The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes (50 page)

Abigail shut the door behind her, and guided Linsey into the centre of the crowd. “Good flesh tones,” said another man, as he reached out and cupped one of Linsey’s breasts, hefting it as though trying to guess its weight. “Feels natural, too.” Linsey’s nipple stiffened as he rubbed his thumb around it. “Very convincing. I approve.”

“They are impressive, aren’t they?” said a slender Chinese woman. She grabbed the other and squeezed it, almost hard enough to cause pain. “It’s remarkable that she walks as well as she does without overbalancing.”

Another man, half-dressed like the first, with his cock already rising to parallel the floor, chuckled as he walked around to look at Linsey’s back. “I doubt she spends much time standing up,” he opined, running a finger between her buttocks, then turned to Abigail. “Fully functional, I hope?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I can’t get over how well she moves,” said the short man, relinquishing her breast. “Can she do jumping jacks?”

“I’m sure she can,” said Abigail, unfastening the leash from the collar. “Well, Roberta? You heard your master.”

“Yes, mistress,” said Linsey, trying to smile. The people stepped back to watch her breasts bounce as she did a series of star jumps. After the sixth, the short man told her to stop, then went up to her, grabbed her breasts again, and sucked a nipple into his mouth. “Hmm,” he said, his voice muffled. “They even taste like the real thing. Wonderful!”

The other woman – dark-skinned and dark-haired, wearing a sari that left one beautifully shaped hard-nippled breast free – nodded approvingly. “Good work, Professor,” she said to a bespectacled man wearing a white lab coat. “But is she flexible enough to touch her toes?”

The “professor’’ raised an eyebrow, and Linsey bent over, straining to reach her toes – something she hadn’t done in years. She’d come within a few inches of succeeding when lab coat said, “All right. Stop.”

Linsey looked up, and realized that he meant her to hold that position. The short man was still sucking on her right breast, refusing to be dislodged, and was patting the other back and forth, making it sway. The Chinese woman walked behind Linsey, fondled her wet cunt, then sniffed her fingers. “Not bad,” she said grudgingly, then slapped Linsey on the ass, hard enough that she nearly toppled over. “Very good,” she said, as she spanked the other cheek. “Nice convincing wobble, and they turn a lovely shade of pink, too. You’re an artist, Professor.”

“This I have to see,” said the Indian woman, walking around to stand behind Linsey. The two women took turns in spanking her, until they were joined by the second man, and soon she was being smacked on each cheek while another hand gently rubbed her pussy. The beads in Linsey’s ass, on their flexible shaft, shifted with every smack; they weren’t as thick as Phil’s cock had been, and they felt more like a wonderfully long finger probing and caressing her, but they were yet another reminder (as if she needed one) of the overwhelmingly intense orgasms she’d had from being masterfully sodomized. The recollection, combined with the rhythm of the spanking, the tingling of her cheeks, and the wonderful feeling of so many hands and mouths on some of the most sensitive parts of her body, soon had her on the verge of coming again. Go with it, said a voice in her head.

It’s humiliating, a vanishingly small part of her brain replied.

Who the fuck cares? When was the last time something felt this good?

That was all it took; soon, she was shaking and shrieking with the force of her orgasm, while the people fondling her propped her up and kept her from falling. She thought she could hear laughter and applause, but she wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t sure she cared.

When she could focus again, she saw a hard cock being waved invitingly in front of her face, and she opened her mouth wide to let it in without wondering whose it was. It had been so long since she’d sucked a dick that she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed it, how good it was to turn someone on and feel and taste the proof of it. The spanking had stopped, but there was still a hand between her thighs, and now both of her breasts were being sucked. She wasn’t sure how long it was before the cock in her mouth erupted, but she relished every second.

She felt the softening dick pop out of her mouth, and waited for it to be replaced by another; instead, she heard the Chinese woman say, “Were you
told to
swallow his come, fuckdoll?”

Linsey tried to think. “I wasn’t told to spit it out,” she replied, numbly.

The Indian woman laughed. “She has a point, Ting. You’ve programmed her well, Professor.”

“Except that she forgot to say ‘thank you’,” said the tallest of the men, reprovingly.

“Thank you, master,” Linsey gushed. “Thank you for letting me suck your cock, and thank you for coming in my mouth, master.”

“Hmp,” Ting grunted, and removed her little black dress, showing herself to be naked underneath. “Does she eat pussy as well?”

“As well as I can, mistress.”

This time, she was sure the laughter and applause were real. “Show me,” said Ting, lying down on the bed with her legs spread. Linsey dropped to all fours and crawled towards her, slowly kissing her way along one thigh to her crotch; it had been many years since she’d gone down on another woman, but she felt confi dent that she still remembered how to do it. As Ting began to purr, she also remembered
why
she’d done it, and began hoping someone would think to do it to her – if not Ting, then maybe Abigail or the Indian woman. Cunnilingus had been another thing Phil had done well . . . almost as skilfully and eagerly as Brianna had, back during their brief affair. Linsey found herself wishing Brianna were here, and fuzzily wondered whether offering to eat her out would be considered a suitable way to thank her for this wonderful gift.

She heard the professor muttering something about viruses and nanobots, then the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open, and a few seconds later a cock slid into her cunt. The man fucked her slowly, allowing her to concentrate on licking Ting, for which part of Linsey’s brain was weirdly grateful; she was vaguely convinced that a good fuckdoll would make sure that Ting’s pleasure came before her own. She was gratifi ed when Ting climaxed, allowing her to concentrate on the delightful sensations she was getting from the dick in her pussy and the beads in her ass – which rapidly intensified as the man fucking her picked up the pace and grabbed the ring at the end of her anal toy and proceeded to pull it out slowly. Her sphincter expanded and contracted as the beads popped out one by one, perfectly synchronized with the peaks of her own orgasm.

She lay there for a moment, face down between Ting’s silky thighs, unaware of anything but immeasurable pleasure and the hope that her now empty ass would soon be filled by something larger, preferably a cock. Instead, the short man grabbed her and turned her over on to her back as Ting wriggled up the bed. “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you,” the man said, squeezing a bottle of lube into his hand and applying it to his dick.

“Thank y—” Linsey began, but to her surprise, the man grabbed her breasts and pushed them together, then thrust his slippery – but unsheathed – cock between them. Linsey’s eyes widened in amazement. She’d heard of tit-fucking, had even seen it on porn movies, but had never tried it; Phil had always been more of a butt man, and her other male lovers had been too inexperienced to think of it or too shy to ask for it.

“Nice big fuckable funbags,” Shorty grunted. “Every fuckdoll should have beautiful boobs like these. Ohhhh, that feels
fantastic!”

Linsey blinked. To her, it felt only mildly pleasurable, but she found that she did enjoy seeing the purpling head of Shorty’s long dick appearing between her breasts, just within reach of her tongue, and she began licking it as it emerged.

Shorty obviously wasn’t a control freak: unlike the slow fucking she’d just received, the tit-fuck lasted less than a minute before she saw the come start spurting out of his cock – a sight she’d never previously witnessed, and found utterly fascinating. Without waiting for orders, she opened her mouth to catch as much of his semen as she could, then licked the rest off her face. “Thank you, master,” she said, surprising herself with the sincerity of her tone.

“My pleasure,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “You are
a fantastic
fuckdoll.”

“Thank you, master!” She looked around, and saw that Ting and the Indian woman were lying on the bed on either side of her, obviously enjoying the show.

“Impressive,” said the Indian woman. “How was her cunnilingus?”

“Pretty good,” said Ting, wiping a stray drop of come from Linsey’s face and licking it, “but I think she could benefit from more practice.”

“Hmm. Is she programmed for rimming, too, Professor?”

“If I remember the specifications correctly,” said the man in the lab coat.

“I am, mistress,” said Linsey, as the woman unwrapped her sari and lay prone on the bed.

“Then lick my ass.”

“Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress.” With an enthusiasm that she no longer even wondered at, she parted the woman’s beautiful brown buttocks and buried her face between them, her tongue running along the crevice until it found the hot little starburst between them. As she began rimming her, she felt another pair of hands – Ting’s, she rightly suspected – part her own cheeks, and a large dollop of lube being applied to her asshole. After some precautionary and thoroughly pleasurable probing with his slippery fingers, the professor slid his latex-sheathed circumcised cock easily into her butt; she felt her sphincter contract again and close around the shaft after the acorn-shaped glans had entered, and began coming. Her tongue slipped inside the Indian woman’s anus, and soon she was tongue-fucking her in synch with the cock reaming her ass.

They’re using me, she thought. I’m just a fuckdoll, a sex machine, I don’t even know their real names and they probably don’t know mine, but fuck, it feels so fucking
good
!

After that, the rest of the night, and the next day, and the next night, were something of an erotic blur. She did have a clear memory of jerking two of the men off so she could watch them come on her breasts, and then licking as much of their jizz as her tongue could reach before the other women finished the job of cleaning her up . . . and of Shorty returning for a second go at her tits, this time facing her feet while she licked his ass as avidly as she’d rimmed the Indian woman’s, or Ting’s, or Abigail’s . . . and of being blindfolded and ordered to guess whose cock was in her mouth, with the “threat” of a spanking if she guessed wrong, and of coming as the “threat” was carried out . . . and of being fucked and sodomized by all of the men, and by Ting with a strap-on, though she couldn’t remember in what order . . . but as she woke up Sunday morning, her body still glazed with come and other juices and covered with lipsticky kisses in four colours, the most important thing she remembered was how much pleasure her body, too long ignored, had given her and seven other people.

She lay there in what Abigail had called the “recovery room”, still slightly dazed, and wondered whether she should ask the chauffeur to stop at a church so she could go to confession on the way home – at a church where no one knew her, of course. She’d gotten less than halfway through listing her encounters of the weekend before reaching for one of the vibrators Abigail had thoughtfully left on the nightstand.

Linsey kept her expression neutral as she listened to the secretary of the PTA drone on reprovingly about the teacher who some parents thought was being too frank about sex in biology classes. The woman was only a few years her senior, and as Linsey looked at her prim, even severe, appearance, she realized that she was what she might have become without Brianna’s gift.

Maybe I’m judging her too harshly, she thought. Maybe she has a girlfriend as well as a husband. Maybe she has an impressive collection of piercings and tattoos under that Dior suit. Maybe her ass isn’t really so tight that it doesn’t regularly accommodate a nice hard cock, or so hard that it doesn’t jiggle a little when it gets spanked. Maybe she likes to go to sex shop movie booths in some other town and suck cocks through a glory hole. Maybe—

“. . . do the girls even need to learn biology at all?” the woman asked, bringing Linsey out of her reverie. “Unless they decide to go into medicine, what use will it be to them later in life?”

Linsey stared at her for a moment, and seemed to hear Brianna’s voice in her head.
You can choose when to be submissive,
it said,
and that means you’re choosing when not to be.

“The course stays on the curriculum,” said Linsey, firmly. “Biology is not some shameful little secret; there’s a reason they call it a life science. And I am
not
going to fire a teacher for doing her job, answering questions and encouraging curiosity. Yes, we will tell the girls that abstinence is safest – but if they ask about alternatives, any alternatives, I expect the teachers to answer the questions as honestly as they are able and let the girls make informed decisions about their own lives. How do you put it? ‘Teach the controversy?’”

The woman turned red, and stood. “I hope you’re ready to defend this position at the next meeting, when I suggest to the other parents that we pull our daughters out of this school.”

Linsey resisted the urge to make a joke about withdrawal not being a particularly effective alternative. “You’re free to do that,” she said, “but I’m not apologising for the position I’ve taken. Is there anything else you wish to say?”

Clearly there wasn’t, as the woman stood up and stormed towards the door. Linsey looked at her ass for a moment, fantasized about having it bent over her desk ready for a thorough spanking, then reached for her cell phone. “Brianna? It’s Lin. What’re you doing this weekend?”

Wish Girls

Matthew Addison

Max opened his bedroom door, and there they were, his wish girls, sitting primly on the bed with their legs crossed, looking up at him through lowered lashes. Allison (the blonde) and Stephanie (the brunette), wearing the modified cheerleader outfits that made him cringe with inward embarrassment now whenever he saw them. The wish girls were fresh and perky and eager as always. “Hi girls,” he said, tossing his coat on to the chair and dropping his bag. He’d had a hard day at the bookstore, and more than anything he wanted someone to listen to his troubles and make him dinner, but those were two things his wish girls wouldn’t do, couldn’t do, hadn’t been made to do, so he’d have to be satisfied with the services they did offer.