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My nineteen year old cousin DJ had been coming to spend two weeks with me during the summer ever since…

My wife was out of town for the week, which left me without much to do besides watching TV or catching the basketball games on the radio. So when rush hour hit, I headed to a nearby bar and sat at the rail to check out the traffic, ordering a gin and tonic to pass the time. It was an upscale crowd – yuppies, business men like myself, you know the type. As I swiveled my barstool around, getting a quick 360 of the clientele, I realized there was a woman sitting next to me. A good- looking brunette in a well-tailored business suit. And unless I was very much mistaken, she had been giving me the eye. I turned around, and she was there all right, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite fathom. “Rough day?,” she asked, and I relaxed and moved into the “office work” routine with half my mind while the other half tried to figure what she was looking for. She was friendly enough, and I tuned back into our discussion just in time to hear myself recommend a little Chinese place for dinner. We ate at Yank Soo’s in one of the booths overlooking the river. Separate checks, of course., She told me about life in the field of accounting and how hard it was for a woman to get ahead in a male- dominated area. We talked about college and career, and found a mutual interest in old jazz. Turns out she had some early Blue Note disks I had been looking for years, so I asked about taping them for my collection and she invited me to come over and give them a listen first. Her “little place” was a Victorian brownstone in one of the more expensive neighborhoods. I pulled into the second bay of the two-car garage since it looked like rain. She showed me into the music room as she went to fix something to drink. I was impressed – her jazz collection was something incredible, from rare Bird to just about every Monk album ever released. I found the records we had discussed and put one on the turntable, then sat on the couch and listened. Cool, sweet, jazz – I closed my eyes and drank in the sound. At some point in the first track she put a drink in my hand, and I sipped as I listened. The first track ended, and I opened my eyes to see her beside me on the couch. Somehow, taking her in my arms was the easiest thing to do, and when the second track began we just naturally rose to start dancing. Her hands drifted down to the base of my spine, and I became aware of the points of her breasts through the silk blouse she wore. We turned so she was dancing with her back to me, moving her hips back into mine. I cupped her breasts, and heard her sigh as she leaned into me. She turned around, and as our dance went on she unbuttoned my shirt, then removed it and my jacket. Next to go was her jacket and blouse, and we danced through the next solo with her hands inside the back of my pants.sex photos“Come upstairs,” she breathed, running one hand between my legs, and I didn’t have the will to resist her. She unfastened my pants there in the music room, leaving me in shorts alone, took off her bra, and kissed me long and deep, my hands roaming over her back and down farther. She led me up the stairs, one hand in my shorts, and opened the door to her bedroom. There was a large bed there, a music system equal to the one downstairs, and a low metal Sixties-style bench with a fur seat by a curtained wall. She asked me to sit on the bench, and as the music from downstairs continued, used her own fingers to bring her nipples into proud erection. “Kiss me,” she said, offering a ripe tit, and I cooperated, drawing it into my mouth with lips and tongue. “Harder,” she moaned, and I used my teeth and tongue, feeling it become stiff and swollen. She pulled away, then offered the other breast for the same treatment. Then she pulled away this time, her face – indeed her whole upper body – was flushed. She beckoned with one finger, and I came to her to slip her skirt off, revealing a black pair of crotchless panties. I slipped a finger between her thighs, finding that she was already warm and wet. She asked me to turn around, so I did so, facing the bench and wall as she dragged my shorts down, my penis spring free to smack audibly against my belly. I felt her hands move down my legs, and then a clicking sound. I looked down to realize that she had just fastened a set of fur-lined cuffs around my ankles and snapped them to the bottom legs of the bench. She pushed me forward, and as I fell she grabbed one arm, then the other, fastening them similarly to the other end. I began to appreciate the design of the bench in a different light now. The seat of the bench ran from just below my neck to just above my waist, then the bench legs went out at an angle, leaving me open to the air from the belly button to mid-thigh. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I could still smell her private aroma, and that maintained my flagging erection. She slid a footstool beneath my chin, lifting my head so I could see the slit in her panties and smell the juices that were already gathered there. As she slid forward, I stretched my tongue out to meet her, finding her hot and wet inside. She gripped my head as I kissed and licked, and ran trails with her nails around my ears, the back of my neck, my armpits, each nail leaving a trace I could feel as clearly as reading a map. I felt something toying with the head of my penis — she had stretched her legs and gripped me with her toes. Now she pulled slightly away from my face, and I had to stretch my head and tongue to reach her, as she braced her hands on my shoulders and began working me with her feet. I could not hold off, but as I began to shoot I felt her begin her own spasms around my tongue. She bent her knee, bringing one foot onto the stool, her toes between my face and her pussy. “Suck,” she commanded, and despite some misgivings I did, mingling the acrid taste of my own fluid with the heavy smell of her juices. She buried my face inside her pussy again, and I licked and nibbled until she was satisfied. She arose, moving to my nether end, and I heard a buzzing sound, then felt a vibrator moving over my thighs, between my legs, between my cheeks. She parted my cheeks and I felt her finger work its way into the opening there, moving in and out until I relaxed. Then her finger was replaced by something thicker that went in until my muscles clamped around a narrow portion. She ran the vibrator over the end of the plug, and the sensation was so intense, that to my surprise I found myself becoming erect again. She unhooked the cuffs from the bench, and helped me to stand erect, taking me in a full body kiss, tongues fighting for space, then sliding slowly down my body to taste and tease my nipples as I cupped and squeezed her full breasts. Each move I made caused the plug to wiggle, making my erection bob and jerk against her. “Poor baby, we’ve been neglecting you,” she said, and sank to her knees to engulf me in the moist cavern of her mouth. I closed my eyes and stroked her fine hair as her tongue and lips worked their magic on me, all the while her fingers were pinching, caressing and stroking my thighs, cheeks, genitals. My breath was coming ragged as she held me on the edge of erupting.pornShe pulled away, holding me in her hand as she led me to a curtained wall, then drew the curtain aside to reveal a large metal frame with D-rings at the corners. She backed me up and attached my feet to the corners, spreading my legs to do so, then kissed and licked her way up my body, finally lifting my arms and hooking their cuffs to the top corners of the frame. By now she was riding on top of me, rubbing her labia around my aching member, her breasts hot against my chest. She moved her head down to kiss and worry my nipple, then made me gasp as she clipped something to it. She repeated the treatment on my other nipple, then slid down and wrapped her breasts around my erection, bring it up harder (if possible). Now she attached some sort of clamp to the skin just below the head, with a weight attached to the clamp. The weight magnified every movement I make. As she stepped away from the frame, my attention wavered between the growing pain at my nipples, the constant reminder of the anal plug, and the self-jerking action of my cock. Her face was radiant as she watched me quiver. She asked me, “What would you like first?,” but I could not give her an answer. Remove the clips? Take me into her mouth? Unhook my arms? She chuckled at my indecision, then went to the side of the frame, unhooked a bar, and swung the frame out, now perpendicular to the wall. “You’ll like this, I think” she said, scraping her nails up my ass cheeks, wiggling the plug to draw a low moan from me. She took the weight and fastened it to the anal plug, so every motion I made was now reflected. I heard her step away, then I could not hear her at all. My nipples felt on fire, and all the squirming I could manage in that frame would not budge them. But all that movement did shake the weight and move the plug, making my aching erection harder. Where did she go? I began to worry how long she was going to leave me and finally yelled “Hello? Where are you?” I got my answer as my ass exploded in pain. Whack! Whack! She had re-entered the room quietly and now was strapping my ass. I cried out from the shock, her only response more laughter. Every jolt of the strap seemed to run from the base of my ass cheeks to the head of my erection. When she finally stopped the spanking, I thanked her in relief, asking what she wanted from me. “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?,” she answered, “Oh, silly me, you have all these tight muscles that need to be loosened.” She began stroking my ass, her palms cool relief against my abused flesh. She started moving the anal plug in and out, fucking my ass with it while the attached weight pulled my cock up and down in return. The sensations finally overwhelmed me, and without her ever touching my cock directly I came, long and hard, in spasm after spasm, her fingers continuing to move until I was slumped boneless in the frame. I barely whimpered at the pain when she removed the clips, then released me from the frame. Eventually I gathered the strength to get dressed – she had done so already and had coffee brewing down in the kitchen. We shared a cup together in silence. As I got up to leave, she said “We really must get together again.” The thought was tempting, but thinking of my wife, I declined. “No, I really think we must” she said more firmly, and handed me a photograph. I hadn’t noticed a camera at the time, but the photograph was clearly recognizable as me, naked in the frame, nipples clipped, face locked in a rictus of pleasure, strands of semen flying in the air. “I have your number,” she said as I left. I think she does.

Another year, another Wimbledon, another semi-final … another match point. Tina had heard it said that history repeats itself, but this was surely pushing it. How could she have been so stupid…? She knew exactly how, of course. Ever since that fateful day this time last year, women’s tennis had changed beyond recognition. The photos in the next day’s papers had won her immediate condemnation from a bunch of people she did not care about, while also earning immediate super-celebrity status as one of the world’s leading sex symbols. The fact that she had ended up losing the match made no difference at all. The job offers came rolling in, though she politely declined all requests that she pose nude for men’s magazines, and her bank balance grew and grew…This fact was not lost on her fellow tennis starlets. At last year’s US Open, a succession of tiny microskirts made their way out on to the courts, and soon Tina found herself facing stiff competition. One girl, in particular, seemed to have hardly any inhibitions at all – her name was Laura Lessing and she had won the hearts and loins of millions of male admirers across the globe. She had first made news by wearing bright red French-cut panties under her short skirt, and though she received reprimands from numerous umpires she continued to wear similar underwear in tournament after tournament. Her skirts were generally not excessively minuscule, but they were made of such a light material that they flew up around her waist at the slightest breeze, and she was not quick to cover her modesty. She obviously adored the limelight.As did Tina, who found herself driven to further exhibitionistic acts on the court just so she could keep herself in the media spotlight. In the French Open, she had worn a skirt that only barely covered her buttocks, with lacy panties beneath. The skirt was made of a stiff material that would neither fly up nor ride up, but whenever she bent over she knew she was showing her panties to the crowds and the cameras.Her fan sites doubled in number, then trebled. Fan mail poured in, as did the contracts, and she carefully ignored the vicious backlash from conservative groups. The people she had intended to thrill were thrilled.For this year’s Wimbledon, she had prepared well. The stretchy skirt idea had been a good one, but it had been flawed. Now, however, she had ironed out the problems. A skirt had been designed and made for her specially – one that would ride up as she moved, but not too quickly. Unlike her night-club skirt of the previous year, this one would not end up around her waist. Indeed, even after the longest, most vigorous points, it would uncover no more than a centimetre of the lower curves of her buttocks. Thus she could be sexy, but safe in the knowledge that she was in control.The dress code for this Wimbledon had been re-written. With new money pouring into the game, big name sponsors had put pressure on the rules committee to allow the female players a little flexibility. In short, the players could wear skirts of any length as long as they covered the buttocks while the player was at rest and standing straight, and the underwear rules had been relaxed to permit any kind of underwear except thongs and g-strings. There had been fierce opposition to these changes, and a few resignations had occurred. But the changes had stuck.So, on the first day of the Wimbledon fortnight, Tina had strode on to the court wearing a semi-stretchy white miniskirt that covered her buttocks with almost an inch to spare, with a pair of pale blue French-cut panties underneath. The outfit had gone down a storm. Every day for the last week and a half, she had graced several pages of each and every tabloid in the country. She practically received a standing ovation every time she walked out on to the court.And today she faced Laura Lessing. Laura had received a similarly rapturous welcome on her first day, as she appeared on court wearing not only her trademark ‘flying’ skirt, but also a tight tank top through which the outline of her bra was clearly visible. The tabloids contained nearly as many photos of Laura as they did of Tina. In fact, over the last couple of days Tina had been incensed to discover herself almost marginalised by full-page spreads of Laura’s latest gimmick – a pair of French-cut panties that had been judiciously altered to turn them almost, but not quite, into a thong. And the committee did not object! This angered Tina. Laura was flouting the new rules and getting away with it!So last night, Tina had decided she was not going to be outdone in her own match. She had summoned her tailor (she never went anywhere without him these days), and given him the job of ‘editing’ her own panties. She showed him the picture of Laura’s bottom adorning the front page of The Quasar. “I want you to make mine even skimpier than that,” she said, “while still not being a thong.”Gerard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That … will be tricky,” he remarked. “But I’ll give it a try.”And so he had. The following morning, Tina was impressed with the result.“That will surely slip between my buttocks,” she observed critically.“It will, after a short while,” agreed Gerard. “But it’s not a thong – not quite. And I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of pulling it out of your arse every few points in front of the cameras.”Tina considered this, and a smile came to her lips. “Yes…” she said.“That will be fun.”But Martin, her manager, was outraged when he saw the garment. “You cannot wear that!” he exclaimed. “It’s hardly any bigger than the thong you wore last year! And just remember – you almost got banned from Wimbledon on account of that little stunt.”“It wasn’t a stunt!” objected Tina. “But that’s academic anyway. They’ve relaxed the rules since then, as well you know.”“But there are still rules,” Martin insisted. “And one of them is that thongs aren’t allowed.”“This isn’t a thong,” said Tina.“It virtually is. And when it’s bunched up between your butt cheeks, who’s going to know the difference?”“Who indeed?” Tina smiled wryly. “But I can easily prove to them that it isn’t.”Martin frowned, then turned on his heel and walked away.“He’ll get over it,” Gerard told her. “Now, about this top…”“Oh yes! Do you have it?”“It’s in your bag,” said the tailor. “Check it out – I think you’ll like it.”Tina hurried through to her room and placed the almost-thong on her bed next to her equipment bag. Opening the bag, she smiled as she spotted a white cut-off t-shirt folded neatly on the top. She smiled to herself.This was her latest gambit – exposure of the midriff. She pulled it out and held it up, giggling naughtily. Then she pulled out the miniskirt and sighed happily as she imagined the whole combination. This was going to be a good day. Finally she went through the rest of the equipment in the bag, making sure it was all present. She was not going to make the same mistake she had made this time last year!Placing her racquets in the bag first, she re-packed everything, leaving her clothing until last. She hesitated for a moment, then resisted the temptation to try the clothes on before packing them, too. She laid the panties and the skirt side by side on top of her track suit, then placed the t-shirt on top.“Tina?”She turned around at the sound of her manager’s voice. “Yes Martin?”“Waldo’s here – he wants to talk to you about tonight’s do.”Tina frowned. “Couldn’t he have phoned?”“He was in the hotel,” explained Martin. “Thought he’d ‘just drop by’ or something.”“Okay, I’m coming.” Tina stood up and went out to meet her agent.Waldo was a tall man with a thick crop of wild grey hair that always looked as if he’d been out in a strong wind. He had a habit of finishing every other sentence with “don’t you know” and his eyebrows bobbed up and down as he talked. Tina found him rather intimidating, but he was the best agent she’d had.“Ahem, well Tina, good morning and how do you do,” he pronounced sternly.“I’ve been chewing the old fat with the blokes at the press office and they happened to bring up the subject of interviews, don’t you know. So I thought to myself, as I am wont to do, ‘now here if I am not greatly mistaken is an opportunity old boy’ and …”Tina only half-listened, fascinated by his eyebrows, as Waldo trundled on through a terribly one-sided conversation at the end of which he paused, awaiting her response. She shook herself. “Ah, whatever you think is best, Waldo,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”“Most gratifying I am sure, well I’ll be tootling off now if you’ll pardon my flying visit – oh and I have another advertising contract I need to discuss with you, but it can wait until tonight, what? Or even tomorrow don’t you know. Toodle-pip.” And with that he swept out of the room.“We should be leaving,” said Martin, coming back into the room. “Are you ready?”“Sure,” said Tina. “Let me grab my bag.”She walked back into her bedroom and reached down to zip up her bag. Then she stopped. Something was not quite right. Her eyes narrowing, she slid her hand down the side of the bag and pulled out a white object that she had just glimpsed the corner of. It was a pair of conservative white panties.Annoyed, she flung them on to the floor. “Thought you’d try to convince me of the error of my ways, did you Martin?” she muttered.She said nothing to Martin as they left the hotel, and only in the car did she finally break her silence. “Honestly Martin,” she reprimanded him.“Sometimes you act just like my mother.”“Huh?” Martin looked puzzled.“The panties?”“Oh.” Martin flushed and responded defensively, “Well I’m sorry, but there are limits, you know.”“Just forget it,” said Tina.In the Centre Court changing rooms she met up with her arch-rival, and today’s opponent, Laura Lessing. “Hi,” said Tina rather coldly.“Hi Tina!” Laura gushed. “Wow, I’m so happy to be playing against you at last! You are my absolute hero, you know.”Tina was utterly disarmed, and found herself rather flustered. “Well, I…” she began. “Thank you! That’s nice of you to say so.”“I think it’s great what you’ve done for women’s tennis,” continued Laura.“You’ve possibly seen my, um … tributes … to your groundbreaking stunt last year…”“It wasn’t…” Tina began, before changing her mind. “Well, I guess I always figured you were trying to outdo me,” she said. “You must admit you’ve become rather popular yourself…”“I know!” Laura’s eyes were like saucers, as if she could barely comprehend the idea. “Isn’t it amazing? I mean, I’m nowhere near as pretty as you – I’m just overwhelmed at the attention I’ve got.”Tina chuckled. “Have you ever thought of, you know, toning it down a little?”Laura looked surprised. “Why, no,” she said. “Have you?” But she did not wait for a response before continuing in a conspiratorial whisper, “I just love to go a little further each time, you see. I know sooner or later I’ll get into trouble, but isn’t it amazing what they’ll let you get away with this year?”“Yes, it is,” agreed Tina. She sighed and began to undress. “Guess we’d better get into our skimpy outfits then.”Laura giggled. “Ooh yes,” she said.Tina pulled her t-shirt and skirt out of her bag, then stared into her bag in horror. Her heart plummeted into her shoes. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.“What is it?” asked Laura in alarm.“My panties! They’re not here!”“What? Are you sure?”Tina suddenly realised with a shock that Martin had not only placed a conservative pair of panties in her bag, he had removed the other pair at the same time! “I don’t believe it!” she said. “My manager’s taken them out!”“Can’t you wear what you’re wearing now?” inquired Laura. “As I understand it, that’s what you did last year.”“I’m not wearing underwear,” hissed Tina sharply.“Ah,” said Laura. “Oops.”“Hey, are you wearing panties?” asked Tina on a sudden thought.“Yes but…”“Great! Can I wear them?”“No! I’m wearing the ones I’ll be wearing on the court!”“Oh.” Tina was crestfallen. “Good grief, what a fix.”“What skirt have you got?” inquired Laura.Tina showed her.Laura nodded. “Ah yes, I know that one. It doesn’t ride up much, does it?”“Not much,” conceded Tina. “But enough, probably.”“Maybe not, if you’re careful. And won’t it be awesome? Think of it – the first woman to play tennis at a Grand Slam tournament without panties!” Tina groaned. “I suppose it’s possible I might get away with it,” she said. “But I’ll be giving you the advantage.”Laura waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense,” she said airily. “You’re the better player – you’ll have no problems.”Tina stared at Laura, perplexed. “What kind of pep-talk do you give yourself?” she inquired. “Are you expecting to lose?”“I don’t mind.” Laura shrugged. “I’m just out to play my best and have a good time. I don’t have any illusions.”Tina shook her head in great puzzlement, then sighed as she considered her position. Eventually she decided to bite the bullet, and changed into her miniskirt, sports bra and cut-off t-shirt. The latter item caught her by surprise – it was far tighter than she had imagined.Laura whistled. “Wow, sexy!” Tina chuckled. The top really was tight – it clung to every curve of her breasts and the bra beneath made highly visible ridges in its fabric. She decided she rather liked the effect.But then she noticed what Laura was wearing. She gasped. “Oh my goodness!” Laura had really pulled out all the stops, knowing she was up against the woman who had started the whole revolution in women’s tennis wear. Her light skirt had been drastically reduced in length – it barely covered her buttocks – and she was wearing a tight lycra crop-top that made Tina’s t-shirt seem almost conservative. “How do I look?” she asked.“You look … naked!” exclaimed Tina.Laura giggled. “Why thank you!” she said.The two girls donned their track suits and walked out to meet the crowd, to whistles and cheers and great applause. They lapped it up. Then Martin arrived.“Where have you been?” Tina hissed.“Getting a drink,” he said. “What’s up?”“What’s up??” Tina fought to control her anger. “Martin you idiot, I didn’t realise you’d taken my panties out of my bag!”“Huh?”“Those ones you put in there – I threw them away! Now I have nothing!” Martin gasped in shock. “Oh … my … God,” he managed at last.“Tell me about it. Now do you think you can go and get me some?”“Well, I’ll try,” he said, “but you know what the traffic’s like. Remember the last time?”“You don’t need to go all the way back to the hotel,” she told him. “Just find a clothes shop.”Martin nodded. “Okay,” he said, and hurried off.The sky was overcast as the two girls took off their track suits to rapturous applause. Cameras snapped in their hundreds. Tina had stomach butterflies as she began her warm up with a few serves from the right-hand side of the court. But her skirt stayed put (pretty much), and she made sure its hem stayed well below her buttocks. The breeze on her naked pussy made her feel terribly uneasy, but she forced herself not to think about it, and tried to concentrate on serving well.Meanwhile, Laura was getting all the attention. She was leaping high in every serve, her skirt flying up to reveal a pair of white silk panties that were almost as small as the ones Tina had been planning to wear. And they looked as if they were several sizes too small. Already the material at the back was creeping between her buttocks, and she made no attempt to rectify the situation. And she took her time about bending over (with straight legs) to pick up balls from the grass.Tina was a little relieved not to have all the cameras scrutinising her, but also rather annoyed that the crowd was watching Laura and not her.Nevertheless, she did not dare to let her skirt ride any higher than it was doing already, so she forced herself to ignore her opponent’s exhibitionistic antics and the crowd’s response.The match began. As expected, Tina’s skirt did not ride up much, and she began to relax a little. She was careful not to allow any point to go on for too long (sometimes this meant giving Laura the occasional point, but she could afford them), and gradually she began to feel that she was, after all, in control. After four games, the score was 3:1, and Tina was about to serve in the fifth when it began to rain.It was just a light drizzle, but after only a couple of points the grass was beginning to get slippery, and after a meaningful glance from Tina, the umpire ordered the covers to be brought out. Tina was relieved – it would buy her some time before Martin got back.But the covers were not on for long. Five minutes later the rain had ceased, and the players were cleared to resume the game. This they did, but this time Laura had the advantage. The damp grass caused them both to slip on several occasions, but whereas Laura took this in her stride, relishing the opportunity to flash her panties yet again, Tina could not afford to let her skirt ride up at all. So she played it safe, taking only small steps, while Laura capitalised on the opportunity to break serve for the first time.The drizzle began again in the next game, but stopped after only a couple of minutes. Tina was by now getting rather frustrated. She lost to Laura’s serve, then lost her own serve after that. Things were not going well. On the positive side, the rain was causing her t-shirt to cling even tighter to her chest, and the material was even easier to see through now that it was damp.Laura could not help but notice this as she came all the way up to the net to slam home a winning cross-court volley. She realised that her own crop top was not the type of garment to turn transparent in the rain, and she wished she had thought to wear a thin t-shirt like Tina’s. But perhaps there was something else she could do…At the beginning of the ninth game, with the score at 5:3 (to Laura), Tina bounced a ball in front of her, glancing occasionally at her opponent. She watched as Laura hopped from one foot to the other, bouncing on the spot, and then frowned. Laura seemed a little more … bouncy? than usual.And then she realised the startling truth: that her opponent had taken off her bra! Laura’s crop top was now bouncing under the influence of a pair of decidedly unfettered breasts (and Laura’s chest was fairly large for a tennis player).“Two can play at that game,” thought Tina to herself, and she clenched her teeth in a new resolve.Determined to pull herself back into the match, Tina began to take a few more risks. She managed to win her serve, but then had a nasty fright in Laura’s service game. While running at full-stretch to intercept an attempted pass, she slipped and abruptly did the splits (almost) on the damp grass. She squealed in horror and immediately closed her legs, pulling her skirt down to cover her neatly-trimmed pubic hair.There were one or two puzzled stares from the crowd, but the glimpse had been too brief for them to be sure about what they had seen. Tina could almost hear their comments: “Did you just see what I saw? Well, I’m not sure… it looked like she’s not wearing panties… Of course, I could be wrong…”She got to her feet, somewhat rattled, and returned to the baseline. The next couple of points went badly, and soon she found herself facing the wrong end of a set point. Biting her lip in anxiety, she was almost wrong-footed as the ball came hurtling down the court to her right-hand side. She launched herself towards it.Her foot slipped, and shot backwards. She sank to the floor as the ball whipped past her unmet. Her skirt had ridden up again and she hastily pulled it down as she got to her feet. Again, the whispers…“Game and first set to Miss Lessing,” announced the umpire.Tina sighed unhappily and prepared to serve. The lack of a bra certainly had not severely handicapped her opponent’s game. In fact, she seemed to have acquired a new confidence and was making very few errors. Still, her serve was not strong and could be beaten.By serving well, and taking some judicious risks, Tina succeeded in winning her service game. Smiling to herself as she sat down, she decided to up the stakes in the battle for the press’s attention. As surreptitiously as she could, she unclasped her bra and slipped it off, pulling it out through the left arm-hole of her t-shirt and dropping it into her bag. Immediately the damp t-shirt clung to her bare breasts, and with an involuntary shiver she realised she could just make out her nipples through the thin material. She was sure that the press cameras would also be able to see them.Without bra or panties, she walked out on to the court in just a cut-off t-shirt and a microskirt. Feeling naked and vulnerable but also rather aroused, she winked at Laura before her opponent served. The sensation of playing with no restraints on her breasts, however, was too unfamiliar and her return went wide. Laura’s next serve she pounded back into the net.Cursing to herself, she prepared to try again. She was annoyed with herself for having so much difficulty playing without a bra, when Laura seemed to be managing just fine.‘She probably practices without a bra all the time,’ she thought to herself suddenly. ‘Oh heck, what have I let myself in for?’ She lost that game, and then her own service game. Now 2:1 down, she watched as Laura prepared to serve once again. Her nineteen-year-old opponent’s crop top seemed a little skimpier somehow, and Tina frowned.What had the dratted girl done now? A brief rendezvous at the net in the next point answered her question.Laura had folded over part of her top, so that not only was it now more revealing, but it was also serving to keep her breasts in place more effectively. This was a clever plan, but it was risky – too much bouncing and Laura’s breasts would pop out from underneath the crop top. No doubt that added to the girl’s thrill.The drizzle began again, but not before Tina had broken serve, and then held on to her own serve, to bring the score to 3:2. As the two girls sat down in their respective places, the umpire leaned over to speak to Tina.“Miss Hathaway?” he said.Tina looked up guiltily. She folded her arms across her chest, convinced he was going to reprimand her for removing her bra. But she was mistaken.“How’s the court?” he asked. “I’m considering abandoning play, but it’s up to you two. Miss Lessing is happy to continue, so it’s your decision.”Tina thought for a moment. Martin was not back yet, but he surely would be soon. And she was beginning to play better now. Finally she was back in the lead, and she was becoming confident she could stay ahead until the end of this set. Furthermore, she was enjoying the way the drizzle was making her t-shirt more see-through every minute. “I’m okay for the moment,” she said. “It’s not that bad out there.”“Very well,” said the umpire, nodding.Tina took a swig from her water bottle, then got up and returned to the court.Two lost games later, she was regretting her decision. The drizzle had stopped, but the ground was still rather wet and slippery. She no longer felt she had an excuse for requesting that play be abandoned, and her t-shirt was not getting any more transparent. Facing what could possibly be her penultimate game of this tournament, she decided to go all out in her efforts to win the publicity battle. If she could not win the match, at least she could still steal the next day’s headlines from that upstart Laura.Carefully and deliberately, she poured the remaining contents of her water bottle over her chest, making sure she covered both breasts equally. The material quickly turned almost completely transparent, and despite herself she gasped at the sight of her breasts staring back at her. The wet t-shirt clung tightly to every contour and concealed nothing.Holding her head high (while trying not to meet anyone’s gaze), she marched out on to the court once again. Laura did the same, but then her jaw dropped as she saw Tina’s transformation. Tina saw her giggle and then hold up a thumb in admiring support.“Miss Hathaway…” came the umpire’s voice over the loudspeaker.Tina trotted over to speak to him.The umpire leaned over and said, “Enough is enough, Miss Hathaway. This is not a wet t-shirt contest, it is a tennis match. The new rules regarding the dress code are there to encourage freedom of expression, not indecent behaviour. Do you have another shirt?”“I’m afraid not,” confessed Tina.The umpire sighed. “And where is your bra?”“It broke,” Tina lied.“All right, but one more lewd act on your part and I will disqualify you and ban you from the tournament. The whole tone of this event has dropped through the floor, and I’m damned if I’m going to take it any more.”Tina nodded. “I understand.” Rather subdued, she returned to the court.The game went badly. Tina found her t-shirt highly distracting, and with every bounce it rode higher and higher and threatened to expose her breasts to the world. Soon it was revealing as much flesh as Laura’s crop top.Nevertheless, she liked the effect and did not attempt to replace it, until she heard a warning cough from the umpire. She hastily pulled it down.She lost that game, and prepared to serve to stay in the match. She served well, but a good return surprised her and she failed to clear the net with her follow-up shot. Then she noticed that her vigorous serve had resulted in her t-shirt being hoisted up high on her chest. Only a half-inch of material extended below the lower curve of her breasts. Rather reluctantly, she pulled the t-shirt down.The next few serves had similar effects, but a longer point almost resulted in her breasts popping free of the t-shirt entirely. She won two points, but also lost two.So now she was at match point, again, and this time her predicament was even worse. What could she do? If she preserved her modesty and lost, was that any better than going all out and perhaps being banned from the rest of the tournament? Probably not.She served, and at once felt her t-shirt climb up again. But she ignored it and concentrated on trying to predict where Laura’s return would end up.It was short – that was good. Tina raced forward and whipped the ball over to the far corner. But Laura, realising the danger, was already almost there. She hammered it back down the line, and Tina had to lunge to reach it. She made it, just, and the ball bounced high off her racquet – a mis-hit.Laura was quick to take advantage, her chest bouncing as she ran around the back of the ball. She attempted to fire it down the right-hand line, but Tina caught it at the net with a drop volley. However, it bounced harder off her racquet than she had intended, leaving Laura with an easy opportunity for a lob. Tina raced backwards, only to find to her horror that Laura was not going for the lob at all. She was responding with a drop shot of her own.Tina sprinted forwards, just reaching the ball in time. But as she dug her feet in to brake herself, they slid on the wet grass, shooting right under the net. Tina yelped as she fell to the ground and slid forwards on her back. Her skirt, caught by the net as she passed beneath it, was yanked up to her waist. Her t-shirt was pulled up by sheer friction, both on the ground and on the bottom of the net, until it was wrapped around her neck.At this point Tina came to an abrupt halt, with her head on one side of the net and her rather unclothed body on the other.The crowd fell into a stunned silence, then erupted in a cacophony of wolf-whistles, cheers and thunderous applause. The umpire’s announcement of “Game, set and match to Miss Lessing” went completely unheard. Laura, meanwhile, walked over to where Tina was lying with her pussy and breasts fully exposed to the crowd and to the world’s photographers. She looked down at Tina and smiled.“You win,” she said.THE END

One evening I chatted with a man online who expressed interest in a real meeting. He sent me a pic…

I meet this guy in a bar one night while on a business trip and we got talking we both…

This story is a work of fiction, purely a fantasy. If you are offended by fantasy descriptions of rough nonconsensual sex, torture, or the ingestion of a wide range of bodily fluids, you should not read this story, nor should you read it if you are under 18 years of age. The story was written for White Shadow’s Nasty Stories. The holder of copyright– gives readers his permission to copy the story, but only if this disclaimer is copied as well. Butterflies. Butterflies in her stomach. A pretty thought, but not really what she felt like. No: when Trinh woke up it was 4 am, the middle of the night still, her stomach in knots, and her hands shaking. Not butterflies, more like some small animal — much larger and more powerful than a butterfly, with sharp teeth and claws — was trapped inside her belly and was trying to tear its way out. No way she could get back to sleep now. She went to the bathroom, washed her face, then she sat on the side of the tub and listened to the water run. She started to cry, not much, a tear or two, but she was upset. I shouldn’t do this, I shouldn’t do this, she kept saying to herself. But she felt like it was too late to back out. Plus, all the reasons she’d persuaded herself to do it in the first place were still there, still good reasons. I mean, the money, the money was incredible — $5000, for what, maybe two hours work, more like ninety minutes — that was insane, how could she pass that up? A friend of hers had had a spinal tap — can you imagine? — a spinal tap done at one of those medical study places, Pharmco or whatever it was — and she’d only made $4000. $4000! For a spinal tap! And here was $5000 just waiting, no pain, no work at all — just masturbating for an hour and a half while some sleazy guy taped it– very embarrassing, sure, and what if people — like her parents, oh God! — found out about it later. Ray, the guy who wanted her to make the tape, promised he’d only make one copy of the tape — for himself, the original went to a wealthy private collector. Trinh didn’t really believe this, figured at least a few copies would be distributed somehow — she just hoped not too widely. But really, $5000 dollars was a lot of money. She laughed and told herself that this was it, after today she’d never be able to get through the confirmation hearings, if she ever got nominated to the Supreme Court or something. She was giggling now, thinking of the headlines “First Vietnamese-American Supreme Court Nominee Admits Making Solo Porn Tape.” Well, goodbye to all that, Trinh thought, I’ll have to content myself with a lucrative but ignoble life in the private sector. She was laughing, feeling better. Still giggling as she gingerly lowered her little body into the steaming water. Ray looked at her picture again. She was what, 19, 20 — hard to believe she was that old, even. She looked like a kid, she could have been 13 or 14, a big smile and a sweet face, lovely jet black hair, her chest quite flat, narrow hips, what might have been called a lithe body except she was so short, not even five feet — a classic Vietnamese look, although supposedly she was half Chinese or something. A smart girl too — “a prestigious college in New England,” the card said, well, that could mean a lot of places, although he was pretty sure she lived no more than two or three hours from Boston — probably nervous as hell right now, but trying to congratulate herself on being so brave. Well, he chuckled to himself; little Miss Ivy League Asian Good Girl was in over her head this time, however brave she thought she was being. These specialty jobs were always the sweetest, $25,000 with some expenses covered to shoot six hours of videotape, the girl had to meet certain specs, a number of required acts, but really it was pretty easy. He’d hire a thuggish buddy of his to help out, pay him a couple thousand at most, a second cameraman, another couple thousand or so, the girl got a thousand up front as bait–she would never see any more money than that — so he ought to make close to $20,000 for this. And you couldn’t really call it work, either. Too much fun for that. Four foot eleven, and about ninety pounds. Just a little tiny slip of a girl. It was going to be enormous fun, stretching her out, and making her scream. Sitting on the T, her hands clutched tight to the bag in her lap, Trinh tried to think of $5000 and nothing else. $5000. No point now in worrying about how she got herself into this, it was happening, she was on her way, she couldn’t back out now. She needed the money; she had expenses her parents couldn’t understand. They were so sweet, but so strict; they wanted to manage every facet of her life and until Trinh had some money of her own, she was at their mercy. She was an adult now, and they would never understand that. Fuck, she said to herself — Trinh almost never cursed out loud, she really was prim in most ways, and she looked it, but in her head she swore and cursed and had the most dirty thoughts, she was a freak in her head, that’s probably why she’d agreed to do this — fuck, she said to herself, why am thinking about my parents? That’s not going to get me in the right mood. She closed her eyes, tried to relax. She thought of what she often did when she masturbated, two men, much larger than her, forcing her to the ground, holding her legs apart, pushing dirty fingers inside her… it was all kind of shadowy, the men hazy, just dim male shapes really, the pain kind of abstract. At first Trinh saw herself from the outside, from above, as they grabbed her and held her… but as it went on it became more real, the hands on her body, she could almost feel them, even sitting there on the T, clutching her bag, she could almost feel them holding her open, penetrating her vagina, her CUNT — she made herself think CUNT, you have a CUNT, Trinh, not a pussy or a clinical vagina, a CUNT, I have a hungry CUNT between my legs — and then the men in her head were calling her cunt, slut, whore, and then a penis, a large one, a BIG COCK was forcing its way inside, violently stretching her cunt, she was bleeding, screaming… She was shivering, shaking with desire, very wet already, sitting there on the T, feeling the dampness in her panties. That one always worked, the violent ones always got to her, other fantasies were just pictures, dry papery pictures in her head, but the violent ones somehow always came alive, felt real… made her come. Trinh was shy; she had trouble coming, trouble letting go, even with herself. She was late to begin masturbating, had been a virgin when she got to college. Barely not a virgin now, really, truthfully. God, she was going to have to think about all kinds of horrible stuff today if she was going to make herself come in front of that sleazy guy with his video camera. She took out the “script” — that sounded so silly, there weren’t any words, but what else to call it? — and went over the scenes again. Four scenes, between 20 minutes and half an hour each. The first was Trinh lying back on the bed slowly fingering herself; the next was Trinh playing with a little vibrator — not the kind you insert, just one that buzzed away on her clit — while sitting on the toilet. That was the one she dreaded. Ray had offered her an extra $500 to pee on camera, but she wouldn’t do it, not even for $1000. God, it was going to be hard masturbate sitting with her legs open on the toilet, using a vibrator was going to be strange enough. Then in the third scene she was back on the bed, with a big–well, big for Trinh, anyway–dildo, pushing it in deep. Finally she was to lie face down on the bed and hump a pillow, rubbing it between her legs until she came. Trinh had never masturbated that way, and it was awkward, when she had tried it a few nights ago, it took some getting used to, but she thought she could probably handle it. Oh God she was really dreading this. And Ray wanted her to try to talk as dirty as she could through the whole thing too. She had told him that she was too shy, that she had trouble saying bad words and stuff, but he said for her to try, if she was shy and embarrassed by talking dirty that would come across to the camera and that would be even hotter. It had made her embarrassed just to hear Ray say that! But she’d said she would try, try to talk as filthy as she could. She didn’t want to do this thing half-assed, she’d told him, and then giggled. That’s my girl, Ray had said in his soft southern accent, smiling at her.porn taboo storiesShe got off the T and walked the few blocks to the address Ray had given her, the thick moisture a little uncomfortable between her legs. It was a nice old house, a fancy one, in Newton. This was a little surprising. She checked the address again, made sure: apparently she had the right place. There was no bell; she timidly knocked on the door. After a few seconds, she knocked again, much harder. Ray opened the door, looking friendly but serious. He asked her politely if she was still ready to do this, everything they’d talked about before, and Trinh whispered a shy “yes.” Ray broke into a big smile, he was like a little boy, Trinh thought, a little boy getting to see a girl take her clothes off for the first time. Ray led her into the house, to a large bedroom and Trinh was caught off guard: there were two guys already in the room, one was fiddling with a camera and the other was just lounging like a slob in a chair. Trinh hadn’t counted on having to masturbate in front of anyone other than Ray. “Ray,” she said softly, “who are they?” The cameraman was not old — maybe thirty — but he looked like he’d let a rough life. He was paunchy, kind of oily looking, with longish greasy hair and bad skin. He was just the sort you’d expect to be filming a video like this. The other guy was similar but worse, taller, fatter, dirtier, meaner-looking. “Just relax, Trinh, everything’s fine, OK, just like we agreed. C.J. here is a cameraman, he’s done a lot of these tapes, he’s better than I am. I’m going to run the second camera when we use that, OK. And Dan back here, well, he just wants to watch, it’s true, but because if he likes what you do for us today, he might be able to get you lots more work like this… could be a pretty good deal for you, Trinh, and since you were so emphatic about me making no copies of the tape we make today, I figured he’d have to come along, you know, to get some idea what you’re like… it’s really not a big deal, Trinh…” Ray put his hand low on Trinh’s back and kind of guided her to the bed. Ooooh, his hand felt creepy, Trinh shivered and wondered how she was ever going to make it through the next few hours. She sat on the edge of the bed and said, “OK, Ray. An extra cameraman I understand, but some guy just checking me out while I do this? Come on, Ray. That’s worth another thousand dollars, I think.” Oh God she was so proud of herself for insisting on more money, it was so assertive and in control, not at all like the meek prim little Trinh that she was sick of always being. “You’re right, Trinh, you’re absolutely right, he shouldn’t get it for free, another let’s say, $500, that should be enough, shouldn’t it, what do you say, Trinh?” Ray was eager to start, she could tell, and the slobby guy, what was his name, Dan, he just kind of shrugged nonchalantly, so Trinh said, in the coolest voice she could manage, “I said $1000, Ray. $1000, or I walk or he walks.” Oh God she hoped that sounded as tough and cool as she wanted it to sound. Again the guy shrugged and Ray said, “That’s fine Trinh, OK, $1000 extra for Dan to watch, great. You’re pretty shrewd, Trinh, not as much of a kid as you look, you can tell I really want to make this movie with you. It’s going to be great. Are you nervous?” “No,” Trinh said, and then she started to laugh. “I’m lying, Ray. I’m super nervous.” “Excited though, right, still excited?” he said, “Because you look so wonderful and you’re just so sexy that I’m sure it’ll be great, a lot of fun.” A faint little mechanical sound, and a red light lit up: tape was rolling, she was being videotaped now, and the point of no return was past. “Yeah,” Trinh said bashfully. “I’m excited.” “Are you wet already, Trinh?” She looked down, away from Ray, but then made herself look up, right at the camera. “Yeah,” she said as firmly as she could, “Yes, I’m very wet right now. My… my cunt is very wet.” Her face felt hot, she was extremely embarrassed, but she had done it, talked dirty on camera. It could only get easier now. “What are you going to do for us today, Trinh? Are you going to show us that wet little pussy of yours?” “Yes,” she said. “I’m going to… to masturbate, you know, make myself come… with you… watching.” Stop being so shy, she told herself forcefully. “I’m going to stick my fingers in my wet little hole for you.” Ooooh her face was hot and flushed now, but that was better, be dirty, talk dirty, Trinh, she told herself. “Will you take off your clothes for us now Trinh?” Trinh stood and peeled off her tee shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her dark little nipples stuck out like hard little knots from her flat chest. She unbuttoned her silk pants, pulled them half way down. Ray was nodding appreciatively. She could not look at the other men, or at the camera; she stayed focused on Ray. She sat back on the edge of the bed and unfastened her shoes, pulled them off, then her socks, then her pants. All she had on now was a little pair of black cotton panties. The black was a good choice, she was pretty confident the huge wet spot was not visible. “The panties too?” she asked. Ray nodded and she wiggled out of them. “Spread your legs, please, Trinh,” Ray said hoarsely. She was embarrassed but she made herself do it, opening her thin little legs as wide as she could. She hadn’t shaved down there; her pubic hair wasn’t much anyway. She guessed that Ray had probably wanted her to shave: she knew one reason they’d probably picked her to do this tape was that she was so small and young-looking, like a little girl. That kind of sickened Trinh a bit and made her angry too — everyone always thought she was so much younger than she was — so she didn’t shave, didn’t want to play their game. Ray hadn’t asked, anyway, so he couldn’t really have expected her to shave anyway: she wasn’t a porn star, shaving her pussy wasn’t something she did. “Your cunt fur is very nice Trinh,” Ray said like he was reading her mind, “so dark and sparse, I love it, it’s lovely.” Wow, that made her feel strange, hearing him say that, but she managed to keep her legs wide open. “Get in close,” Ray said to the cameraman, “make sure you can see how wet she is.” Trinh felt dizzy, hearing that. She lightly touched her lips and felt that yes, she was so wet, it was probably easily visible to the camera. She was soupy and goopy and sloppy-wet down there, all right. She felt feverish; her face was blushing so hot. She always got so wet; so wet it made her self-conscious. She had sometimes watched in a mirror while she fingered herself, and she was always amazed, watching the tremendous gush of syrupy fluid flow out as she rubbed herself. “Trinh how often do you masturbate?” “A couple of times a week, I guess, on average,” Trinh said. “How do you masturbate? Tell us.” Ray had started to leer a little bit when he said this. He was looking into her eyes then down at her cunt. Trinh’s pussy was opening up a little, by itself; her hands were still at her sides. “I…” she stuttered a little, “I… well, I use my fingers, mostly. I have a dildo but I don’t use it much.” “Do you ever use a vibrator, Trinh?” “No.” “Do you play with your asshole as well as your pussy, Trinh, when you masturbate?” “Sometimes.” That was a big secret. She’d always pretended to be turned off by the idea of anal sex and anal insertion of any kind the few times it had come up, either when her boyfriend mentioned it or when talking about sex with other girls. But she did sometimes push a finger — or more commonly, the handle of a hairbrush — up inside her tiny little asshole when she rubbed her pussy. “What do you use, I mean, how do you play with your dirty little asshole, Trinh, when you play with it?” “I… I sometimes push a hairbrush handle, you know, inside me back there… it feels really dirty and snug and filled up…” “What sort of fantasies do you have Trinh? When you masturbate? What helps you have the biggest orgasms?” “It’s too private to talk about,” Trinh whispered. “Well Trinh when you start masturbating for us in a few minutes what will be running through that pretty sweet head of yours? Don’t be shy: please tell us.” “I have… a lot of very… you know, very violent fantasies… rape fantasies I guess… I think about that sometimes,” she was barely audible. “Say that again, Trinh, what sort of fantasies?” Ray asked. More loudly she said, “Rape fantasies. Violent and disgusting ones.” “Really Trinh? Why don’t you tell us about one of these rape fantasies of yours while you masturbate for us?” Trinh positioned herself more comfortably on the bed and began rubbing a finger gently in circles around her clit, then sneaking down and playing with her lips, pressing a finger a little way inside her vagina. Starting slowly — but she was already so wet, so hot, so ready. It wouldn’t take much to make her come the first time. “I just you know think about men grabbing me, holding me down, forcing their big cocks into me, into my mouth and cunt and asshole, cocks too big for my body, you know,” this was hard to say, but it was making her pussy throb and itch to say it, “cocks that you know kinda split me open, make me… bleed I guess, huge cocks raping my little body…” “Is that what you’re thinking about now Trinh? Big cocks tearing up your tender little holes…”father son fuck step mom“Yeah,” she said, “a big man forcing his big dirty cock deep inside me, hurting me, making me scream and cry, making me bleed…” She was working her finger hard on her clit now and pressing a finger rapidly in and out of her cunt too, pushing herself, it was making her so hot to talk this way. “More than I can take, just raping me, raping me, forcing me to take his cock…” Her breathing was getting ragged, her pussy was tingling and pulsing and she was getting close, getting close… “Go ahead Trinh, make yourself come, thinking about being raped, hurt by huge cocks, monstrous hard cocks forced inside you, tearing you open…” It didn’t take much more, a couple of quick hard little circles right on her clit and she was coming, squealing and flopping and writhing on the bed, fingers buried deep inside her wetness, her clit just pulsating like it would explode… she lay back and closed her eyes and moaned and moaned, lost in her pleasure, so nice, so intense, rippling through her body in powerful waves, her toes were tingling, mmmmmmm… And then she felt hands grabbing her still quivering body, Ray and the other guy were pinning her down, what was happening? Oh God no, no please, Trinh thought and began to scream. The two men held her. She was kicking fiercely but they were holding her arms immobile and were well out of range of her legs. She was screaming and kicking, wildly snapping at them with her mouth ineffectively between screams. The cameraman was filming the whole thing. One of the men, not Ray, the larger one, Dan was it? straddled Trinh and sat on her, crushing the breath out of her and pinning her to the mattress. She raised her knees as hard as she could, trying to knee him in the small of the back, near his kidneys, but she couldn’t manage much force, not with the man’s body pressing down on her so hard. The man held Trinh’s thin arms together above her head while the Ray began to wrap gray electrical tape tightly around Trinh’s wrists. When Dan leaned forward to pin Trinh’s bound wrists against the headboard, to tape them in place there, Trinh mustered her strength and managed to bite him on the neck, not very hard. He cursed, let go of Trinh’s taped hands for a second, held her head still with one hand, and drove his other fist into her nose. A short quick punch, without that much force behind it, but the pain was surprisingly intense. She was stunned. He drew back his fist again, then paused, opened his hand and slapped her hard. That took some of the fight out of her. She wasn’t struggling much now but she was still screaming, screaming as loud as she could. She was still half-heartedly trying to kick as Ray and Dan spread her legs wide apart, each man securing an ankle to a bedpost. She was really helpless now, spread open and bound, open to whatever these men wanted to do to her. She was crying now, still screaming too, hot tears running down her face as she screamed like a baby. “Let’s shut her up for a bit,” Ray said. He wadded up Trinh’s panties and shoved the wet black cotton mass into her mouth as she screamed, muting her. “Oooh that’s pretty,” the cameraman said, almost involuntarily, as he focused on Trinh’s tear-stained face, so fragile and lovely and helpless, stressed with pain and fear, the black panties crammed roughly into her mouth, which still made muffled little attempts to scream. “Work her tits a little, Dan,” Ray said. The man grinned and obliged, taking Trinh’s hard left nipple between thumb and forefinger and abruptly pinching very hard, and twisting. Trinh’s nipples were tiny and sensitive. She liked them to be pinched, hard; she could never get her boyfriend to do it hard enough. Sometimes when she masturbated, she put clothespins on her nipples and lately she’d taken to putting those little black binder-clips on them — God, they squeezed hard; it was all she could take. But this was much worse. He was pinching and twisting both nipples now, pulling her little tits away from her body, stretching them. Then he was biting her left nipple, God, so hard! He was drawing blood! Chewing hard on her nipple, tearing it like a piece of meat! Trinh closed her eyes, tried to close off her mind somehow, trying even to concentrate on the pain itself so she would not be tormented by fears of what would happen next. Things were just starting, she knew, everything would get so much worse before these men were done with her… so she just tried to focus on the pain itself, the spiky pain in her nipples. She felt something pushing inside her cunt, while the guy continued ripping her nipples with his teeth. It was small, a finger, probably. She tried to tighten up but it was already inside prodding her. It didn’t really hurt though, not like her nipple, which she could feel being scraped raw and lacerated and torn open by Dan’s teeth. All at once Dan stopped biting her; she opened her eyes to see the big dumb brute leering cheerfully at her, his stupid face smeared with her blood. It was sickening. He spat at her and a bit of flesh hit her face along with his bloody saliva. God, he had really bitten the tip of her nipple off! This was so terrible, so awful — she was trying to scream and she tried to look down at her ravaged little breasts, both nipples were badly torn, ragged looking, the left one still bleeding… Ray took his finger out of Trinh’s cunt and Dan lowered his mouth and quickly and expertly found her clit. He gripped it hard between his teeth and began to bite. This was worse, lots worse, that the nipples. She could feel him breaking the delicate skin, it was too much, the pain was too much, oh God, oh God, no, no, no, she was screaming, Ray took the panty gag out and her voice was shrill and piercing, she was screaming “oh please no please God no” over and over again in her high squeaky voice. Dan stopped biting her clit. The pain in her clit slacked off a little, but now she felt her torn nipples again too, her whole body was on fire now, it felt like. She continued to cry and scream. Dan stood next to Trinh’s face and he unbuttoned his pants. He lowered them, then his underwear, and a massive cock, long but mainly thick, the thickest Trinh had ever seen, even in pictures or movies, it was like a beer can almost, was inches from Trinh’s face. She was still fighting, trying to snap at his cock but she couldn’t reach it. Ray said, “It’s just like your fantasies Trinh, isn’t it? Dan’s cock will split your tiny little cunt wide open… oh won’t that make you come so hard Trinh, that big dirty cock just tearing your little open cunt apart?” Trinh was screaming, pleading, “Don’t please don’t, just let me go, please just let me go, I won’t press charges, just let me go…” Ray was laughing. He aimed his camera at Trinh’s face while C.J. got into position to tape the actual insertion, the actual pussy-ripping rape Trinh would soon be forced to endure. Dan stood between Trinh’s legs and without much preparation began to push the swollen head of his cock hard into her pussy. She was fighting still, trying to tighten up and close off her cunt, but it was no use, and her fighting made the pain worse… it was good that she was so wet, at least… she relaxed some and part of his cock slid in more easily. He was so big though, huge, and she could feel his cock stretching her skin, she was crying, but trying not to scream, trying to relax as much as she could, so it wouldn’t hurt so much… “Is she bleeding yet?” Ray asked C.J. “Oh yeah she’s nice and bloody down there, he’s really tearing her up,” C.J. said gleefully, his camera glued to the point of attack. Dan was grunting, straining, and pushing in as hard as he could. “Yes little bitch, take it, take it, little bitch,” he kept saying, almost to himself, as he pummeled Trinh’s helpless tiny pussy. She could feel him stretching her past the breaking point; feel her tender skin beginning to tear, beginning to bleed profusely. It felt like someone was fucking her hard with a baseball bat covered with sandpaper. She could feel the skin chafing–no, ripping open–with every hard thrust. She was screamed out now, just too tired to manage it, but she was sobbing and squealing a little each time her assailant pushed in deep. “I’m close,” Dan said loudly. “Where do you want it?” “Pull out and squirt on her belly. I don’t want it too sloppy in there when I fuck her,” Ray said. Dan pulled his enormous cock out of Trinh so fast she had to gasp, but she felt better — a little better — as soon as he was out of her. Dan leaned forward over her and stroked himself once, and suddenly his cock violently spat out a wave of thick sperm. It squirted out hard, and hit Trinh in the chin, on her neck, and then the little spurts covered her belly and her lower abdomen. A little pool of Dan’s repulsive semen collected in her bellybutton. “Oh God oh sweet fuck,” Dan said, “that’s so good, so good, she’s as tight as a little kid, God, I swear that’s the tightest little cunt I’ve ever been inside, it’s like fucking a ten year old, my God.” He was huffing and puffing and rubbing his softening cock, a little semen still oozing from its peehole. Trinh was in so much pain she was dizzy. It came from everywhere, her nipples, her ear, her cunt, lines of raw unquenchable pain radiating through her body. She was disoriented, very weak; letting out little gasps and sobs from time to time. Ray was taking off his pants. “Take a look, Trinh,” he said, standing beside her and turning her head so she could see his cock up close. It was smaller, a lot smaller than Dan’s, but still, bigger than average. “After having Dan inside you, you probably won’t even feel me,” Ray said, chuckling. Trinh hoped he was right. “Are you ready little bitch?” Ray asked. When Trinh made no response, he spit on her face. “I said ‘are you ready, little bitch?'” This time Trinh managed a little nod. “Good girl,” Ray said.amateur sex photoHe got down between Trinh’s legs and drove himself balls-deep into her cunt with one big thrust. It hurt some, but added to what she was already feeling, it wasn’t really much worse, not at first. “Oh yeah that’s nice,” Ray said, and he began to pump rapidly in and out. There was wetness, from Trinh’s pussy juices and her blood, and she was still pretty stretched out from Dan; Ray was sliding in and out easily, but the raw wounds from the earlier rape came alive with pain on every thrust. Before long it was almost as bad as it had been when Dan was raping her. She tried to close her mind down, to feel nothing, to keep herself separate from the pain, but every time he pushed hard into her, he was rubbing her poor tortured little cunt more and more raw, grinding her flesh almost, she couldn’t keep it from hurting, couldn’t minimize the pain, even in her exhaustion the pain was so intense, so unavoidable. I must be about to die, she kept thinking, I can’t take much more, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Too weak to scream steadily, but she was whispering, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t” as Ray pushed in and pulled out. “Oh God I’m there,” Ray squealed and he pulled his cock out and raised his body up over Trinh and squirted a hot messy pulse of gooey sperm all over her wincing little face. Ray rolled off, panting. “Jesus she’s a hot little whore, that was so good, so tight, even after you split her open,” he said to Dan. “Just like you said, practically like a little kid. What a hot bloody little hole, God damn.” The cameraman was holding the camera with one hand and with the other he unzipped and took his little cock out and rubbed it, aiming for Trinh’s face too, coming hard, shooting his own sour thin semen on top of Ray’s. The three men stood around her, their drooping cocks still dripping. Dan was starting to get stiff again, slowly. Trinh’s eyes were closed; she was holding her breath, trying to make herself lose consciousness. “Oh God Trinh you must be one tired little Ivy League bitch after all that,” Ray said to her in a mock-sweet voice. “You must be very thirsty.” Trinh opened her eyes and Ray immediately spit on her sperm-coated face. “Are you thirsty, little bitch?” Ray asked her. “Yes,” she said softly. “Please let me go now, please.” Ray said, “No baby doll, we aren’t nearly done with you, Trinh. Not at all. But if you’re thirsty, we can fix that. Are you ready, Dan?” Dan nodded. The big man then straddled her chest and pressed his smelly large penis against Trinh’s face. She was still crying quietly. His penis was smeared with her blood and her vaginal fluid –part of the awful smell was her own pussy, her own blood. The penis was sort of semi-hard now and the man kind of slapped it lightly against Trinh’s face, popping the stiffening flesh against her cheek. “Open your mouth, you little slut,” the man said. Trinh parted her lips, trying to prepare herself to have the smelly dirty cock forced deep into her mouth, down her throat. She knew she would gag, probably she would gag over and over again, she might vomit… she didn’t want to do that, didn’t want to risk choking to death… But then the man started urinating! He was pissing in her mouth! The taste was salty and sour and acrid… she tried to let it drool out of her mouth, but the man screamed, “Swallow my piss you fucking bitch! You fucking toilet!” He stopped pissing for a second and smacked her open-handed across the face and Trinh started gulping the foul liquid down. The camera was only about a foot from her face, it was getting a little urine splattered on it, the cameraman was getting a good close up shot of Trinh’s revulsion, of sour salty piss flooding her prissy little mouth, filling her up as she gulped it down. And then the man was aiming his cock at Trinh’s face, at her hair, soaking her pretty little head with his urine. He just kept pissing, more and more of it, dripping all over Trinh, running down her throat. Please stop, please make it stop, Trinh kept saying — praying — to herself, and she was still swallowing, still tasting the man’s pee, the stream was still powerful, she could feel it hitting the back of her throat as the man called her a urinal, a pissy whore, a little toilet bitch. At last he finished. A last few drops of acrid urine fell on to Trinh’s tongue, Dan slapped her face softly and then he got off of her body. “That was just a little appetizer for you, my sweet slut,” Ray said and left the room. Trinh tried not to wonder what he meant by the piss being just an appetizer, tried not to think about what was going to come next. From the kitchen Ray brought o

I want to start by saying that this is a true story to a point. I got scared and took off midway through but I am going to tell you how I imagined the rest of the night going. If you would like to respond let me know what you think. I had been getting in contact with Rod & Nick off and on for six months, getting to know them and such. One night I had decided that it was time that the three of us finally got together. The timing was perfect, my girl friend was gone for the weekend and I had a hard-on that could cut diamonds. I drove to a phone booth and called the guys with the anticipation that a child has at Christmas. There was no one home. I didn’t give up though; I called and left erotic messages every twenty minutes until 1:00 A.M. When Rod finally answered the phone. He was very excited and told me to come right over. I couldn’t drive fast enough. I met him at his door and he welcomed me in. We sat down and he told me that Nick has not here but would be back soon. Rod put in a porno and we sat down on the couch side-by-side. I have never been so nervous or scared, I couldn’t believe that this was actually going to happen to me. My dick felt like it was going to explode and we hadn’t even done anything yet! Without warning he undid my pants and reached through my underwear and for the first time in my life another man was grabbing my cock, and I loved it! He didn’t look at me; he just stared at my hammer as he stroked it. He was applying the perfect pressure, I was in heaven. I watched as he bent over and took me into his mouth. I took in a big gasp, as this was the best Blowjob I had even gotten. It felt like heated silk was being slid up and down my shaft. Because I was so excited I had to tell Rod to stop, I didn’t want to cum yet! He smiled at me and suggested that we get undressed, I whole-heartedly agreed and got naked as quickly as I could. This is when I noticed that both of our dicks were about six inches long; the only difference was that he wasn’t even hard yet! Here I was with the hardest boner of my life and he wasn’t even twitching yet! He told me that he had already been fucking once that night and that we were here to show me the ropes. This is when he bent over and started sucking me off again. I watched as the head of my six-inch cock disappeared into Rod’s warm, moist mouth. I watched as his lips moved up and down the under-side of my shaft. The sensation was the best and I knew that there was no going back. The moistness and the suction of Rod’s expert fellatio quickly brought me to the point of no return and I had to tell him to stop once again. I took a minute to get to get under control and when Rod saw that I was better he stood up and faced me while I was still sitting on the couch. I went to get up but he put his hands on my shoulders and told me to sit.pornI knew and wanted what was coming next. I reached out and took his cock in my hand. I was in Heaven, I couldn’t believe that I was actually going to suck on a cock! “Suck Me!” Rod said. At the same time he put his hands on the back of my head and pulled my to him. I looked up at him, with his dick only inches from my watering mouth and said “Thank you.” With this he pulled on my head again. I opened my mouth and I allowed his dick into my mouth. His soft cock was resting on my tongue and my lips were wrapped around him. I was actually staring to suck on another mans dick! I was sucking him and I could feel it starting to harden at my fellatio. I knew that this was what I was supposed to be doing. Rod started to slowly buck his hips, all the while keeping his hands on the back of my head. With each pump Rod pushed himself farther into my mouth until I had his whole eight inches in my mouth and throat. I was rolling my tongue all over his head and applying as much heat and moisture as I could. It occurred to me that all of the sucking and slurping noises weren’t coming from the porn movie but that they were coming from me and that made it even better! I thought that I was going to cum just by sucking this guy off! All of a sudden Rod pulled out of my mouth and I found myself chasing after him with my tongue hanging out. He told me to lay back and spread my legs. I laid back and put my ass on the edge of the sofa. He got onto his knees and reached for a condom out of the drawer. I asked Rod if he had anything and he said no. I asked him if he would go bareback. He said that he was surprised that I wanted it that way, but if I didn’t mind, neither did he. He had some Vaseline in the drawer and handed it to me. I grabbed a handful and covered his dick in the sticky goo. My head was spinning at what I was doing. I also took a bit of the jelly and put it onto my ring piece, just for more lube. He asked me if I was ready, I heard myself say yes and with that he grabbed my ankles and positioned himself at the tip of my asshole. “Here we go,” he said and I could feel his bulbous penis try and spread my ass apart. His cock won. I watched as his cock plowed its way into my ass! I was in awe of the feeling of having a real dick inside me. He pushed into me all the way with one smooth stroke. I looked between my legs to see a mound of pubic hair that wasn’t mine mashed up against me. “Are you sure this is your first time?” Rod asked me. I explained to him that this was my first dick in my ass but I have put other items up my ass. Things such as pens, markers, bananas, cucumbers and even the long thin part of a beer bottle. But let me tell you that nothing felt like having this mans penis in me to the hilt. He told me that he believed me and asked me how I felt. “Full,” I replied, and with that he started to pull back out of me. “Don’t take it out, please!” I said quickly. He told me to relax, and with that he plunged into me and I could feel his rigid flesh push the interior walls of my ass out of the way. Slowly he started to increase his tempo until he was moving at a steady pace. I was getting fucked in the ass and loving it, the squishing sounds of the Vaseline moving in and out of my ass was almost as good as the sound of Rod’s balls slapping on my ass! “Well, what have we here?” Startled, I looked over to see Nick with a wicked grin on his face. Rod pulled out of me and I deeply missed the feeling of him in me. “I see Michael called, and that you two have made yourselves comfortable, mind if I play too?” He didn’t even wait for an answer and started to take off his clothes. I was very shy all of a sudden, here I was with my legs high in the air with Vaseline smeared all over my ass, my hole stretched wide from Rod’s ass-fucking. Without any warning, Rod plunged back into me and Nick came over to me with his seven-inch jackhammer and told me to get him off. I eagerly took him into my mouth, right about the same time Rod started pounding my ass. I couldn’t believe hat this was actually happening to me. I had a cock in my ass giving me the first fuck of my life while I had a guy standing over top of me, cock in my mouth, and I was doing my best to make him cum! When Nick’s lovely dick was all the way into my mouth I opened my eyes to see uncut pubic hair crushed into my face. I had never been this happy, or sexually satisfied before for that matter. This went on for awhile when Rod suggested we get into a better position. They had me get on my hands and knees and with my ass sticking in his face Rod said to me ” I am going to finish what I started” and then he moved in behind me. Nick happily took his position in front of my face. I felt Rod spread my ass cheeks apart to expose my penis-parking garage and felt my tenant drive home. Once Rod was in me Nick smacked my cheeks with his face and told me to beg for the honour of tasting him. ” Please, oh please, let me suck you” I begged, I found that I really was begging for him, I really wanted it. “I need it, I lust your taste” “I’m your bitch, do what you want with me!” I guess that I am a good beggar because he grabbed my head and shoved himself home into my eagerly awaiting fuck-hole. I was getting fucked on both ends and the thought of how it must look made it all the much better. My body being pushed back and forth by the sex moves of two guys fucking me in both holes. The slurping and sucking sounds I was making, that coupled with the balls bouncing off of my chin, and the other set slopping against my own was too much for me and I could feel that familiar welling up of fire in my loins. The explosion I made was the most intense orgasm I have ever had. I shot six or seven hard streams of hot, gooey, sticky, cum all over the place.young wife and sister stories pornI didn’t think that it could get any better but Nick saw me cum, and that proved too much for him. He grabbed onto the back of my head and made sure that I wasn’t going anywhere. I could actually feel his delicious dick spasm once to bring the cum to the fore-front and then blast after blast of juicy, slightly salty, cum shot into the back of my greedy mouth. I tried to suck it all down but there was just too much, and some dribbled down my chin. I sucked him for a little while to longer to make sure that I got all of it from him. Watching all of this happen brought Rod over the edge and he slammed into me as hard as he could, getting every last pump into this virgin ass, and then I could feel his dick twitch in me and a warmth spread into me after each twitch. He let out a loud moan as he unloaded his semen into, jet after jet of hot cum fired into me, filling me, changing my life forever. He pumped a couple of more times, and then buried into me and kept it there. His luscious dick was quickly becoming to a plug to keep his love juices in me, and that is where I wanted them to stay. I had happily become these two men’s sperm bank. Rod took out his softening cork and Nick came behind me and started to suck Rod’s cum out of my ass. My hole was spread wide from Rod’s ass fucking and Nick’s probing tongue felt like it was touching my tonsils. This tongue fucking was so intense that I acme again, this time Rod was there to enjoy the fruits of my loins and to make sure that none of my now gay cum hit the floor. We all fell asleep together on the floor in each other’s arms, with the thoughts of a great new friendship on our minds. If you liked this story then please write me at comment If you are interested in me, I live in Eastern Canada, and I would be interested in a little bump and grind.

Another year, another Wimbledon, another semi-final … another match point. Tina had heard it said that history repeats itself, but this was surely pushing it. How could she have been so stupid…? She knew exactly how, of course. Ever since that fateful day this time last year, women’s tennis had changed beyond recognition. The photos in the next day’s papers had won her immediate condemnation from a bunch of people she did not care about, while also earning immediate super-celebrity status as one of the world’s leading sex symbols. The fact that she had ended up losing the match made no difference at all. The job offers came rolling in, though she politely declined all requests that she pose nude for men’s magazines, and her bank balance grew and grew…This fact was not lost on her fellow tennis starlets. At last year’s US Open, a succession of tiny microskirts made their way out on to the courts, and soon Tina found herself facing stiff competition. One girl, in particular, seemed to have hardly any inhibitions at all – her name was Laura Lessing and she had won the hearts and loins of millions of male admirers across the globe. She had first made news by wearing bright red French-cut panties under her short skirt, and though she received reprimands from numerous umpires she continued to wear similar underwear in tournament after tournament. Her skirts were generally not excessively minuscule, but they were made of such a light material that they flew up around her waist at the slightest breeze, and she was not quick to cover her modesty. She obviously adored the limelight.As did Tina, who found herself driven to further exhibitionistic acts on the court just so she could keep herself in the media spotlight. In the French Open, she had worn a skirt that only barely covered her buttocks, with lacy panties beneath. The skirt was made of a stiff material that would neither fly up nor ride up, but whenever she bent over she knew she was showing her panties to the crowds and the cameras.Her fan sites doubled in number, then trebled. Fan mail poured in, as did the contracts, and she carefully ignored the vicious backlash from conservative groups. The people she had intended to thrill were thrilled.For this year’s Wimbledon, she had prepared well. The stretchy skirt idea had been a good one, but it had been flawed. Now, however, she had ironed out the problems. A skirt had been designed and made for her specially – one that would ride up as she moved, but not too quickly. Unlike her night-club skirt of the previous year, this one would not end up around her waist. Indeed, even after the longest, most vigorous points, it would uncover no more than a centimetre of the lower curves of her buttocks. Thus she could be sexy, but safe in the knowledge that she was in control.The dress code for this Wimbledon had been re-written. With new money pouring into the game, big name sponsors had put pressure on the rules committee to allow the female players a little flexibility. In short, the players could wear skirts of any length as long as they covered the buttocks while the player was at rest and standing straight, and the underwear rules had been relaxed to permit any kind of underwear except thongs and g-strings. There had been fierce opposition to these changes, and a few resignations had occurred. But the changes had stuck.So, on the first day of the Wimbledon fortnight, Tina had strode on to the court wearing a semi-stretchy white miniskirt that covered her buttocks with almost an inch to spare, with a pair of pale blue French-cut panties underneath. The outfit had gone down a storm. Every day for the last week and a half, she had graced several pages of each and every tabloid in the country. She practically received a standing ovation every time she walked out on to the court.And today she faced Laura Lessing. Laura had received a similarly rapturous welcome on her first day, as she appeared on court wearing not only her trademark ‘flying’ skirt, but also a tight tank top through which the outline of her bra was clearly visible. The tabloids contained nearly as many photos of Laura as they did of Tina. In fact, over the last couple of days Tina had been incensed to discover herself almost marginalised by full-page spreads of Laura’s latest gimmick – a pair of French-cut panties that had been judiciously altered to turn them almost, but not quite, into a thong. And the committee did not object! This angered Tina. Laura was flouting the new rules and getting away with it!So last night, Tina had decided she was not going to be outdone in her own match. She had summoned her tailor (she never went anywhere without him these days), and given him the job of ‘editing’ her own panties. She showed him the picture of Laura’s bottom adorning the front page of The Quasar. “I want you to make mine even skimpier than that,” she said, “while still not being a thong.”Gerard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That … will be tricky,” he remarked. “But I’ll give it a try.”And so he had. The following morning, Tina was impressed with the result.“That will surely slip between my buttocks,” she observed critically.“It will, after a short while,” agreed Gerard. “But it’s not a thong – not quite. And I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of pulling it out of your arse every few points in front of the cameras.”Tina considered this, and a smile came to her lips. “Yes…” she said.“That will be fun.”But Martin, her manager, was outraged when he saw the garment. “You cannot wear that!” he exclaimed. “It’s hardly any bigger than the thong you wore last year! And just remember – you almost got banned from Wimbledon on account of that little stunt.”“It wasn’t a stunt!” objected Tina. “But that’s academic anyway. They’ve relaxed the rules since then, as well you know.”“But there are still rules,” Martin insisted. “And one of them is that thongs aren’t allowed.”“This isn’t a thong,” said Tina.“It virtually is. And when it’s bunched up between your butt cheeks, who’s going to know the difference?”“Who indeed?” Tina smiled wryly. “But I can easily prove to them that it isn’t.”Martin frowned, then turned on his heel and walked away.“He’ll get over it,” Gerard told her. “Now, about this top…”“Oh yes! Do you have it?”“It’s in your bag,” said the tailor. “Check it out – I think you’ll like it.”Tina hurried through to her room and placed the almost-thong on her bed next to her equipment bag. Opening the bag, she smiled as she spotted a white cut-off t-shirt folded neatly on the top. She smiled to herself.This was her latest gambit – exposure of the midriff. She pulled it out and held it up, giggling naughtily. Then she pulled out the miniskirt and sighed happily as she imagined the whole combination. This was going to be a good day. Finally she went through the rest of the equipment in the bag, making sure it was all present. She was not going to make the same mistake she had made this time last year!Placing her racquets in the bag first, she re-packed everything, leaving her clothing until last. She hesitated for a moment, then resisted the temptation to try the clothes on before packing them, too. She laid the panties and the skirt side by side on top of her track suit, then placed the t-shirt on top.“Tina?”She turned around at the sound of her manager’s voice. “Yes Martin?”“Waldo’s here – he wants to talk to you about tonight’s do.”Tina frowned. “Couldn’t he have phoned?”“He was in the hotel,” explained Martin. “Thought he’d ‘just drop by’ or something.”“Okay, I’m coming.” Tina stood up and went out to meet her agent.Waldo was a tall man with a thick crop of wild grey hair that always looked as if he’d been out in a strong wind. He had a habit of finishing every other sentence with “don’t you know” and his eyebrows bobbed up and down as he talked. Tina found him rather intimidating, but he was the best agent she’d had.“Ahem, well Tina, good morning and how do you do,” he pronounced sternly.“I’ve been chewing the old fat with the blokes at the press office and they happened to bring up the subject of interviews, don’t you know. So I thought to myself, as I am wont to do, ‘now here if I am not greatly mistaken is an opportunity old boy’ and …”Tina only half-listened, fascinated by his eyebrows, as Waldo trundled on through a terribly one-sided conversation at the end of which he paused, awaiting her response. She shook herself. “Ah, whatever you think is best, Waldo,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”“Most gratifying I am sure, well I’ll be tootling off now if you’ll pardon my flying visit – oh and I have another advertising contract I need to discuss with you, but it can wait until tonight, what? Or even tomorrow don’t you know. Toodle-pip.” And with that he swept out of the room.“We should be leaving,” said Martin, coming back into the room. “Are you ready?”“Sure,” said Tina. “Let me grab my bag.”She walked back into her bedroom and reached down to zip up her bag. Then she stopped. Something was not quite right. Her eyes narrowing, she slid her hand down the side of the bag and pulled out a white object that she had just glimpsed the corner of. It was a pair of conservative white panties.Annoyed, she flung them on to the floor. “Thought you’d try to convince me of the error of my ways, did you Martin?” she muttered.She said nothing to Martin as they left the hotel, and only in the car did she finally break her silence. “Honestly Martin,” she reprimanded him.“Sometimes you act just like my mother.”“Huh?” Martin looked puzzled.“The panties?”“Oh.” Martin flushed and responded defensively, “Well I’m sorry, but there are limits, you know.”“Just forget it,” said Tina.In the Centre Court changing rooms she met up with her arch-rival, and today’s opponent, Laura Lessing. “Hi,” said Tina rather coldly.“Hi Tina!” Laura gushed. “Wow, I’m so happy to be playing against you at last! You are my absolute hero, you know.”Tina was utterly disarmed, and found herself rather flustered. “Well, I…” she began. “Thank you! That’s nice of you to say so.”“I think it’s great what you’ve done for women’s tennis,” continued Laura.“You’ve possibly seen my, um … tributes … to your groundbreaking stunt last year…”“It wasn’t…” Tina began, before changing her mind. “Well, I guess I always figured you were trying to outdo me,” she said. “You must admit you’ve become rather popular yourself…”“I know!” Laura’s eyes were like saucers, as if she could barely comprehend the idea. “Isn’t it amazing? I mean, I’m nowhere near as pretty as you – I’m just overwhelmed at the attention I’ve got.”Tina chuckled. “Have you ever thought of, you know, toning it down a little?”Laura looked surprised. “Why, no,” she said. “Have you?” But she did not wait for a response before continuing in a conspiratorial whisper, “I just love to go a little further each time, you see. I know sooner or later I’ll get into trouble, but isn’t it amazing what they’ll let you get away with this year?”“Yes, it is,” agreed Tina. She sighed and began to undress. “Guess we’d better get into our skimpy outfits then.”Laura giggled. “Ooh yes,” she said.Tina pulled her t-shirt and skirt out of her bag, then stared into her bag in horror. Her heart plummeted into her shoes. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.“What is it?” asked Laura in alarm.“My panties! They’re not here!”“What? Are you sure?”Tina suddenly realised with a shock that Martin had not only placed a conservative pair of panties in her bag, he had removed the other pair at the same time! “I don’t believe it!” she said. “My manager’s taken them out!”“Can’t you wear what you’re wearing now?” inquired Laura. “As I understand it, that’s what you did last year.”“I’m not wearing underwear,” hissed Tina sharply.“Ah,” said Laura. “Oops.”“Hey, are you wearing panties?” asked Tina on a sudden thought.“Yes but…”“Great! Can I wear them?”“No! I’m wearing the ones I’ll be wearing on the court!”“Oh.” Tina was crestfallen. “Good grief, what a fix.”“What skirt have you got?” inquired Laura.Tina showed her.Laura nodded. “Ah yes, I know that one. It doesn’t ride up much, does it?”“Not much,” conceded Tina. “But enough, probably.”“Maybe not, if you’re careful. And won’t it be awesome? Think of it – the first woman to play tennis at a Grand Slam tournament without panties!” Tina groaned. “I suppose it’s possible I might get away with it,” she said. “But I’ll be giving you the advantage.”Laura waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense,” she said airily. “You’re the better player – you’ll have no problems.”Tina stared at Laura, perplexed. “What kind of pep-talk do you give yourself?” she inquired. “Are you expecting to lose?”“I don’t mind.” Laura shrugged. “I’m just out to play my best and have a good time. I don’t have any illusions.”Tina shook her head in great puzzlement, then sighed as she considered her position. Eventually she decided to bite the bullet, and changed into her miniskirt, sports bra and cut-off t-shirt. The latter item caught her by surprise – it was far tighter than she had imagined.Laura whistled. “Wow, sexy!” Tina chuckled. The top really was tight – it clung to every curve of her breasts and the bra beneath made highly visible ridges in its fabric. She decided she rather liked the effect.But then she noticed what Laura was wearing. She gasped. “Oh my goodness!” Laura had really pulled out all the stops, knowing she was up against the woman who had started the whole revolution in women’s tennis wear. Her light skirt had been drastically reduced in length – it barely covered her buttocks – and she was wearing a tight lycra crop-top that made Tina’s t-shirt seem almost conservative. “How do I look?” she asked.“You look … naked!” exclaimed Tina.Laura giggled. “Why thank you!” she said.The two girls donned their track suits and walked out to meet the crowd, to whistles and cheers and great applause. They lapped it up. Then Martin arrived.“Where have you been?” Tina hissed.“Getting a drink,” he said. “What’s up?”“What’s up??” Tina fought to control her anger. “Martin you idiot, I didn’t realise you’d taken my panties out of my bag!”“Huh?”“Those ones you put in there – I threw them away! Now I have nothing!” Martin gasped in shock. “Oh … my … God,” he managed at last.“Tell me about it. Now do you think you can go and get me some?”“Well, I’ll try,” he said, “but you know what the traffic’s like. Remember the last time?”“You don’t need to go all the way back to the hotel,” she told him. “Just find a clothes shop.”Martin nodded. “Okay,” he said, and hurried off.The sky was overcast as the two girls took off their track suits to rapturous applause. Cameras snapped in their hundreds. Tina had stomach butterflies as she began her warm up with a few serves from the right-hand side of the court. But her skirt stayed put (pretty much), and she made sure its hem stayed well below her buttocks. The breeze on her naked pussy made her feel terribly uneasy, but she forced herself not to think about it, and tried to concentrate on serving well.Meanwhile, Laura was getting all the attention. She was leaping high in every serve, her skirt flying up to reveal a pair of white silk panties that were almost as small as the ones Tina had been planning to wear. And they looked as if they were several sizes too small. Already the material at the back was creeping between her buttocks, and she made no attempt to rectify the situation. And she took her time about bending over (with straight legs) to pick up balls from the grass.Tina was a little relieved not to have all the cameras scrutinising her, but also rather annoyed that the crowd was watching Laura and not her.Nevertheless, she did not dare to let her skirt ride any higher than it was doing already, so she forced herself to ignore her opponent’s exhibitionistic antics and the crowd’s response.The match began. As expected, Tina’s skirt did not ride up much, and she began to relax a little. She was careful not to allow any point to go on for too long (sometimes this meant giving Laura the occasional point, but she could afford them), and gradually she began to feel that she was, after all, in control. After four games, the score was 3:1, and Tina was about to serve in the fifth when it began to rain.It was just a light drizzle, but after only a couple of points the grass was beginning to get slippery, and after a meaningful glance from Tina, the umpire ordered the covers to be brought out. Tina was relieved – it would buy her some time before Martin got back.But the covers were not on for long. Five minutes later the rain had ceased, and the players were cleared to resume the game. This they did, but this time Laura had the advantage. The damp grass caused them both to slip on several occasions, but whereas Laura took this in her stride, relishing the opportunity to flash her panties yet again, Tina could not afford to let her skirt ride up at all. So she played it safe, taking only small steps, while Laura capitalised on the opportunity to break serve for the first time.The drizzle began again in the next game, but stopped after only a couple of minutes. Tina was by now getting rather frustrated. She lost to Laura’s serve, then lost her own serve after that. Things were not going well. On the positive side, the rain was causing her t-shirt to cling even tighter to her chest, and the material was even easier to see through now that it was damp.Laura could not help but notice this as she came all the way up to the net to slam home a winning cross-court volley. She realised that her own crop top was not the type of garment to turn transparent in the rain, and she wished she had thought to wear a thin t-shirt like Tina’s. But perhaps there was something else she could do…At the beginning of the ninth game, with the score at 5:3 (to Laura), Tina bounced a ball in front of her, glancing occasionally at her opponent. She watched as Laura hopped from one foot to the other, bouncing on the spot, and then frowned. Laura seemed a little more … bouncy? than usual.And then she realised the startling truth: that her opponent had taken off her bra! Laura’s crop top was now bouncing under the influence of a pair of decidedly unfettered breasts (and Laura’s chest was fairly large for a tennis player).“Two can play at that game,” thought Tina to herself, and she clenched her teeth in a new resolve.Determined to pull herself back into the match, Tina began to take a few more risks. She managed to win her serve, but then had a nasty fright in Laura’s service game. While running at full-stretch to intercept an attempted pass, she slipped and abruptly did the splits (almost) on the damp grass. She squealed in horror and immediately closed her legs, pulling her skirt down to cover her neatly-trimmed pubic hair.There were one or two puzzled stares from the crowd, but the glimpse had been too brief for them to be sure about what they had seen. Tina could almost hear their comments: “Did you just see what I saw? Well, I’m not sure… it looked like she’s not wearing panties… Of course, I could be wrong…”She got to her feet, somewhat rattled, and returned to the baseline. The next couple of points went badly, and soon she found herself facing the wrong end of a set point. Biting her lip in anxiety, she was almost wrong-footed as the ball came hurtling down the court to her right-hand side. She launched herself towards it.Her foot slipped, and shot backwards. She sank to the floor as the ball whipped past her unmet. Her skirt had ridden up again and she hastily pulled it down as she got to her feet. Again, the whispers…“Game and first set to Miss Lessing,” announced the umpire.Tina sighed unhappily and prepared to serve. The lack of a bra certainly had not severely handicapped her opponent’s game. In fact, she seemed to have acquired a new confidence and was making very few errors. Still, her serve was not strong and could be beaten.By serving well, and taking some judicious risks, Tina succeeded in winning her service game. Smiling to herself as she sat down, she decided to up the stakes in the battle for the press’s attention. As surreptitiously as she could, she unclasped her bra and slipped it off, pulling it out through the left arm-hole of her t-shirt and dropping it into her bag. Immediately the damp t-shirt clung to her bare breasts, and with an involuntary shiver she realised she could just make out her nipples through the thin material. She was sure that the press cameras would also be able to see them.Without bra or panties, she walked out on to the court in just a cut-off t-shirt and a microskirt. Feeling naked and vulnerable but also rather aroused, she winked at Laura before her opponent served. The sensation of playing with no restraints on her breasts, however, was too unfamiliar and her return went wide. Laura’s next serve she pounded back into the net.Cursing to herself, she prepared to try again. She was annoyed with herself for having so much difficulty playing without a bra, when Laura seemed to be managing just fine.‘She probably practices without a bra all the time,’ she thought to herself suddenly. ‘Oh heck, what have I let myself in for?’ She lost that game, and then her own service game. Now 2:1 down, she watched as Laura prepared to serve once again. Her nineteen-year-old opponent’s crop top seemed a little skimpier somehow, and Tina frowned.What had the dratted girl done now? A brief rendezvous at the net in the next point answered her question.Laura had folded over part of her top, so that not only was it now more revealing, but it was also serving to keep her breasts in place more effectively. This was a clever plan, but it was risky – too much bouncing and Laura’s breasts would pop out from underneath the crop top. No doubt that added to the girl’s thrill.The drizzle began again, but not before Tina had broken serve, and then held on to her own serve, to bring the score to 3:2. As the two girls sat down in their respective places, the umpire leaned over to speak to Tina.“Miss Hathaway?” he said.Tina looked up guiltily. She folded her arms across her chest, convinced he was going to reprimand her for removing her bra. But she was mistaken.“How’s the court?” he asked. “I’m considering abandoning play, but it’s up to you two. Miss Lessing is happy to continue, so it’s your decision.”Tina thought for a moment. Martin was not back yet, but he surely would be soon. And she was beginning to play better now. Finally she was back in the lead, and she was becoming confident she could stay ahead until the end of this set. Furthermore, she was enjoying the way the drizzle was making her t-shirt more see-through every minute. “I’m okay for the moment,” she said. “It’s not that bad out there.”“Very well,” said the umpire, nodding.Tina took a swig from her water bottle, then got up and returned to the court.Two lost games later, she was regretting her decision. The drizzle had stopped, but the ground was still rather wet and slippery. She no longer felt she had an excuse for requesting that play be abandoned, and her t-shirt was not getting any more transparent. Facing what could possibly be her penultimate game of this tournament, she decided to go all out in her efforts to win the publicity battle. If she could not win the match, at least she could still steal the next day’s headlines from that upstart Laura.Carefully and deliberately, she poured the remaining contents of her water bottle over her chest, making sure she covered both breasts equally. The material quickly turned almost completely transparent, and despite herself she gasped at the sight of her breasts staring back at her. The wet t-shirt clung tightly to every contour and concealed nothing.Holding her head high (while trying not to meet anyone’s gaze), she marched out on to the court once again. Laura did the same, but then her jaw dropped as she saw Tina’s transformation. Tina saw her giggle and then hold up a thumb in admiring support.“Miss Hathaway…” came the umpire’s voice over the loudspeaker.Tina trotted over to speak to him.The umpire leaned over and said, “Enough is enough, Miss Hathaway. This is not a wet t-shirt contest, it is a tennis match. The new rules regarding the dress code are there to encourage freedom of expression, not indecent behaviour. Do you have another shirt?”“I’m afraid not,” confessed Tina.The umpire sighed. “And where is your bra?”“It broke,” Tina lied.“All right, but one more lewd act on your part and I will disqualify you and ban you from the tournament. The whole tone of this event has dropped through the floor, and I’m damned if I’m going to take it any more.”Tina nodded. “I understand.” Rather subdued, she returned to the court.The game went badly. Tina found her t-shirt highly distracting, and with every bounce it rode higher and higher and threatened to expose her breasts to the world. Soon it was revealing as much flesh as Laura’s crop top.Nevertheless, she liked the effect and did not attempt to replace it, until she heard a warning cough from the umpire. She hastily pulled it down.She lost that game, and prepared to serve to stay in the match. She served well, but a good return surprised her and she failed to clear the net with her follow-up shot. Then she noticed that her vigorous serve had resulted in her t-shirt being hoisted up high on her chest. Only a half-inch of material extended below the lower curve of her breasts. Rather reluctantly, she pulled the t-shirt down.The next few serves had similar effects, but a longer point almost resulted in her breasts popping free of the t-shirt entirely. She won two points, but also lost two.So now she was at match point, again, and this time her predicament was even worse. What could she do? If she preserved her modesty and lost, was that any better than going all out and perhaps being banned from the rest of the tournament? Probably not.She served, and at once felt her t-shirt climb up again. But she ignored it and concentrated on trying to predict where Laura’s return would end up.It was short – that was good. Tina raced forward and whipped the ball over to the far corner. But Laura, realising the danger, was already almost there. She hammered it back down the line, and Tina had to lunge to reach it. She made it, just, and the ball bounced high off her racquet – a mis-hit.Laura was quick to take advantage, her chest bouncing as she ran around the back of the ball. She attempted to fire it down the right-hand line, but Tina caught it at the net with a drop volley. However, it bounced harder off her racquet than she had intended, leaving Laura with an easy opportunity for a lob. Tina raced backwards, only to find to her horror that Laura was not going for the lob at all. She was responding with a drop shot of her own.Tina sprinted forwards, just reaching the ball in time. But as she dug her feet in to brake herself, they slid on the wet grass, shooting right under the net. Tina yelped as she fell to the ground and slid forwards on her back. Her skirt, caught by the net as she passed beneath it, was yanked up to her waist. Her t-shirt was pulled up by sheer friction, both on the ground and on the bottom of the net, until it was wrapped around her neck.At this point Tina came to an abrupt halt, with her head on one side of the net and her rather unclothed body on the other.The crowd fell into a stunned silence, then erupted in a cacophony of wolf-whistles, cheers and thunderous applause. The umpire’s announcement of “Game, set and match to Miss Lessing” went completely unheard. Laura, meanwhile, walked over to where Tina was lying with her pussy and breasts fully exposed to the crowd and to the world’s photographers. She looked down at Tina and smiled.“You win,” she said.THE END

A young Malay girl, Mei stood only 5′ 2″, weighed only 110 pounds, but had an exquisite figure. Her breasts were firm, nicely rounded and stood out from her well developed chest tipped with two tiny dark protruding nipples. Her public mound was very prominent but she had kept her pussy clean of hair, the multiple folds of her vagina lips centered with a barely visible clit.She was already experienced sexually, although only 18 years old. She was trim and had a well formed body due to swimming frequently. She had been happy and content until she had moved to the city, where she had been unable to get work. She didn’t know anyone and was soon destitute on the streets of the crowded city. Since she was very attractive, she decided to try picking up a “trick”. The man she picked up was a tall, but slightly overweight Arab who offered her a good price for a whole night. She was delighted and was determined to please the man and perhaps convince him to keep her for more nights.When she arrived in his hotel room, he had begun to beat her almost immediately. She cowered and took it as long as she could, but the man seemed obsessed. Finally she saw an opening and grabbed the knife out of his waistband, plunging it deep into his chest. Blood spurted everywhere as she stabbed him over and over again in her rage. When he finally lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood, she realized what she had done.She ran to his bathroom, washed the blood off herself, and dressed again. Fortunately no blood had gotten on her clothes. She stuck the knife in her bag and was about to leave when another Arab man stopped her at the door. He saw his friend lying dead on the floor in a pool of blood and shouted for the police, holding Mei in a tight grip until they came.The police had been sympathetic to her as they had similar problems with Arab tourists before, and she was clearly beaten, the whip marked all over her tender body. The Arab, however, had been an important businessman and his friend had requested that she be put to death as punishment. The judge, being somewhat sympathetic as well, had opted for imprisonment and sale to an exotic meat farm that he knew of, where she would at least have a chance to become a milker and last a little longer. Sadly, he knew that it was just postponing her fate, but it was better than nothing. If he sentenced her to execution by strangling, her body would be sold to a local butcher shop anyway.Now Mei stood in this strange holding area with several other Malay girls and a few American girls. The were all pretty, and their hands were all tied behind the girl’s naked bodies. A man was inspecting each of the girls and though she didn’t understand English, she could tell he was sorting the girls out for something. When he got to her, his strong but gentle hands caressed her body, feeling her muscles and breasts, and inserting a finger into her vagina, he then said something to his assistant and moved on to the next girl. She and another girl about her same size were taken to a large room that looked like a butcher shop. She was strung up hanging upside down from a crossbar by her ankles with a rope. No one said anything, and then just left them hanging there.Soon another girl was brought in, one of the tall American girls. First the men pushed hoses into the three girl’s asses and a small hose into their urethra and, turning on the water, flushed them out. She was so full of water at first that her belly began to expand and when she was full, they turned her right side up so that she could shit and piss on the floor. They then washed the girls all down and left them hanging except the pretty American girl. The men took her to one of the tables and strapped her down as one of the men fucked the girl’s mouth. Then the other man started forcing a long sharp pole through the American girl, her screams piercing and loud, until it emerged from her mouth, forcing blood and cum out of her. The girl was still alive, struggling and obvious crying in pain as they took her outside soon afterwards.Then they came back and strung the other Malay girl up tying her to a tall pole on a raised platform. They spread her legs and shaved her pussy and then began forcing a sharpened pole slowly up through her body. She screamed and screamed until they held the girl’s head back and the pole emerged out of her mouth. They cut her belly open and pulled her guts out, throwing them in a bucket and then they sewed her up again. She could no longer scream, but she was still alive and her body twisted and struggled as the men carried her out of the room, too.The men returned and hung her from the same platform and she knew she was going to be spitted by the long pole as well. First they spread her legs and shaved the little hair that she had over her vagina. The men then injected something into both of her breasts and she felt them begin to become more firm than normal and at the same time a numbing sensation came over her whole body. Apparently she had been given some kind of anesthetic although it was only a mild one. She could feel her belly being slit open and one of the men reached into her and as the huge spit began to move up into her anus, he grabbed her empty colon and guided the shaft up into her body. She could now feel the pain of being spitted by the pole and began to scream and twist from the pain. Calling out to them men, she cried, “Please kill me first. Don’t make me suffer. Oh God! It hurts so much!! I don’t want to die this way!” But the men could not understand her language and were not likely to change their minds anyway as they apparently had done this many times before. She could feel the spit moving up her body as it exited through her intestines and then the man forced it into her esophagus and she soon was silenced as the rod emerged from her mouth, blood spilling out of her at both ends.Mei continued to scream silently as the men lifted the two ends of the spit and carried her out of the building. She twisted and struggled, but her body was securely impaled by the 8′ long 3 1/2″ thick spitting pole. She was finally brought to a barbecue pit where she saw both the pretty American girl and the other Malay girl turning slowly, roasting over a fire, the fat already dripping from the American’s beautiful body as she cooked. The American was obviously now dead, but her friend was still twitching, and her lungs gasping, as the flames licked at the butter and sauces dripping from her body.Me could feel the tremendous heat as she was placed over the fire herself. With a last burst of energy, she struggled furiously, and vainly, as a man began to rub her body with butter. She could feel her breasts and buttocks begin to heat up as she turned slowly. “My God! It’s so hot!! And it hurts so much!!!!” she screamed to herself. ” I wish someone would kill me and spare me the pain! Just get it over with!!” The flames licked at her body as she continued to rotate on the spit and she was basted over and over by the cook, the only relief being the coolness of the butter as it was rubbed into her. She could feel her skin begin to tighten as she began to cook, and she could even smell herself roasting. It smelled so delicious, she almost wished she could taste her own meat. Finally her struggled ceased as her body began to roast and her internal organs were cooked from the steam inside her belly. She died as her body started to turn a delicious dark golden brown.The cook could see she had finally expired, and knew her meat would be fantastic, since the longer the girl lived while being cooked, the better her meat would taste. After she had cooked for almost four hours, he pierced her with a meat fork to test the doneness of her meat. her juices and liquefied fat spurted from the wound, so he knew she had cooked up juicy and tender. He then sliced a small piece of meat from the underside of one of her breasts, and another tiny morsel from her pretty butt. Popping the small, hot, pieces of girl meat into his mouth he said, “UMMMMMM! Absolutely delicious! This one is perfectly done. Let’s get her onto a serving platter.”Carefully, his assistant and he lifted Mei’s body from the fire and placed her gently on a large serving platter. They gently pulled the spit out of her, leaving her with her mouth wide open and a large hole where her asshole had been. She was so juicy, that a little meat stuck to the spit as it was removed. Her body was very hot and steam rose from it as they arranged her on her elbows and knees with the traditional apple in her mouth. She was then delivered to one of the large banquet tables. There the host of that table began to carve thin slices of Mei’s breasts, buttocks and thighs. Her well developed meaty back muscles and part of one her ribs were cut off and placed on another platter, where her rib steaks and her tender, finely marbled roasts were sliced into serving cuts of beautiful, juicy and slightly rare cuts of prime girl meat. The host cut open her belly and carefully extracted her heart, the organ still bubbling from the heat. He placed it on his own plate along with the meat cut from her vagina. He then sat down to a meal of one of the most delicious girls he had eaten in a long time. Everyone began slicing more of her meat off, gorging themselves on the sweet, juicy, flesh of Mei, soon reducing her to just a few scraps of meat on her well picked bones. One young man had cut off one of her calves and was contentedly eating the meat right off her shin bone.Mei was an excellent meal and very little was left of her at the end of the dinner.