Jean, acting as mistress of ceremonies, said, "OK. Everybody sit on the couch." All four sat down, facing Susan, and the others looked to Jean to find out what she had planned. With everyone in place, she heaped the final humiliation on Susan, her words causing Susan to go rigid, her face a mask of desperation and dread. "Susan, you've been wonderful to all of us, giving us tremendous pleasure. Now, I think it's time that you gave yourself that same pleasure by setting yourself off. Show us how an attractive, sexy woman can make herself come."
As she said this, the other three witnesses leaned forward, suddenly revitalized at the thought of seeing Susan masturbating right in front of them. Cynthia was running the camcorder again, and she zoomed in to focus on Susan's horrified expression as she realized that she was going to have to perform that very private act in front of an audience. She had thought that she had been humiliated, mortified, before, but this was the worst of all.
By this time, however, her will to protest, even to refuse in the face of the threat to be spanked, was gone and she knew that she would do it. The feeling of shame at doing such a thing was more that she could accept with the almost stoic resignation, even dignity, that she had shown to this point. As she forced herself to move her trembling hand down her body, tears welled out of her eyes, this time running down her cheeks. Nonetheless, she continued, running her fingers through her pubic hair and beginning a light, teasing caressing of her clit. As she started, she had no expectation of feeling any real excitement, and assumed that she would play with herself for a while before faking an orgasm, but almost at once she felt a tingle run through her.
Her fingers reached further between her legs, and she was startled to find herself to be soaking wet. In actuality, her emotions had been mixed all night. On several occasions she had been aroused enough to use her hand on her clit as she sucked or licked, but never to achieve anything like an orgasm. That might have occurred except that her head interfered with her cunt -- the feeling of humiliation that dominated her thinking excited her, but, at the same time, prevented her from concentrating on her own sexual needs. There was not enough stimulation for her to lose herself, but the sexual urges had built up as she performed, and were now ready to surface.
She continued to caress her own cunt, becoming less and less conscious of her audience as she felt the electricity beginning to build. Hardly aware that she was doing it, she bent her knees and, spreading her legs, drew her feet up to her hips, permitting complete access to her fingers. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, she began to undulate, humping up and down and slightly rotating her hips as the excitement mounted. She wasn't thinking, just reacting to the long period of sexual arousal that had been dampened by her trepidation and qualms while she served the others. Now, like a pent up volcano, her restrained sexual tension was ready to let go. In fact, the liquid flowing out of her cunt, soaking into the rug, was like a preliminary lava flow anticipating the big event.
For the two couples watching, the scene was indescribably exciting. None of them had seen a woman masturbate before and they watched with unbelievable intensity, their eyes riveted to the area between Susan's legs. As her legs drew up and spread, they were treated to an almost clinical view of an aroused cunt, its outer-lips open, the inter-lips a deep red, and the hole, itself, dilated and ready for penetration. Lubrication was leaking out, running down the crevice of the cunt lips, puddling in the depression of the asshole, then dripping off onto the rug. They watched the slow up and down motions of Susan's hips as her excitement mounted, the motion becoming more pronounced and rapid, and the hips higher off of the floor. Her fingers became almost a blur as she rubbed her clit harder and harder, actually pulling on her pubic bone to put more pressure on it.
Her other hand went between her legs and she began finger-fucking herself. She probed her cunt, occasionally pulling out as her fingers slipped all the way down to her asshole and back. Finally, her hips came off the floor and stayed up, her back arched and her pelvis jerking in a motion simulating coitus. As the climax approached, only her feet and shoulder blades were in contact with the rug, her entire body surging up and down as both hand gripped her pubic area, applying even more intense pressure on her clit. Suddenly, with the abruptness of an explosion, she reached orgasm, her back arched at its highest point, her legs splayed open, her hands clutching herself, her hips making short, spastic jerking motions. Then, for a few seconds, she froze in place and, finished; she slumped to the floor, dazed.
The audience let out a collective deep breath, slumping back themselves, stunned by the erotic act they had just seen. Both men had cocks as stiff as fireplace pokers and probably would have loved to have jumped on Susan as she lay there. Any such thoughts, however, were dissipated as Jean said, "Gods, that was something! Good heavens, I think we'd better stop this for tonight. I'm sure Susan is finished and the rest of us had better relax too."
Cynthia, startled out of her trance- like staring at Susan's open cunt, quickly agreed and, suddenly realizing that she was still naked below the waist, blushed furiously, dropped her camera on the couch and, crouched over, scuttled out of the room. The others watched her leave, and, seeing her ample bottom bouncing as she ran, broke into uproarious laughter, cutting through the sexual tension still pervading the room. Then, before anything else could happen, Jean added, "I don't think that there's any need for Susan to dress -- she seems to be out anyway. Don, why don't you go out and warm up the car so she won't get cold on the way home and we'll just wrap her in a blanket." Don complied quickly, wanting to get Susan home for another reason, and hurried out of the house.
Susan lay there, comatose, totally unaware of what was going on around her in the room. Ten minutes or so later, Cynthia returned, somewhat hesitantly, just in time to see Jean stepping into her panties while John sat on the couch, studying Susan's nude body. There was an embarrassed silence as Jean pulled the panties up, seeming quite flustered as she did so. Before anything needed to be said to break that silence, Don came in announcing that the car was warm and ready. He came over to where Susan lay and said, "Boy, she's really out! That took a lot out of her. Do you have a blanket or something we can put around her?"
Cynthia immediately suggested, "Why don't you just wrap her in the sheepskin rug? It's nice and soft and certainly will keep her warm." Accepting her proposal, Don reached down to fold the rug over Susan, but paused, permitting all of them to have one more look at her. She lay there, legs open, cunt dripping, the very image of a sexually satisfied woman sunk into a deep, almost catatonic, sleep. Then, pulling the edges over her body, he lifted her off the floor and carried her to the car, laying her across the back seat. Cynthia brought Susan's skirt and blouse out and, after a strained but affectionate parting, Don drove home.
The short ride home was quiet, each lost in their own thoughts and reminiscences, not quite sure of what to say. When the got to the cabin, Don picked Susan up again and carried her in, although she was stirring by then. He put her on her feet in the living room and, still nude, except for her garter belt and hose, she staggered up the stairs, used the bathroom, and collapsed, again, on the bed. Downstairs, Don and Jean had a snack and talked for a time about the unbelievable evening, something they had never dreamed of with Cynthia and John, and speculated about the future with them. Obviously, things wouldn't be quite the same. They both were startled by Cynthia's surprisingly violent reaction to being licked as well as her seeming interest in Susan's body. Don also commented on John's unmistakable interest in Jean, especially the way he had scrutinized her cunt as Susan prepared to lick it. "I also noticed that you kept your legs open toward him afterwards, almost an invitation. Did he say or do anything afterwards?"
Jean looked startled at the question, not knowing quite how to reply. "I noticed that he really was looking at me, and I'm sure that he got a really good look while Susan was working on Cynthia. My skirt was up to my waist the entire time, and I knew that he could see my cunt. It was fun." She quickly changed the subject, without really answering, by adding, "I noticed that your cock was hard after Susan went off and I'll bet you're thinking of screwing before we go to bed. My cunt is a little sore after all that, but I'll bet you would rather fuck her anyway! She's sleepy, but I'm sure you could still get into her!"
Taking the bait, Don quickly finished eating and they went upstairs, to find Susan lying on the bed just as they had left her. Jean unfastened and removed her garter belt and pulled off her hose, leaving her completely naked. Don undressed, and, his cock rigid as it had been before, spread her legs and moved between them. She was half asleep, but, almost by reflex, brought her knees up and parted them, giving complete access to her cunt. Don moved forward and entered her, plunging all the way into her well-lubricated depths, and began screwing. For Susan, there was no particular excitement, no real sexual charge, just a pleasant feeling of being used. It was satisfying to just lie there, feeling his cock going in and out, her cunt being a receptacle, performing a service as a real sex slave should.
Susan woke up the following morning, feeling well rested and very good. She looked up out of the large window at the immense green pine tree and the crystal blue sky peeking through it, thinking, "What a beautiful day!" Suddenly, like an avalanche, memory of last night pushed that thought aside and she let out a moan of despair. She had a graphic image of herself, kneeling down, sucking and licking -- and them, worst of all, lying down playing with herself. Jean, downstairs, had been listening for her to waken and hurried up to see how she was going to react. She found her lying on the bed, hands over her face, saying, "Oh, my god, oh, my god!" Jean hurried to the bed and sat down, taking Susan's hand, saying, "It's all right, honey! Everything's all right. Don't worry!"
Susan raised up, putting her head against Jean's breast, crying piteously, "Oh, Jean, how did I do those things? Why did you make me? I'm so embarrassed.....how can I ever face any of you again? What must Cynthia and John think of me?" Jean hugged her close, and replied, "Don't be silly, sweetheart, we think you're wonderful. I've already talked to Cynthia and she's embarrassed, but she admitted that she loved every minute of it and she thinks that you are fantastic! You looked beautiful, very sexy, and all four of us loved you as well as what you did!"
Susan was shocked out of her misery, asking, "Do you really mean that, Jean? I thought I must have looked like a..a whore! Doing all those things, playing with myself in front of everyone!" Then hopefully, "Did...did they really like it?"
"Of course they did, silly, who wouldn't like a lovely young woman, a lovely young slave girl, perform sexually on them and herself? It was fascinating to watch you! I did feel a little bad about forcing you to do things that I knew would embarrass you, but I was pretty sure you secretly would like it -- particularly thinking about it afterwards. Was I wrong?"
