Bestiality and bear.
| ENTER - Bestiality and bear . |
'Steph, you are ready for sex, laying here, if we do it now and get it over with, then I can make love to Christine straight after and no one will be left out. I motioned Christine to sit on the bed, looked at Stephanie and started my way up her body, so that I was laying on top of her.
'Hold her hand' I said this to Christine, partly to keep her involved, but more so to let Stephanie know that this was going to happen, whether she felt ready or not. I reached down between Stephanie's open legs and ran a finger along the outside of her vagina, it was wet and hot, I then took the end of my cock and guided it to the outer lips, just touching them with the tip, Stephanie seemed to have resigned herself to this and lay still, looking at me, breathing slowly.
I pushed my cock into her an inch, and then another inch, allowing the resistance to fade a little before continuing each time, she was very wet but a combination of nerves and virginity was making it a very tight fit and not easy to move in and out. I felt a block that had to be her hymen and I stopped for a moment and pulled back slightly, she had tears in her eyes and I could see this was hurting her, I pushed in again with more force this time and went through her hymen with little trouble, although she did cry out for an instance, that scared both Christine and myself, but then all of the build up was over and I started to push deep into her vagina, deeper thrusts every time, then pulling her one of her legs up too her chest, giving me ever more room to push myself into her. I carried on like this for a couple of minutes, I could not say that she was enjoying it to much, her face was still flinching every so often and she said nothing, but I needed to get Christine here as well and time was running out.
It was almost six weeks since this girl had walked through my door, offering her completed slave contract to me with her tiny hand, eager to embark on what she must have thought would be an exciting sexual adventure.
I watched her now as she lay sleeping on the concrete floor of her cell in the cellar. One of two, it was more of a cage than a cell, measuring only six feet square, its two ends barred, ands its sides made of heavy stone.
The dim light in the gloomy cellar glinted gently against the bars, picking out the patch of white concrete in one corner of her prison, the place where her food was tipped at mealtimes, the area licked clean, presume ably in an attempt to please me.
She had begun to look unnaturally comfortable on the hard, cold stone floor. I had watched her for the first few days, twisting and turning against the unyielding surface, scraping her shoulders and hips mercilessly.
Gradually, the power of sleep had got the better of her discomfort, and exhausted by the liberal beatings she had received, she'd slept soundly, only occasionally waking to survey her surroundings with horrified disbelief, as if she was convinced that they must be part of particularly bad dream she was having.
Her eyes half open, she would gaze at the steel ring in the ceiling that had been the site of so much unbelievable agony, tears pricking her eyes, trying to rationalise her new reality. Shivering and white with cold she would fall back into her doze, her hips occasionally jerking forward, as she re-lived the horror of the whippings she had received in her dreams.