Julie awoke the next morning with a slight hangover. She moved gingerly in the bed. As the morning sun began to stream into the bedroom, she tried to reconstruct the previous night's events.
She had no idea what time she had gotten home. Certainly it was in the wee hours of the morning. She did know that she had not been that intoxicated in many years. All she remembered was that when she arrived home, her husband was nowhere to be found, but he had left a note with accusations of infidelity and adultery.
Julie, who was exhausted and drunk and feeling the humiliation from her treatment at the yacht club, had tearfully read the note and then fallen asleep, exhausted from the day's events.
Now, in the morning light, Julie found herself still clutching the note in her hand. Her blue eyes opened and saw the contents of her husband's drawers emptied. She realized that he had completely moved his clothing out of the house.
She read the note, once again. It said that he had gone by her office and spoken to people there about her unexplained absence. It also said that he had spoken to Jackson who told him of Jackson's own intuition that Julie was involved in an extra-marital affair, although he did not know with whom. He had counseled the young husband that he should consider ending the marriage and consider himself lucky that there were no children involved. Her husband said that Jackson asked him to keep this to himself and not tell her that it had been heard from him.
Reading about Jackson's betrayal of her as well as his moralizing, especially given what she knew about him, filled Julie with a rage she had never felt before.
She shifted in her bed. It was then that she realized that she still wore clothes from the night before. Much to her humiliation, she wasn't even wearing a bra or panties! She had no idea where her clothing had gone, but she was, even now, only wearing a skimpy, very short, thin cotton skirt that was not much longer than the little cheerleading skirt she so proudly wore in college. It really only just covered the round flair of her butt. Up top, she had on an old, tattered and thread-bare t-shirt that reached just below her tits and left her flat stomach exposed. Her large chest was too big for it and her pink nipples poked up as if trying to fight through the cloth. Inexplicably, she wondered whether the skimpy cloths were from another young woman who had been used by these awful men and then discarded, naked into the night. The t-shirt and skirt were obviously just old clothes that had been on the boat for years and were not part of a set. Not a shred of underwear! Her mind went back to the hazy memories of her wanton behavior last night.
She didn't even drive her car home, did she? At that point, she knew that she was indeed lucky that her husband was not home when she arrived. Could the memories that she had of what happened that night be correct? Even as she tried to not think about it, the memories became clear.
The recollection of her being passed from man to man as each satisfied his wanton lust on her naked flesh and within her mouth and vagina caused the young blonde professional woman to reflect that perhaps her husband was right. As she shook her lovely head in shame, she doubted that he could possibly know the full extent of what had happened to her over these many months. Why had she accepted her fate last night, she wondered? Had it been out of her control, as she so wanted to believe, or was she simply acquiescing in what she had become – the most shameless slut, a wanton whore?
She tried to tell herself that her situation was hopeless last night and that she had been completely helpless. She didn't know if that was true, but she tried to convince herself nonetheless. What else could she have done in such an intoxicated state with no way back to shore, she wondered? But when she thought back to the final hours of being at the dock, lying naked on her back on a soiled bed, spreading her thighs for men to put their hard cocks into her little pussy, she turned her face to her pillow to hide her humiliation. How many men had taken her that way? Who were they?
"Oh my gosh," she thought, "that was just a few hours ago!" She shook her blonde head in disbelief.
Julie remembered the helpless feeling of humiliation on the yacht. Her mind wondered how she could get the cruel, intoxicated men to let her off the boat. She truly believed that her only bargaining chip was her beautiful, young body, but even then, when would she be let off? Even slightly drunk, her mind schemed to get them to let her go.
*****
Julie knelt before the large man on the floor of the yacht's bedroom. His stiff cock was in her mouth and she bobbed her beautiful face rhythmically on his tool. She was tired and horribly shocked at her own behavior and yet here she was, kneeling submissively before the stranger, suckling his hard shaft.
The huge throbbing cock filled her mouth. Needing a deep breath, Julie pulled off of the hard penis and looked at it closely for the first time. Julie grasped it in her hand and felt it jerk involuntarily. What otherwise could have been an instrument of love, she recognized as a menacing, pulsating, fleshy object of subjugation. Humiliated, she felt reconciled to having to continue her sucking. She looked up at the man who was leaning against the bed. His cold eyes staring nearly lifelessly at her caused her to quickly avert her gaze.
She had lost track of how long she had been blowing the man, but his heavier breathing indicated that he was nearing climax. Julie cupped the heavy sac beneath his shaft and continued to bob back and forth on the instrument.
The bedroom door opened and the dimly lit room was momentarily lit up. Then the door shut. Julie had no idea who had entered. A delay would only extend her misery, so she sped up the rhythm of her head.
The man above her put both hands on her head and spoke. "Pull your head off, baby," he directed.
Julie paused her sucking of his penis. What did he want her to do? She began the fellatio again. She heard the man who entered chuckle. The sound of his laugh almost made her cry. These men were so abusive! She quickly changed her thoughts.
The man she was sucking off put a hand on his cock, between her face and his body, and she realized that he did want her to pull off. His other hand held her head by her thick, blonde hair.
Julie let the rock-hard cock slip from her lips as the man pumped his cock with his fist. She looked innocently at the man's cock, only inches from her face. Before she could even realize what he was doing, the first thick gob of cum exploded from his cock struck her nose and lip!
