Synopsis: When two beautiful roommates explore the wild side of life, they meet with unexpected consequences. Kymber gets swept away by Michael, an older man who sees her as a challenge to control. She turns into his sex slave and the training is brutal.
The arrogant Cindy, a human Barbie doll, meets her match in Patrick. He makes Cindy debase herself in a place where she is the queen, turning her into a slut.
*
He told me I was to be pierced that afternoon. I was carefully licking his balls and in no position to respond. A little tug on the chain clipped to my neck was a signal to snake my finger into his asshole. I got it right, because his dick got very hard and he rammed it down my throat. Cum hurled like a storm surge into my stomach. He held onto my head tightly while I shuddered and gasped for air. I quickly lapped some precious drops that escaped and dribbled down my chin. He allowed me to relax between his thighs.
I wasn't very good at giving blow jobs. In fact, it was my albatross. Sir decided that frequent drilling would sharpen my skills. Any hesitation in decoding the subtle movements and tugs would incur a swift correction. Needless to say, he beat me frequently with the riding crop.
"Pay attention!" he'd say icily.
He forced my mouth to mold to him and filled my nose with his smell. When I opened my throat, he would drive deep into me, putting me at his mercy while I was at my most defenseless and vulnerable position. I had little choice but to keep trying. Yeah, I did get better at it. One late, rainy afternoon, as I looked up at him in a haze of pain and tears, I felt proof of my own power in the shuddering strength of his orgasms. I became the proud receptacle of his bodily fluids.
As he lay spent and stroked my head, he said, "Kymber, it's time to go. Slip into your heels and bring me your leash."
"Yes, Sir," I replied and scampered off.
I'd been jerking off to the Story of O and porn since I was a twelve-year old babysitter. I never thought those early beginnings of reading erotica would bring me to this point.
~Sunday Afternoon, three weeks earlier~
The familiar smell of Coppertone wafted to my nose. Cindy was energetically rubbing lotion on her golden arms. Her long, straight, flaxen hair was pulled up in a ponytail. She peered at me over her Jackie O sunglasses while I hid under my baseball cap and pretended to be incoherent.
"You look rode hard and hung up wet," she grinned.
Her mile high legs gleamed in the sunlight. I pictured myself skewered by HIS thick, pointed lance, squirming and screaming through the ball gag.
"Kymber?"
The plastic cap squeaked as she screwed it on the bottle.
Cindy shook my shoulder and I twisted ever so slightly to look at her and said dreamily, "Did you say something?"
Her luscious, thick lips were wrapped around a cigarette as she talked out of the side of her mouth. She opened a bag of carrots, flipped off the top of the onion dip, dunked, crunched, and created a cacophony. I wondered how she could balance all those activities at the same time and still be annoying.
"So,,,what happened to you?" she asked nibbling like a rabbit.
"Pass them over, I'm starving."
With a crispy carrot lodged between her choppers, she passed me the bag and flashed her big, pearly whites. As I scrambled for an explanation, I suddenly recalled Cindy's trembling figure from the night before,
"You left the whole bar gawking," I hissed. "What happened?"
Cindy wrinkled her nose and glanced away. Silence was her answer.
Cindy loved to regale me with the wild and wacky escapades of the Saturday Night with Cindy Show. Tears welled up in my eyes from laughing. You couldn't shut the girl up to catch your breath, as she told animated tales about her victims.
For example, one particular evening, I witnessed her brutal emasculation of a puffed up Ginzo who wanted to take her home. His mistake was a lame pick up line and gaudy, gold chains on his fat, stubby neck.
With a cigarette hanging out of the side of her mouth, she repeated his comment loudly, "Shut my mouth?"
As she whipped her hair to one side, she stood in his face and stared him down with her blazing, blue eyes.
"The only time I shut my mouth is when there's a big dick in it. Do you have a big dick? Huh? Or are you just a dick?"
She thundered as if she were a Cleveland steelworker. The poor worm took his shrunken balls and crawled back into his hole.
Cindy glanced around the pool, "Let's hop in and I'll give you the short version."
A walking wet dream with a well stacked rack, Cindy parted a crowd like Moses parted the Red Sea. Her polar opposite, I was petite with long legs and a curvy butt. As Cindy straightened up and jumped into the tepid water, her bikini bottom revealed raised, thin, red welts. We swam together like shapely dolphins to the shady side of the pool.
"I was playing a game with Patrick," she said as she gasped for air.
"You really should stop smoking. You can't swim across this tiny pool without running out of breath." I nagged.
"It's not the smoking. My jaws are too sore to open and my nose is stopped up," she complained.
"Yeah, right!" was my usual comment.
Cindy noticed the black and blue marks on my shoulders and took a closer look at the bags under my eyes.
"Hey, you are holding out on me!" she squawked.
I flashed a secretive smile and fingered the welts across her ass. She twisted away from me.
We always played this cat and mouse game of telling. I admired Cindy for her self confidence and ballsy demeanor. She oozed sex like a neon light in her charming gum chewing, lip smacking way. She was much better at telling stories than I, but, I got a rise out of her for holding back. This made her madly curious and I teased her. Cindy was shameless, like a puppy looking for a bone, snapping furiously, tugging away, and using all the wiles at her disposal to wheedle the truth out of me.
One time, we compared notes on oral sex. Although we both found giving blowjobs distasteful, Cindy had figured out how to give a bad one. Some guys might ask, is there is a bad blow job? She reasoned if you gave a bad blow job, they would throw you on the ground and fuck you really hard until they blew their nut. It sounded logical to me. I shared nightmares of my pouty, bow shaped lips being violated by long, thick, heavily veined dicks. Cindy calmed my nerves by using a banana to demonstrate the technique.
