any danger. The storm must have wrecked the motorboat after I beached it. Now you don't have to come, daddy. I miss you too, more than you'll ever know. I'll see you in a few days. Bye."

"Wow," said Betty, touched. "You really love your daddy."

"More than he'll ever know," said Mary. "He's the perfect man." Mary said nonchalantly, "Now what were we about to do? Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Other than the whole impostor thing, how did the chat with with your new 'guardian' go, Mabel?"

The tormented girl's face darkened and she looked down. "Fine," she said.

"You don't look fine," said Mary.

"I never imagined there were people as evil as she is," said Mabel.

"That impression is inconsistent with the description 'fine'," said Mary.

"I'll be fine, Mary," said Mabel almost angrily. "Just expose these fake guardians. Find my real guardians, if there ever were any. Hurry!"

"Never fear. Hang in there!" said Mary. "Now, to deal with the most important matters first. How do we get you out of those terrible clothes? And how should we wile away our afternoon of leisure? I know! Let's do something you're good at. I know you were a champion tennis player at school. We should play doubles."

"I've developed a sudden aversion to tennis balls," said Mabel, grimacing.

Undeterred, Mary continued, "I know the perfect fourth. Let me call her."

Mary used the hotel lobby telephone again. "Hello, Norma. My friends and I need a fourth for tennis. Girlfriends, of course. I would never disappoint you. Yes, very. Oh yes, one of them. I knew you would. Mountypego Tennis Pavilion in, say, half an hour? See you there."

Mary's friend Norma Nicholas arrived. She was one of the girls Mary had rescued from white slavery a few months ago. She was a happy blonde who dressed conservatively and greatly enjoyed meeting new girls who shared her interests. Like Mary, Norma was a thoughtful and broadly curious sort of girl whose interests were not limited to boys. The attendant at the pavilion had tennis clothes for each of them. Mabel's underwear was as uncomfortable as the rest of her attire, so she opted to go without.

The game was agreed to be three sets. Mary and Mabel would be one team, while Betty and Norma would be the other. It was further agreed that the losing team would do a dare chosen by the winners. Mabel outshone them all. Mary's overall athleticism made up for her inexperience. Betty and Norma couldn't compete. Mary and Mabel won the match 3-0.

There was a small private bungalow attached to each court that had showers, a changing area, and a few amenities. The four girls retired there after their sweaty game. Mary said, "Now to the matter of the dare the winners ask the losers to perform. I have an idea. I think the losing team should perform oral sex on the winning team, one orgasm for each lost set, so that's three orgasms."

"Do you girls even know what oral sex is?" Norma asked Betty and Mabel.

"Oh, yes," answered Mabel. "Mary taught us about it last night."

"She did, did she?" remarked Norma. "Let me give you your next lesson."

Mary grabbed Betty for herself, pairing the beleaguered Mabel with the expert Norma, as she had planned all along. Mary dropped her panties. Mabel already had none. They sat in chairs in the pavilion. Mary gently guided Betty's mouth to her center of joy. She looked over to see Norma take her first taste of Mabel. "Oh such flavor!" enthused Norma of Mabel's wine cask sweetness. "And so juicy!" Norma grinned joyfully at Mary and returned to tasting and pleasuring Mabel.

Mabel's cries were wild as she released all her pent up emotions to Norma with six, seven, eight orgasms. Mabel was a limp shuddering rag by the time Betty had pushed Mary over the edge to her third. Betty was a sweet and dedicated new lover, but what had really made Mary's orgasms special was watching Mabel climax uproariously on Norma's expert tongue.

"It looks like Mabel is all played out, Betty," said Mary. "It's time for you to give Norma her next tasty treat."

"Gladly, Mary," said Betty, taking Mary's chair. "I was ready after the game. Your scent and taste make me drunk on love. Then Mabel's cries, they brought my moisture terribly. I'm aching for it."

"My favorite kind of girl," said Norma, and began making exquisite mouth love with Betty's juicy snatch. She teased Betty until she squealed by gently and wetly rolling Betty's nether lips between her mouth lips. Then she set to work in earnest. Within seconds, Betty squeaked out her first orgasm and didn't stop there.

Mary looked over at Mabel, who was peacefully asleep and snoring softly. Mary mused that it was a blessing that Mabel could sleep though anything. The ability would no doubt prove useful to the poor girl in the next few days. The sooner Mary could sort out this mess with Maude's guardians, the better.

(To be continued)
« Last Edit: March 30, 2021, 06:19:45 AM by Sweetums »