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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Archive name: crew.txt (MMF, voy, orgy, reluc)
Authors name: Marcia Hooper (marciar26@aol.com)
Story title : Crew, The
------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 2002. As the author, I claim all rights
under international copyright laws. This work is not
intended for sale, but please feel free to post this
story to other archives or newsgroups, keeping the
header and text intact. Any commercial use of this
work is expressly forbidden without the written
permission of the author.
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The Crew (MMF, voy, orgy, reluc)
by Marcia Hooper (marciar26@aol.com)
***
Lacey is so miserable alone in the Philippines. No
friends, a pig for a landlord, a boss who's worse and
a cottage that's barely livable. One Saturday morning
she is startled out of her self-pleasure by noises
outside. Has she been seen through the open window?
Did the landlord finally send the promised workers,
only to catch her off guard? Read this ten-page short
story to find out.
***
This is a work of fiction and is not meant to portray
any person living or dead, nor any known situation.
It is meant for adults only and is not to be read by
person's under the age of 18, or the legal age in the
county/state/country in which the reader resides.
If you would like a Microsoft Word or Wordperfect
version of this story (a much easier read), please
contact me at MarciaR26@aol.com
This story is adapted from the short story
"Persuasive Workmen" by Svensyn. It was posted in
Archive 16 of Kristen's Collection. Because the
author asked that his address be withheld, I was
unable to contact him in order to secure his
permission in using his story. I apologize for that.
I hope the author will understand.
The original story concerned a young man alone in the
Philippines. I was unaware at first that the story
was about a gay man (duh!), but it was so good, I
just had to finish reading. I loved it. The scenario
was just so crazy! I thought how crazy it would be
happening to me, LOL! Then I thought of my character
Lacey from the story "Hapless," and knew I had to
write a "girl" version for myself. This is it. I
apologize again to Svensyn for borrowing his work.
The Crew
by Marcia Hooper (MarciaR26@aol.com)
Adapted from "Persuasive Workmen" by Svensyn.
***
It was her first important assignment, her first time
overseas and her first encounter with a foreign
language. It was also her birthday.
Happy twenty-third birthday, Lacey thought.
Landing in Manila on September twenty-third, Lacey
considered Manila not such a bad city. The people
were nice, the streets were fairly clean, and she
enjoyed the food. She didn't get sick from the water.
But after a week, she was shipped off to Davao, to
the factory's location, and Davao was no Manila.
Davao was not even Tijuana. To Lacey, Davao was the
armpit of the Philippines.
Her first days in Davao were a girl's worst
nightmare. (Short of being raped and murdered.) The
cottage had no electricity and no running water; it
took two days to get the power turned on. Three days
more for water. Until then, Lacey holed up in a rat-
infested motel, desperate for escape. On hindsight,
she thought she might have preferred the rats.
The air conditioning consisted of three window units
spread throughout the house. The only one in service
was the one in the bedroom (thank God for that),
which was where she spent most of her time. The roof
leaked over the utility room out back, and there was
a continually expanding circle on the ceiling of the
second bedroom. She had neither cable TV nor
satellite service, and it was only on the ninth day
that her telephone worked. Then, at least, she could
log on.
Thank God, for AOL.
On the tenth day, Saturday the twelfth of October,
Lacey celebrated her birthday. Alone. She lighted a
single candle atop a Sarah Lee pound cake, and making
a wish, blew it out. She had no friends in Davao and
other than one girl at work (who brightened Lacey's
world immensely by inviting her out for a birthday
dinner), the rest considered Lacey an interloper. No
one locally spoke English and Lacey knew no Filipino
at all. The only bright spot in her life was knowing
that Kenneth was just as miserable.
Perhaps.
Saturday morning, Lacey slept in, enjoying the
relative comfort of her bedroom. She leisurely
masturbated, nude except for her panties, which
gradually migrated down her thighs to her ankles.
That's where they stayed, where Kenneth would like.
Just over five feet five inches tall, Lacey had coal
black hair and eyes, a razor thin nose and a wide,
but thinly-lipped mouth. Her breasts were comically
small, bearing pea-sized nipples and aureole barely
large as a dime. Her genitals were free of hair,
including that area surrounding her anus, into which
she had placed a finger.
"You need to get up," she murmured.
Right, Annie replied.
"We do."
Anne was Lacey's middle name, and her inner
companion. With her since childhood, Annie was her
best, and sometimes only friend.
"Don't make me hurt you," Lacey said.
Rolling onto her stomach, Lacey let the finger inside
her coax her hips off the bed. They continued to rise
until Lacey was in a halfway raised position--her
favorite. Then she inserted the middle finger of her
left hand into her vagina, and played finger-tag
through her flesh.
You are such a dog, Annie said. Give me a camera!
"Shut up," Lacey mumbled. Her eyes were shut and her
breathing forcibly slow; she was long practiced at
remaining aroused. Kenneth often filmed her that way.
"I wish I had my dildo," she moaned.
I wish you did too. The guy looking in the window
would just love that up your ass.
Lacey shook her head. "The window is closed."
Guess again, hon.
Lacey opened an eye. The blind was half-raised and
the curtains open. As usual, Annie was her
insufferably, correct self.
"No one can see in," she equivocated.
Yes they can, Annie said. You better listen.
The fingers came out of Lacey's behind and vagina.
She turned over and sat up. When Annie said to
listen, Lacey usually did. About some things, Annie
was invariably right.
"Did you see something?" she asked.
Annie said: Not saw--heard.
"What did you hear?"
A ladder?
"A ladder?" Lacey repeated. "Where?"
Out back.
Lacey got up and threw on her robe. She went into the
kitchen. Suddenly, her breathing was very labored.
"Oh, please," she said. "Please don't tell me."
The day before, her landlord had promised to send out
a crew. Taking half a day off, Lacey set all
afternoon and fumed. Only at four-fourty five did she
call. Of course, the bastard was apologetic.
"I am sorry Ms. Kincaide," he had said.
Lacey cut the man him off. "One o'clock, you said! No
later than two, you said! I waited here all
afternoon! I missed important work! My supervisor
will kill me! He already yelled at me this morning!"
In truth, Mr. Herrera had called her a ninny. A
stupid ninny. He berated her in a manner, which no
American boss ever had. Since first meeting him ten
days before, Lacey had fought his constant advances,
growing more alarmed--and repulsed--by the day.
Herrera was an octopus with hands. With everything
she did, he found fault. He had threatened to can
her. With this latest fiasco, she understood that
nothing stood between her and his office couch if she
hoped to keep her job. Come Monday morning, baring a
miracle, her mouth would envelop his penis.
"Ms. Kincaide," the landlord said. "I am sorry for
your anguish. I will try to get a crew out first
thing in the morning. I promise."
Lacey had laughed in his face. "I don't believe you!"
she cried, a total deviation from Lacey behavior.
"You better have them here Monday morning, you ass,
seven o'clock at the latest, or I'll sue your ass!"
Then she had slammed down the phone.
"I don't see anything," she said now, looking out the
window. Nothing was visible save the slatted wooden
fence bordering the neighbor's yard.
Out back, Lace. Not the fucking side yard.
"Okay, okay. No need to get testy."
Opening the door to the utility room, Lacey went
inside. Windows either side of the small room showed
no one in sight. "Satisfied?" she asked.
I know I heard something, Annie said. I didn't make
it up.
"I didn't say you did. You were just mistaken." She
shut the door and locked it. "Can I go shower now?"
You may take a bath.
Lacey felt a thrill. "A bubble bath?" she asked.
I should punish you with cold water.
Lacey stuck out her lip. "You wouldn't do that."
Annie said nothing.
At home, one of Kenneth's favorite diversions was
listening to Lacey talk. She routinely carried on a
conversation, sometimes for minutes, sometimes for
hours on end. She talked about her day at work, her
favorite TV shows, even Kenneth's latest demands. The
most amusing thing was not that she seemed unaware
that she did it, but how she kowtowed to herself--or
to Annie, whichever was worse. Of the pair, Kenneth
often wished he were fucking Annie.
Postponing her bath, Lacey cleaned. She scrubbed the
in-need-of replacement kitchen floor, straightened
the living room, changed her bedclothes, rearranged
the shelves out back, and scrubbed the back porch.
All save for the back porch she performed in the
nude. For the porch, she donned a bikini top and
shorts. Then she took her bath.
"What do you think of Andre?" she asked, playing with
her ruby-colored nipples. She teased them into full
attention.
Annie sighed. Okay, I guess.
Andre was the plant foreman, and the cutest man
there. He had eyes for Lacey Kincaide.
"Okay?" she said. "Just okay? I think he's
delicious."
He's also married.
"So?"
So, he's married. Not that it's ever mattered before.
"Hey!" Lacey objected. "That's nice!"
You want nice? Buy a puppy.
Teasing up soap bubbles around her nipples, Lacey
played hide and seek. They slowly appeared through
the foam.
"You know how horny I am?" she asked.
I think this morning made it pretty clear.
Lacey thought of herself on the bed, playing finger
tag through her flesh. Then she thought of Andre
Mercurio, observing her through the half-open window.
She slid way down in the water. She blew bubbles with
her mouth.
"Nineteen days," she said.
I know how long.
"I haven't been nineteen days without sex, since I
was twelve."
You are disgusting, Annie said.
Lacey stuck out her lip.
Right. Your answer to everything.
Lacey slapped the water. "I can't help it!" she
cried. "I'm horny! I need a dick!"
You need a good spanking!
"That too!" she cried. "But I need a dick first!"
Truculently, Lacey crossed her arms over her chest
and pouted. "I want my Daddy."
*
Towel drying her hair, Lacey went into the kitchen.
She wanted a coke. She was very much aroused. Her
nipples ached. She throbbed deep within her organs.
Counting backwards on her fingers, Lacey understood
why. She was ovulating.
Well gee, girlie-girl. Big surprise there.
Lacey was about to shoot back a reply when she
spotted two men through the kitchen window. She
nearly freaked.
Ducking down beside the counter, Lacey hurriedly
covered herself up. "Holy God!" she said. "What are
they doing out there?"
The men were in the side yard, inspecting what Lacey
guessed was the living room air conditioner. They had
either had not seen her, or they didn't let on.
Peeking out the glass, Lacey wrapped herself in the
towel and headed back to the bedroom.
The front doorbell rang.
"Shit!" Lacey said, afraid to move. Either side of
the door was a row of small-paned windows. Through
them she saw someone stoop and peer in, then put his
hand to the glass to shade his eyes. The doorbell
continued to ring.
"Shit!" She repeated.
With nothing on but her towel, Lacey was not opening
the door. But, there was that damned face at the
window, and now he was waving at her, making Lacey's
embarrassment even worse. Then someone pounded on the
door. Lacey made a fateful decision. Chagrined, she
clasped the towel tightly around her, and went to the
door.
"Si?" she demanded.
There were eight of them in all, mostly wearing t-
shirts and jeans. One man, a darkly tanned Filipino
in his late thirties, had on a badly knotted tie. He
stepped forward from the group. He touched his
forehead.
"Por favor," he said. Then he switched to accented,
but perfectly understandable English. "We are the
work crew, sent to fix your air conditioners and
roof."
"At four o'clock in the afternoon?" Lacey asked. It
was closer to four-thirty.
The man shrugged. "Si. We only finished our last job
an hour ago--" he conferred rapidly with a man to his
left "--but the work took longer than we expected.
The owner, Senor Martinez, insisted that we come. I
always honor Mr. Martinez's wishes."
Lacey nodded. Her own run-ins with the landlord were
anything but sweet. Still, she hesitated.
"We can come back tomorrow," the man said. "But we
might not be able to get parts. If anything should
need repair."
Lacey was stuck. Getting the job completed today--
even at this late hour--meant not missing work Monday
morning. "Okay," she said. "Come in."
Introducing himself as Enrique, the man then
identified Miguel, his crew chief and Manuel, the
roofer. The six other names Lacey immediately forgot.
Miguel, who looked about Lacey's age and was wirily
built (all the men were wirily built) and had a tool
belt slung over his shoulder. He would see to the air
conditioners, along with one other, while Manuel
tended to the roof. Lacey said fine and headed for
the bedroom.
At this point, things could have--should have--gone
well. But Lacey's clothes, laid out on the bed before
her shower, were badly wrinkled. As she set up the
ironing board and unwrapped the iron's cord, the
power went off.
Disgusted, she went out to the front porch. Leaning
over the railing, she called: "What's going on?"
Miguel, removing the air conditioner's cover, shook
his head.
"You speak English?" she called.
Miguel shook his head.
"Where's Enrique?"
Miguel indicated Enrique had left.
"Great," Lacey sighed. "Who speaks English then?"
They all shook their heads. Lacey's stomach began to
burn.
As best she could, Lacey determined that the power
would be out for an hour. Why they had pulled the
plug entirely, she couldn't discern. It was not
something conveyable with sign language. She closed
the door and retreated into her bedroom.
First trying to smooth out the wrinkles by hand,
Lacey tried stretch-ironing her clothes. That didn't
work. Then she considered grabbing her discarded
clothes from earlier that day, but they were sweaty
and covered with dirt. Disgusted, she pulled a t-
shirt and a pair of shorts out of her drawers. She
prepared to put them on. Just as she removed the
towel, however, there was a commotion from the living
room, and Lacey wrapped the towel back on.
From her bedroom door, she saw that Miguel had pushed
the air conditioner into the room. Much larger than
Lacey had imagined, it canted forward from the
casement, ready to fall. There were shouts from
outside and suddenly one of the crewmen burst through
the front door. He rushed over to the dangling unit
and, struggling mightily, hauled it to a horizontal
position. Veins stood out on his face; his muscles
bulged. Looking around, he found Lacey standing in
the hallway, and motioned her forward.
"Me?" Lacey asked, a finger touching her chest. You
must be kidding!
The man nodded.
"No way!" she said, shaking her head and hands.
But the unit dipped lower as the seconds went by and
the man began to look desperate. Lacey, torn between
her modesty and fear of loosing the unit, came
forward. "Mother fuck," she whispered.
Taking up position on the other side of the unit,
Lacey grabbed the frame. The machine was incredibly
heavy. No wonder he looked ready to burst, she
thought. Together they brought the unit back level
and slid it into the casement. Halfway in, the unit
stuck.
While Lacey held most of the load, the workman--
Morito was his name--kept one hand on the chassis and
the other trying to fix the slide. Lacey grunted when
he released the unit entirely.
"Can't someone else do this?" she complained. The
weight made her bend at the knees.
Morito, carrying on a shouted conversation with
Miguel, outside, ignored her words. Then, to Lacey's
horror, the towel began to loosen. She jammed her
breasts against the compressor and her hip against
the chassis.
"Hurry up!" she demanded.
Morito, reacting to her heated words, looked up. He
blinked in confusion, then grabbed the machine. Then
he released it again to grab a wrench and a pry bar
passed in by Miguel. The unit sagged lower, forcing
Lacey down too. Her towel loosened almost to the
point of letting go.
This is not happening! she frantically thought. She
looked down and saw her left nipple. Oh, Jesus! Oh,
Jesus, no!
"Morito!" she yelled.
Morito looked up and blinked in confusion, then
laughed. Lacey lost her temper.
"I'm dropping this thing!" she yelled. "Right on your
foot!" She started to count, got only to two, and
then her towel worked free loose. With a swiftness
that made her heart flip, the towel fell away and
puddled at her feet. She looked at Morito, who looked
at her, and then she let out a shriek.
This is not happening! This is not happening at all!
But it was!
With a surge of panic, Lacey dropped the machine and
grabbed for her towel. Left unsupported, the unit
began a backwards slide and reaching the halfway
point, overbalanced and fell. Lacey shrieked as the
machine swung hard against her shoulder, knocking her
flat on her can. Then she shrieked again as she
yanked her feet clear the machine crashed to the
floor in a shower of dust and debris, burying Lacey's
towel. She sat there, naked and spread wide, while
Morito stared dumbfounded at her crotch.
Lacey thought: This is it. This is the nightmare I
had in junior high. This is getting caught outside
the girl's locker room with no clothes on and having
everyone laugh. Then she thought: No, this is having
Jimmy Maclane and Bobby Rideour and Andy McCall
taking pictures of me through my bedroom window and
sending those pictures to all their friends and to my
friends as well, and then finding them in my own e-
mail.
Miguel and two others stared wide-eyed at her through
the open casement, and then Manuel rushed in through
the back door, a helper right on his heels. She had
just begun to cover herself when the seventh and
final worker burst in through the front. Everyone
stopped dead. Everyone except Lacey, who screamed at
the top of her lungs as she covered herself up and
ran frantically to the bedroom.
*
What happened up to that point was unfortunate, but
forgivable. What happened later was not.
The workers, amused by Lacey's plight, joked the rest
of the afternoon. Manuel took his men back on the
roof, and before sunset arrived, had found and
patched all the leaks. Miguel discovered the air
conditioner to be undamaged and, after repairing the
slides, remounted it in the wall. Aside from needing
a charge of Freon, it worked just fine. At seven
o'clock, when the work crew finally left, the living
room was practically frigid.
As you might expect, Lacey was devastated by the
event. For a time, she hid behind her bedroom door,
tucked into a shivering ball. She fought hysteria and
hyperventilation. Finally, she did what all women do
to maintain their equilibrium in a sex-crazed world:
She adjusted. She coped. She contended.
Getting to her feet, Lacey put all thoughts of what
happened out of her mind. She hummed to herself,
softly. She lowered the blinds. She plugged in the
iron and spent half an hour ironing her clothes.
Then, still totally naked, she stood by her bed and
examined her white cotton slacks and peach colored
top. Then she began to laugh.
Oh, my God, she thought. Did that actually happen?
In commiseration, Annie said: I'm sorry. I'm afraid
it did.
"I am so embarrassed."
You have a right to be, Annie said. Even I wish I
weren't there.
Putting her hand over her mouth, Lacey said: "Did you
see their faces? My, God, Annie! I showed them it
all."
Annie couldn't stop laughing.
Lacey repeated, "I am so embarrassed."
Facing her chagrin, Lacey dressed and left the
bedroom. She stood at the end of the hallway, red
faced and insecure, watching Miguel and Morito.
As soon as they saw her, everyone laughed.
"I am so sorry," she said. Her face, were she to
touch it, would surely burn her fingers. She
apologized again, and so did the workers.
At six o'clock, she fixed them all cokes and
something to eat. Morito, famished, gulped the
sandwich down in four bites and Lacey just had to
laugh. They laughed along with her.
Over the next hour, Lacey and Miguel grew to know
each other fairly well--as well as pantomime and hand
signs would allow. Miguel showed her the inner
workings of the machine that had nearly killed her,
and Lacey explained--or tried to explain--what was
wrong with the washer and dryer. The kitchen faucet
she forgot.
By seven o'clock as the men prepared to leave, Lacey
felt a growing chagrin. She could not deny her
growing attraction to Miguel, and she felt it from
him. She also felt, had either one spoken the other
one's language, Miguel would have asked her out.
*
Three blocks from Lacey's cottage was an eatery
called Reynoldo's. There, she and Maribel ate. Lacey
had smoked Mullet and seasoned vegetables, while
Maribel ate a local dish Lacey could not pronounce
and would never eat. At nine o'clock, after walking
Lacey home, Maribel disappeared into the night.
At nine-thirty the doorbell rang. It was Miguel,
Manuel, and three of the others.
They all carried cameras.
It took a while, but Lacey eventually grasped it was
she they wanted to photograph. Flabbergasted, she
poked her own chest.
"Me?" she said.
Miguel nodded.
"But why?"
To her mortification, they made Lacey understand.
"In the nude?"
They all nodded yes. They understood what nude meant.
Aghast, Lacey shook her head, no.
The men argued among themselves, then Miguel made
digits with his hand. "Two hundred dollar," he said.
Lacey laughed. "You've got to be crazy!"
The men argued some more. Finally, Miguel took out
his wallet and extracted a trio of one hundred dollar
bills. He raised his eyebrows.
"No," Lacey said.
But between her thighs, something had stirred. She
shifted uncomfortably.
"Listen," she said, motioning to the door. "You guys
better go."
Miguel pulled another from his wallet and Lacey,
exasperated and surprisingly hurt, wanted to scream,
"No!" But, she also wanted to say yes. If for no
other reason than her frustration and disappointment.
So much for him liking me, Annie, she thought. He's
no better than the others.
Fuck this joker, hon, Annie replied.
Fuck him is right! Fuck him and Kenneth and Martinez
and especially that son-of-a-bitch Herrera!
Instead, Lacey shook her head.
Frustrated, Miguel took her hand and placed in it the
four one hundred dollar bills. He added a fifth one
hundred dollar bill. Five hundred dollars to pose.
"No!" Lacey exploded, pointing at the door. "Now get
out!"
Then Miguel said, "One thousand dollar," and Lacey
stopped dead.
A thousand dollars? To pose in the nude?
Annie said: Go for it, girl!
And Lacey did.
*
At the small bar, Lacey brought out her full array of
bottles. A fifth of Jack Daniels, a bottle of wine,
and a fifth of Philippine whisky. She took out six
glasses.
"Help yourselves," she said.
Miguel and one of his helpers, Roberto, fixed their
drinks straight up. Antonio and Juan, who belonged to
Manuel, made theirs with water. Manuel asked for a
beer; Lacey pointed him toward the kitchen. Then she
poured a shot of Jack Daniels for herself, and drank
it neat.
"Miguel?"
Miguel looked up from his camera.
Moving her hands one over the other in a negative
gesture, Lacey said: "No sex. Understand?"
Miguel grinned, but nodded his head. He repeated
Lacey's words: "No sex."
"None," Lacey said. "Nada, Nine, Kaput."
Miguel nodded again.
"Okay," she said. "What do I do?"
Indicating Lacey should remove her shirt, Miguel
raised his camera. As she undid the buttons, and drew
her shirt aside, Miguel, Antonio and Roberto fired
away.
What, Lacey wondered, am I doing?
In just her brassiere, Lacey moved this way and that,
posing with determination, if not much grace. She
felt so utterly weird. Miguel, seemingly an expert
with the camera, directed her actions. Soon, Lacey
had warmed to the job and began to lithely pose.
"I need to shut the blinds," she said. Arms currently
over her head, and her belt unbuckled, Lacey felt
eyes staring in.
Miguel shook his head.
Pointing to the window above the air conditioner,
Lacey made closing motions. Miguel shook his head,
no. She put her hands on her hips. Did he not
understand? Or did he not care? Or did he want them
to see?
Pursing her lips, she said. "Fine. Whatever you
want," and unzipped her pants.
From all directions, shutters snapped and flashbulbs
burst; Lacey continued to pose. When her pants were
off and she wore only her panties and bra, Lacey
whispered, "He's going to make me to take them off. I
don't want to take them off." She knew exactly how a
centerfold felt.
Instructed by Miguel to sit down, Lacey sat in the
middle of the floor. He had her recline and stretch
out her legs. For the next five minutes, Lacey did
everything but expose herself.
But she knew that was coming
"This," she muttered, "is utterly gay."
Focusing his lens on her crotch, Miguel had Lacey
lean far back. She drew up her knees and spread her
legs wide. Then he made her spread them some more. He
motioned her to draw aside her panties.
"I won't do that," Lacey said to them, softly. Then
she did.
Oh, my God, Annie. What have I done?
Annie remained silent. Lacey could sense her fear.
Coming in for a close-up, Miguel photographed Lacey's
crotch. Then he shot her from different angles,
always with hands in the shot. She did whatever
Miguel said. She put in a finger, then a second. She
alternately wanted to cry, and to laugh out loud.
I am such an ass!
Calm down, Lace! Annie warned. She sensed Lacey's
panic. It's not as bad as you think.
How bad does it need to be, Annie!
Going to one knee, Miguel placed his hand on Lacey's
right hip. Knowing what he intended, Lacey lifted her
butt. Miguel took off her panties. She began to
shake.
Okay, smart ass! What do I do now?
Just try to hold on, okay? It'll be all right.
All right? Annie! I'm gonna fuck five guys!
Do only what you want to, Annie said.
I don't want to do anything! Lacey wailed. Then
Miguel removed her brassiere.
Shooting her from every angle and direction, the men
encircled Lacey. They had her on her back, on her
sides and on her stomach. They concentrated on her
small breasts, making Lacey jut them forward. She
teased her nipples erect. She wet them. And all the
while, Lacey's arousal and fear factor grew, hand in
hand.
Annie?
Yes, Lace?
I'm going to fuck them.
Is that what you want?
That's what my insides tell me.
Then do it, Lace.
Flat on her stomach, head on her right arm, Lacey
waited. When Miguel indicated for her to raise her
rear end, Lacey complied. The room became very still.
Moving directly behind her, Miguel shot from low
level, moving slowly away. Lacey rose higher in
increments, chest flat to the floor, her hands by her
sides for support. She felt like a Hustler
centerfold.
"I want to stop," she whispered. She continued to
rise.
Eventually, Lacey could rise no more. Her tail, now
fully splayed, lay bare her anus. Cool air kissed its
surface. Antonio and Juan captured her from behind
and she could here their ragged breathing. Miguel's
cock showed clearly through his pants. He was
powerfully erect.
"You are in trouble," Lacey whispered. "So much
trouble." She closed her eyes. When she opened them
again, Roberto was stripped to his thong. He was
huge. The outline of his cock ran ten inches in
length, maybe longer, maybe as long as a foot. The
head was a form all it's own.
"Wait!" Lacey exclaimed, beginning to panic. She
tried to rise. Manuel restrained her. He sat beside
her on the floor and put an arm around her shoulders;
he elicited a smile. "Is okay," he said, in broken
English. He also, was stripped to his thong.
After a dozen shots, Miguel had Manuel remove his
thong. Manuel was big--not the size of Roberto--but
big enough. Eight inches long and cocked sideways and
down, his thick penis ended in a small head. Veins,
like jagged streaks of lightning, ribbed the shaft;
the color was a bruised purple.
"Wait," Lacey said, again.
The remaining four stripped off their clothes. Each
wore a thong. When Roberto removed his, Lacey nearly
died.
"Wait a minute!" she choked. Her heart trip-hammered
and her stomach clenched.
A foot long and three inches wide, Roberto's cock was
nearly beyond description. The head was the size of a
large plum, and the same color. It looked like a
dinosaur's head. The shaft was monstrously veined and
bulged hugely in the middle. It looked deformed. What
orifice could possibly take that? she thought,
wildly.
"I can't do this! I have to go home!" she wheezed,
backing away. To her horror, Manuel took himself in
hand and began to stroke. Breath lodged in her
throat. She began to shake. Then Manuel laughed and
the laughter spread to the other three. They
continued to shoot.
"Please," Lacey begged. "Let me go." She looked from
one man to the other, shaking.
Roberto, his testicles swinging obscenely side to
side, motioned to Juan, who took up position behind
her. Antonio moved behind her as well, and then
Manuel. They struck a pose; four waving erections and
glittering smiles.
"Let me go," she pleaded. "Please."
Then they pretended to fuck her.
Antonio, holding his penis right at her mouth--its
aroma made Lacey lightheaded--made vulgar noises in
his throat and snickered like a horse. He was the
smallest of the group, a mere seven inches. Juan,
nine inches long and proportionally thick, pretended
to stick himself into her rear. Everyone laughed.
Then Antonio touched her lips.
Unsure if it were intentional or not--Antonio jerked
nearly as badly as she--Lacey yelped. The men
exploded in sudden agitation and everyone yelled.
Lacey understood nothing. Miguel, flushed and angry,
berated Antonio, gesticulating with his camera.
Sensing things would totally unravel, Lacey put up
her hand. The men grew silent.
"Look," she said, slowly. "I'm petrified, but it's
what I want to do." She raised her eyebrows,
questioningly. "Do you understand?"
Miguel blinked, then nodded slowly.
"I have to do it on my own, though," she said. "Or
not at all."
Miguel nodded again.
Going back to all fours, Lacey leaned forward and
took Antonio into her mouth. He exclaimed loudly. His
penis contacted and swelled. Lacey trembled in shock.
Unsure what else to do, Miguel took pictures. The
rest did as well. Lights snapped from every
direction.
Telling Antonio to sit, Lacey dropped to her elbows
and took his cock in her hand. Antonio reclined to
get a better view. Lacey masturbated him and began to
suck. She used her lips and her tongue first, then
began to lower and raise. She coordinated her
movements with her hand. Antonio's testicles rose up
and down as she stroked, and Lacey caressed them with
her fingertips. She kissed each one and drew it into
her mouth. She sucked them gently. Antonio rubbed her
head.
I like this, Annie said.
I like it too.
Will you swallow his come?
Do you want me to?
Annie didn't answer.
Lacey thought of the millions of tiny sperm, awaiting
her decision.
Moving behind her, Manuel put a hand on Lacey's back,
the other on her rear end. He asked permission, and
Lacey moved beneath his hands, consentingly. He
placed the head of his cock in her crack, stopped on
her anus. Lacey moaned. She closed her eyes and
sucked Antonio's cock.
I'm afraid, Annie.
I'm afraid too.
I've never had one this big, she thought. Not there.
Not in my ass. She jerked in sudden pain.
Ouch! they cried, in unison.
Miguel sent Roberto to the kitchen for some
lubrication, and he returned with a bottle of oil.
Juan took the bottle and lubed the head of his cock,
then the puckered circle of Lacey's anus. He worked
himself in. It still hurt, but not so bad that Lacey
could not bear it. She began to rock back and forth.
Manuel took her more deeply.
My God! she thought. This is incredible.
Annie replied: Don't go going hog wild, okay? This
guy is small. Juan and Roberto are monsters. Miguel
might be too.
Will they all want my ass?
Annie laughed. Do men want anything else, nowadays?
Concentrating her will, Lacey ignored the discomfort
in her rear and concentrated on her mouth. She worked
Antonio slowly into her throat, forcing flat her
tongue and opening her jaw wide. The head blocked her
throat, then went inside. She gagged
"Easy girl," Annie cautioned.
Lacey relaxed her throat. Her gag reflex eased.
Better, Annie said. Can you take him all?
Lacey took him all.
At her other end, Juan pushed deeper inside. He felt
mostly in. Slowly, holding her behind, he moved
himself around in Lacey's ass, and she began to
relax. Pain gave way to discomfort and discomfort to
pleasure. Manuel began to ride her.
They would sell these pictures to a web site, she
knew, and every eye that wanted to see, anywhere in
the world, would witness her sodomization. She should
ask for more money, she thought. Or a portion of the
take. Set up her own web site, maybe. Wouldn't that
be brave?
Things became frenzied and soon reached a crescendo.
Lacey let go of Antonio's cock and placed both hands
on the floor. Manuel rammed her behind. She made
atrocious noises. She began to come.
Oh God! Oh God, Annie! Jesus God!
Manuel began to come and tried climbing atop her. Her
rectum screamed. He came again, harder, and Lacey
felt his gushing sperm. It was very hot.
Oh God Annie! I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh Jesus Christ
I'm coming!
Then Antonio was coming also, and jammed himself into
Lacey's mouth. Come shot onto her tongue. She
swallowed convulsively, fighting a gag, while Manuel
came in her ass.
Oh my God! Oh my God! This is not happening! This is
not fucking happening!
Annie could not reply. Her mouth and rear end were
otherwise engaged.
*
Lacey never asked for the pictures, nor any more
money. No one important would see. No one important
to her, anyway. It was enough knowing that those with
interest could observe her with Manuel, Antonio, Juan
and Roberto.
As for Miguel, he was doting and kind and truly
immense. Lacey sat in his lap for a long time that
night, willing him in. She wrapped her arms around
his neck, and sometimes cried. Miguel kissed away her
tears. Language was not a barrier, only her pain.
Afterwards, they lay together in Lacey's bed, spooned
together, his cock buried deep within her ass. It
stayed there all night. In the morning, Miguel
removed himself gracefully from her bed and left.
Except for occasional trips to the bathroom, Lacey
remained where she was all day.
In another four months, Lacey returned to the United
States and rejoined her estranged boyfriend, who soon
thereafter gave Lacey good reason to wish she were
still in the Philippines.
The End
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 20