The Photographer & the Glass Dildo

The men the photographer had mentioned arrive some forty-five minutes later. During that time, Francesca fixes her hair and make-up, eats a sandwich, brushes her teeth and texts Master to tell him the afternoon is going well.

Has Rob fucked you yet, Master wants to know.

No, Sir, Francesca replies. Only with a glass dildo. The flashback of what Rob did to her with the dildo makes blood rush into her cheeks until she feels like her face will catch on fire.

Have his friends arrived yet? Master wants to know.

Again, her answer is negative. She explains that she's just waiting and that they will be over soon.

Baby, Master writes in his last text, remember what we talked about. I want you to be a good girl and really do me proud today. I have promised Rob that his friends can use you in any way they want. I want you to honour that. I'll be counting on you.

Before she can reply that this is fine by her and she's looking forward to it, Master goes offline.

Rob comes into the bedroom to see if she's ready. 'How are you feeling?' he asks.

'I'm fine, thanks.' Francesca gives him a smile. 'I've just been chatting with Master. Well -- not so much chatting, as texting.'

Rob looks concerned. 'He's not changed his mind about today?' he asks with a frown. 'We're still okay to go ahead?'

She shrugs. 'Erm, yes, I think so. He's told me he wants me to do him proud.'

Rob's face positively glows with relief. 'Oh, good. I thought that maybe he changed his mind. Or you did.'

She shakes her head. 'No, I'm good. I've had a little rest.'

He gives her an encouraging smile. 'Let's get you ready for the boys. They'll be here any minute now.'

When 'the boys' arrive, she sees that they're not boys at all, but grown men at least in their 30s. There are four of them. One is the photographer's best friend, Michael, also a photographer himself. One is called Simon, a model from Northern Ireland -- he is the one she'll be doing the shoot with. The other two seem to just be coming along for the ride. One of them is massive, a six-foot four giant that probably weighs three times as much as Francesca. He has a shaved head and looks intimidating, and she avoids making too much eye contact with him. The last man, whose name she doesn't quite catch when he introduces himself, is quite non-descript and she can sense he'll have the smallest role to play in the proceedings.

'Right,' Rob says, taking charge of the next phase of the day. 'What we're going to do is have you pose with the lovely Simon over here who, despite his girly good looks, is not gay, I promise. Not that that matters much, but you are about to have his cock in your mouth, so you'd probably like to know where else it's been.'

She observes the man in question. He does really have an almost feminine beauty, with full, perfectly shaped lips which she can't guarantee haven't been enhanced with filler. But his muscles are very real, straining underneath a tight white t-shirt. Francesca feels a flush of desire go right through her body.

Rob sets up the photo shoot in the living room, in the centre of the big open-plan area. All around, on the seats of the two large sofas and littered over the floor are various photographic paraphernalia, old records, ashtrays and half-empty cigarette packets, cans of Red Bull and wrappers of Walkers crips, all clearly part of Rob's daily diet. Francesca tries to ignore the mess, although it bothers her. She's neat and clean and pedantic, and can't stand other people's bad habits. But she's not here to give them a lesson in housekeeping, so she tries to focus on the job in hand.

Rob instructs her where to stand and what to do. She is handcuffed, her wrists raised above her head, and Rob takes photos of Simon with his hands on her breasts or between her legs. Gradually, the poses become more daring. The men instruct her to remove her underwear and the photos start to involve Simon touching her naked sex, stroking her clitoris, eventually placing one finger inside her.

'Hey,' he laughs, showing his hand to the men. 'She's wet -- this is clearly labour of love for our little submissive.'

Francesca feels a little embarrassed to be so obviously aroused in front of and by these strangers. But what can she do? It's better than being indifferent, she thinks.

Slowly, the scene becomes more and more intimate. Rob gets her to bend over, and takes shots of Simon's fingers in her pussy, in her anus, spreading her cheeks so her rosebud entrance is fully exposed and perfectly caught on camera. He brings back the glass cock and shoots Simon pushing it into her, then licking between her pussy lips, then rimming her anus. Francesca starts to squirm. This is meant to be just a photoshoot but she's not far off an orgasm, if only they'd stop distracting her with the clicking of the camera.

The shoot seems to go on for ages and eventually Francesca's feet start to hurt from her high heeled shoes and she's starting to feel a little bored. Despite the stimulation, she's not had an orgasm and even her excitement is starting to wane from the repetition of the movements and the poses.

'Right, now, we need more guys,' says Rob and motions over to the other three men who, up until now, have only been watching.

Francesca notices that all of them have big erections, visible underneath their trousers.

'You've got to watch out for this one,' Rob says, pointing to the huge man with the shaved head. 'He's an animal. If I let him loose on you, nothing will be able to stop him until he's had enough and -- I can tell you -- he'll break you in two. And just so you know, crying won't help -- tears only turn him on even more.'

Francesca looks at the giant and laughs with a mixture of nerves and disbelief. Could he really be that bad? She's never met a man she couldn't handle. It's not like she's not used to a little rough treatment by her Master. Like many women who are sexually submissive, she revels in being manhandled. Nothing makes her feel more feminine than when she's being roughed up by some big guy, and it's going to take more than this bald friend of Rob's to scare her.

As if he can read her mind, Rob says: 'Just wait till you've seen his cock.'

The men come over and start to remove their clothes. Now their t-shirts are off, Francesca is able to appreciate the wide backs and nice biceps on all of them. One by one, they surround her until she feels like she's being circled by a pack a wolves, about to devour her.

'Right,' says Rob. 'This is what we're going to do.'

He instructs the men to pin Francesca to the wall, lift one of her legs and penetrate her; to open her pussy lips with greedy fingers so that he can get a clear shot of her beautiful, pink folds. To push her down on her knees and surround her with hard, throbbing cocks, which she takes into her mouth, first one by one, then two at the time, filling her mouth with penises of men she's never met before but is now sucking and licking until she can feel that they're just seconds away from cuming in her mouth. They pull her hair and choke her and spank her ass until there are red marks on her skin, and Rob takes close ups, all the time exclaiming how beautiful it all is. Francesca is excited again, full of adrenaline. Rough treatment wakes her up, focuses her in the moment. There's nothing else for her to think about, nothing else she needs to do. She just needs to surrender every thought and every part of her body to male desire, to male intention to use her and extract every last bit of pleasure out of her and for the men's benefit.

'I think it's time for my friends to show you what a proper fucking looks like, doll,' Rob says, smiling. 'Boys, take her into the bedroom.'

The big man grabs Francesca and throws her over his shoulder. She can't believe it -- what is this, some kind of Robin Hood film? A Western? Who actually carries a woman like this? She has legs and is perfectly able to walk, thank you very much. But before she can voice any of these objections, they're inside the bedroom and the man throws her on the bed, unceremoniously, and starts to remove the rest of his clothing.

The other men come in as well, followed by Rob, who says: 'Remember what I told you about tears -- no crying. You'll only make things worse.'

The big man, once fully naked, displays the single biggest cock Francesca has ever seen. It's not just his length, but the girth that's truly frightening. Even in porn, he'd be an oddity, a fluke. She'd never normally go for a man so well endowed, not that she's ever seen one like this in real life. Like many women, she prefers just normal, average-sized guys, especially as she herself is petite. Where is that thing even going to go, she asks herself but all thoughts disappear a moment later when the man mounts her and pushes his monster cock into her pussy.

'Ah!!' Francesca half cries out in pain, half laughs in shock. What is that thing? Jesus. It's like being fucked by a horse. To make matters worse, the man puts virtually all of his weight on her, not really supporting himself on his arms or elbows, but just lying on top of her body, thrusting wildly. She can't breathe, can't move an inch underneath him. He is crushing her. The man is thrusting like he's trying to split her in two and her pussy feels stretched to the point of breaking. She's never been owned like this. With every thrust, he slams into her body, pummelling her pussy like she's just a sex doll. Francesca's gasps are becoming louder and louder as the man gathers force and speed. Between two thrusts, she manages to say 'Okay, buddy, take it easy now,' but the man doesn't seem to hear her, or pay any attention. His enormous body weight is pressing down on her, on top of her stomach and breasts, her face is pressed against his chest and she can't even move her head to the side, completely immobilised by his strength and size.

Did Master have any idea what kind of beast he was giving her to?

The man carries on fucking her, growling loudly every time his hips smash between her legs. Francesca thinks that she won't be able to walk for two days after being fucked by him, and there were still three other men to go, and that's if Rob decided to pass.

The other men stand around the bed, watching, stroking their hard cocks which look ready to get some action. Occasionally they give words of encouragement to their mate, not that he needs any encouragement at all. Fuck her harder, says the model, those crude words sounding odd coming out his beautifully shaped, feminine mouth. Give it to her, bro, says the non-descript man, smash that pussy.

After some half an hour of this brutal violation, Francesca starts to understand why Rob had told her not to cry. She wants to enjoy it -- God knows, earlier in the night she was so excited, she very much wanted to enjoy the whole experience and reward the guys with her trademark spectacular multiple orgasms -- but this man is too much, even for her. She hurts, and is exhausted, and needs a break, but is so crushed by him and out of breath that even saying something or giving a signal is impossible. She starts to feel tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she clearly remembers Rob saying that crying would only turn the beast on even more.

Just as she's starting to wonder how on Earth she'll ever get out alive from under him, the man suddenly shudders and she feels his hot juices fill her pussy. For someone who fucked with such vigour, his orgasm is surprisingly non eventful.

He climbs off Francesca and gets off the bed, then gives his mates a high five. 'I think I've warmed her up nicely for you,' he says.

Rob and the men laugh. Rob goes out of the room and then comes back in, carrying the camera. 'You kids have fun,' he says, 'I'll just carry on shooting. Don't mind me.'

Francesca is so relieved to be freed from the big man that she starts laughing when the other three men approach her, but soon things turn serious. The men's cocks want attention and Francesca gives it to them. They surround her while she's lying down on the bed, holding their penises for her to lick and take between her lips. She sucks their balls, gently, and deepthroats each of them, gagging occasionally but not giving up. They all take turns to have sex with her and at one point she asks Rob for some lubricant as her skin is starting to burn from so much friction. But the sex is good, the men's erections are solid and long lasting. She holds eye contact with each man who fucks her, inviting him to do it harder, to go deeper. The men love this, her submissiveness to their desires drives them wild. They throw her over onto her stomach, grab her wrists and pin them behind her back, pushing her face into the pillow. They take turns to fuck her from behind, and show to one another just how wet she is. She comes once, her growls muffled by the pillow, then comes again when one of the men fucks her anally. She doesn't know who is doing what to her, she can't see them, she can only feel their bodies, strong muscular bodies now emanating that masculine smell of sweat and sex and cum that makes her feel like she wants to stay in this bedroom and fuck these four strangers forever.

One of the men leaves the room for a moment and comes back carrying a belt. She only find out when the belt lands on her left buttock with the sting that makes her cry out.

'I think it's time we show this doll what a good punishment looks like.'

The model-guy seems hesitant. 'Are you sure she said yes to that? I thought it was only to fuck her.'

Francesca can hear Rob's voice from somewhere in the corner of the room. 'No, don't worry, I've arranged it all with --' and he uses Francesca's Master's name, the name she hears so rarely, as she always simply thinks of him as Master.

The men take turns to belt her and Francesca is reminded how much she loves impact play. One of them produces handcuffs and a ball gag and the scene turns to real BDSM, like Francesca hasn't experienced for a very long time. She doesn't have any more orgasms as the sensation of pain is too strong but she starts to feel floaty, light like a feather. She thinks she must have turned into a cloud. There is nothing except the smell of male arousal and the sharp stings on her buttocks and the delicious soreness of her vagina which is being impaled again, and again, and again.

When the men are finally finished with her, she doesn't get up off the bed. Rob doesn't offer her any tea and cake, sensing her exhaustion.

'You've done so well, pet,' he says, stroking her hair. He pulls the covers over her and tells her to get some sleep. 'I'll go see the boys out and then I'll get onto editing the pics, you just get some rest. You've earned it.'

Feeling blissful, used, completely satisfied, Francesca closes her eyes. Sleep comes at once.