East Coast Slavers Organization

East Coast Slavers Organization – I: A Caribbean Adventure

Chapter 28 – The Fraternity Party (or Connie Helps Out the College Girls)

The beach house rented by the fraternity was one of the modern, two-story ones built in a trendy area of the island. It featured a private beach and was well secluded from its neighbors. The home was a good choice for a bunch of guys who might get too rowdy during their parties. Connie pulled her two leashed charges out of the car and none too gently yanked them into position behind her. "Stay cunts," she commanded.

Rochelle and Sophia got out of the car and clustered around Michael. "Alright girls, time to flip to see who will play the callgirl and who will be the business manager. Their treasurer is gonna pay you five thousand in cash for three girls. Who will be the third one?"

"Connie," Rochelle called out with a grin, "are you a betting girl? How about getting into this action?"

Connie mutely shook her head in the negative and thought, "No way, girls. I am not the hooker here. Despite the five thousand dollars, this deal smacks of hard-core prostitution."

Sophia pouted and said, "Hey, it's for our tuition, room, and board money this upcoming fall and spring semester. That's the only reason for doing this. Besides, Michael says it's our last gig. You know how he is, once he makes up his mind, its done.

Each of the college girls wore a lightweight summer sports jacket; open over identical outfits. With miniskirts and tube tops, they were dressed for a beach party. The jackets lent a modicum of modesty to a party-girl look. Michael pulled a coin out of his pocket and flipped it up into the air. "Since Connie won't play; one of you two call it heads or tails."

The girls quickly looked at each other and Sophia called out, "Heads."

The coin landed on the crushed shell driveway and it was clearly tails. Sophia slipped off her jacket and threw it into Connie's car along with her purse. Rochelle smiled and clapped her hands, "Girls! Showtime." She turned and slid her arm behind Michael's and the two of them headed through the gathering dusk toward the house.

Michael knocked and a tall, good-looking kid opened the door. He grinned at Rochelle and said, "Wow! Come on in and we can make our final arrangements."

Connie and Sophia remained at the car along with the two miserable prisoners. Sophia silently took Rosella's chain and sat down sideways on the car's back seat. Rosella was forced to shuffle forward to follow the lead chain as Sophia took up the slack. When the miserable blonde stood between her widely stretched legs, Sophia pulled down hard. Rosella fell to the sharp gravel, her voluminous dress the only protection to her knees. "I'm bored, cunt. Help me get excited and ready for the party."

Rosella's knees ached from having most of her body weight slammed down onto the crushed seashell gravel. As an experienced prostitute, she was no stranger to oral sex; the loss of control and the humiliation made her present situation horrible. The next tug pulling her into the blonde's pussy was inevitable. The twin burns between her breasts still ached in enough of a reminder of what failure might portent with punishment. She muttered to herself, "You bitch! I'll get even with you." Outwardly, she exuded cooperation as her tongue slipped through her hideously outstretched jaws and quested around the woman's outer pussy lips.

Connie looked on aghast as the young woman grabbed Rosella's head and ground it around her groin. Sophia looked up and grinned. "You ought to take some revenge before these two get so fucked out tonight that you can't get a reaction anymore. Besides, nothing like a little tongue action to get you in a better mood."

Connie thought, "What the hell," and seated herself sideways in the front passenger seat. The open doors shielded her from direct view of the house or Sophia. Connie tugged her prisoner forward and Carolyn shuffled up with much more reluctance than Rosella. Eager now, Connie pulled the captive forward and down. Carolyn actually fell to the ground and toppled into Connie's bare pussy in one out of balance movement. The panting woman's hot breath across her pussy heated up the sexy real estate agent. She decided to match Sophia's technique and grabbed a set of ears and viciously dragged the woman's gapping maw around her cunt. "Lick hard, bitch, or I will show these frat boys what a whore's punishment session is like." Connie had no personal concept of what such a session entailed; she only made the threat because it sounded right.

Inside the house, the frat treasurer grinned weakly and introduced himself as 'John.' John, despite his youth, knew enough to review the terms of the arrangement before he paid up in cash. "I contracted with a Rosella for three party girls. She said she had three hot chicks we could have free use of from nine o'clock tonight until four in the morning tomorrow. Is that right?"

Rochelle walked up and gave him a deep kiss. "Honey, for five thousand in cash, that's what you will get. My girls are outside waiting now. Since you have forty horny college kids here I decided to bring my bodyguard," she nodded over at Michael, "and another girlfriend to just look over things. You get three girls and three protectors who will stay out of the way of your party; but, we'll be here to keep everyone safe."

John grinned and said, "Girl if your friend is as cute as you, then we get two good looking chicks at the party for free. You can have as much food and drink as you please. Maybe you'll get feeling good and jump in for free."

Rochelle smiled and grabbed his arm, "Give me a tour while I explain my idea for your party. It will blow your mind. Then, you can meet the girls for final approval before you pay me my money." Rochelle drifted off into the empty house. John told them that the guys were out on a chartered fishing trip and due back at about nine o'clock that evening. That gave John an hour to get the girls ready and start up the barbeque for the party's dinner. Michael wandered over to the bar and noted the full compliment of booze and beer. The kitchen was heaped with trays of food and through the living room window, he saw that a bonfire was already prepared on the outskirts of the beach below. "These guys really have some money," he thought. "Time to get the bitches inside."

John's eyes lit up when he saw the two blondes enter the house. Sophia and Connie looked great. His face then reflected some shock when he saw the dowdy clothes covering the next two women. Rochelle had warned him already that two of the girls partying tonight were kinky and liked being forced to participate. John told her that was fine; a lot of guys just wanted to get their rocks off and then go back to the party. He thought Sophia's ideas for the night were perfect. His only concern was that only one girl would be free to wander among the forty guys partying.

Michael led the two cowed prisoners back to the bedrooms while Sophia made the introductions between John, Rochelle, and Connie. Michael found what he was looking for in the first bedroom; a large overstuffed chair. He tied off Rosella's leash to a doorknob while he prepared Carolyn. Michael had decided to severely restrain both women so that the guys could have free rein fucking away at any of their three holes without protest.

Carolyn stood passively, mostly in shock, as the rugged brute tied off the other woman's leash. She cringed as he approached her and leaned down to grasp the hem of her tent-like dress. Hoooo," she moaned. "Hop it. Horry, … horry, … horry," she continued to beg in an ever more quiet voice. Her plight was awful and she truly wished that it had turned out different. The dress caught momentarily on her boobies and she felt them jostle up and then down before the room's cool air wafted across her naked body. The man pinched both her nipples and taunted her by saying, "You threatened me with charges of rape. In your case, the punishment will fit the crime. Tonight you will get more sex than you ever dreamed a woman could get in a lifetime of conniving and cheating. Enjoy because you will probably see a lot of use like this in the next few years."

"Nooo!" she wailed inwardly. "I just wanted revenge on that tight-assed bitch Connie. Who will help me now?" Her thoughts were interrupted as her belly thumped hard against the chair. The sensitive skin on her tummy was irritated by the rough comforter he had thrown over the chair to protect its covering. The cruel man fumbled with her ankles and suddenly one leg was pulled over and she thought maybe it was tied off to the chair leg. When her other leg was pulled out toward the other side of the chair, she knew she was being tied open and available. "Oh, my God! Maybe there is really going to be a gangbang here tonight?" While she had fully realized he was going to punish her, she had still hoped that tomorrow would bring her apology and then freedom. It was sinking in that maybe she would never get out of this predicament.

Again, her self-musings were interrupted when he yanked her back upright to snake a rope across her back and under her arms. The sliding nylon rope burned her armpits and she cried in pain from the abuse. Then the rope pulled her forward again and her body was forced to lean far forward over the chair. This time, she could see what he was doing as the ropes were fed down between the cushions and through the chair's springs. After the rope was tied off he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her face up, his groin was only inches from her drooling, gaping mouth. She heard him grunt in approval and her head was released to slump back down. Her long blonde hair covered her face in an unruly mess. The chair and her tightly bound form shifted positions and now she could only see the bed and the back wall of the room. Her cunt and ass were now aimed directly at the bedroom entry. She felt his hands fumble around with her ass and she prepared herself for rape.

Michael busied himself with a few final touches around the room. He pulled a nightstand over beside the sofa from beside the bed and heaped it with eight dozen lubricated latex condoms. He took a black permanent marker from his pocket and studied the white canvas of her trim ass. Across the small of her back, he penned 'No Holes Barred' and followed up with 'My Name is Cunt' on one luscious ass cheek and No Flowers Please' on the other. Michael saw a decorative vase in the bathroom and set it down on the nightstand with embroidered it with "Tips Please.' He surveyed the text on her trim ass and admired her hairless pussy peeking back at him before delivering a stinging slap hard onto each delicious cheek. As he turned back into the hall, he heard her begin sobbing. With such a poetic outcome to her threats and bitchiness, he had proven once again that justice can be poetic.

Carolyn heard the other woman's chain leash clatter off the doorknob and they left her alone. Carolyn pondered her fate in misery.

Rosella was led down toward the next bedroom. She had stoically watched while the powerful man had prepared the blonde. Even she had to admit that the girl made a mouth-watering decoration. The writing was especially humiliating. She guessed that she would be displayed identically in the next bedroom. The man tugged again and she hobbled after as best she could.

Michael decided to change the scene in this room and he felt that Rosella deserved something a little less comfortable. He threw the woman onto the bed, back down, and his bag of toys thumped down beside her. Rosella's arms were unclipped from her waist belt, one by one, and tied off loosely to the bed's headboard. Michael laid a long nylon strap across her hips and then unhobbled her ankles, each to be drawn up to its matching elbow. The result was a severely bent over whore ready for fucking. He drew her ass to the extreme foot of the bed and ran the strap under the bed. Once tightened, her ass sunk inches into the mattress; but, still completely available for sex in either orifice. As a last touch, Michael drew the woman up by the shoulders and slid a pillow under them, letting her face fall limply back onto the mattress. After tightening the ropes holding her arms, there was plenty of room between mouth and headboard for a kneeling fraternity boy to comfortably face fuck her mouth.

Within the bag of toys purchased by the girls were several gag items that he thought might work on Rosella Koch. Michael picked up the tube marked Vaginal Itching Cream. Its ingredients included a sexual lubricant and a mild irritant. Michael wasn't sure it would have any effect, but decided to try it out. He ran his hand over the smoothly shaved pussy and jammed the open tube deeply into her cunt before squeezing half inside. There was sufficient overflow to dip the nozzle in and then slide it into the tighter rectum.

Rosella could hardly breath from the horridly bent over position she was in. She struggled to raise her head to see what was happening. Her poor defenseless pussy was open to the room just inches away from her nose. She saw a tube of something rudely jammed into her cunny. It hurt something terrible before the cream he pumped in soothed away some of the pain. His next move started out as pleasure and then changed to horror. The tip of the tube rubbed around her open pussy lips, encouraging extra blood flow and stimulation. Then the tip dipped down to her anus and plunged in. Her head thumped down below her shoulders to the mattress. She now looked directly at the headboard.

The still form of the hideously bend over woman beckoned him forward. It was time to leave her messages to the frat boys. This time he prepared himself to write on the backs of her thighs as they pointed straight up toward the ceiling. He started with "I like it Hard!" on leg and then carefully formed 'Call Me Whore." Lastly, he wrote in an arch across both her exposed ass cheeks, 'My Ass is Tightest.'

Michael dipped his hands into the bag for another of the toys, the massive black dildo that hopefully was meant as a joke. It was still filthy from breaking in Carolyn White for tonight's party. Michael nestled the apple-sized head of the eighteen-inch long giant cock around the slippery lips of her pussy and pushed hard. The black dildo sunk smoothly into her hairless pussy. Michael felt the ribs on the fake cock vibrate as they forced their way past the tautly stretched pussy lips and then it bottomed out. Without pause, Michael began a blurringly fast fucking motion with the fake cock. Within three minutes, he had fucked her with hundreds of deep strokes and his arms began to ache from the workout. Sweat dripped down onto her squirming fuck mound as he pulled it out and aimed at the shiny brown grommet of her ass. The anal ring resisted the entry of the massive cock head, forcing Michael to lean down with all his weight and drive it deep into her narrowest passage. She howled below him as the gigantic dick tore into her bowels. It was forced deeper inside the intestinal tract than her pussy had accepted. At least fourteen inches of black, ribbed cock opened her up to the size of a coke can. He pistoned it up and down, nearly as fast as he had raped her much more resilient cunt. Michael grinned at the her obviously pained response and kept on brutally fucking away. Finally, he pulled out the cock and stepped back. Her wide-open asshole pointed up like a red cavern.

As a rental unit, each of the two guest rooms were furnished nearly identically. Thus, it was easy to draw the nightstand toward the foot of the bed and top it with a vase from the bathroom. The three bedroom cottage had a bathroom for each upstairs bedroom. Michael grinned as he wrote 'Tips Please' on the vase and rummaged through his bag for four dozen lubricated condoms and four dozen heavily ribbed French Tickler condoms. "The extra stimulation will wear hard on her ass and cunt," he thought.

Michael went back downstairs to find his other three girls. Connie stood alone in the corner by the well-stocked bar mixing herself a Vodka Collins and Sophia and Rochelle were outside enjoying the beach view. The fraternity brothers started to drift back to their rental cottage from the day's fishing. They were pretty reserved at first.

John came up to Michael and with a huge shit-eating grin on his young face said, "Man! This is fantastic. I just tried out that blonde woman upstairs and she was so tight; not at all what I expected. Of course," he added, "we are paying top dollar for our entertainment."

Michael clapped him on the back and said simply, "Good! Glad you kids are gonna have fun; satisfaction is guaranteed."

John leaned in close and quietly added, "The only thing is, … I wonder, … is three hot chicks enough for my forty guys?"

Michael waved Rochelle over and said, "John is worried that there isn't enough food on the menu tonight."

Rochelle beamed a bright smile at John and snuggled in close. "I can help out my friend," and she pointed to Sophia who was dancing among a crowd of guys; "but we need to renegotiate our arrangements then." She rubbed her breasts against the fraternity's moneyman and surreptitiously copped a feel of his tight ass.

The now brash-acting frat boy flushed and mumbled, "Well, the problem is, I think we need even more girls for dancing and drinking with. The ones upstairs are perfect for taking off the edge, but it would be nice to slip behind the dunes, into a car, or the last bedroom for some real two-way sex."

Rochelle liked the way the conversation was going. If it was to be their last night hooking, per Michael's earlier demand, then she wanted to maximize her profit on her last hurrah. Plus, she was worried that Sophia would get worn out. "OK, let's talk about adding me to the party for another one thousand. That's a bargain, I promise. You can be first with me if you want, baby."

John, flushed again and hastily said, "Sure, I'll pay you a thousand extra, but I really want to add in the other blonde," and he pointed to Connie where she stood by the bar, drinking another Vodka Collins while she swayed gently to the DJ's music.

Michael laughed quietly and grinned widely at this comment. "Tell you what, John. I'll try and talk her into it, but it will take two thousand more. She is no pro and you'd be getting prime pussy. Don't get me wrong, Rochelle and Sophia are better fucks than you will ever find in life; but Connie doesn't mess around and that's worth something to you and your mates."

John grinned, and as he thought how well this would work, out his confidence visibly returned. "The extra money and the two girls are a deal if we can keep all the girls until noon tomorrow."

Michael and Rochelle nodded together and Michael said, "Well, she is my date for the night; but, if she can leave at four in the morning, you can have the other four till noon. Oh, and only three guys an hour for Connie. The same rule applies to Rochelle and Sophia unless they want multiple partners. Deal?"

The fraternity boy's grin got even bigger and he nodded.

"OK, Rochelle," Michael added, "go even up with John here and maybe seal the deal in the third bedroom; it's empty now. I'll go work on Connie." Michael nonchalantly headed over to the self-service bar where he drew a draft beer into a twenty-four ounce plastic cup. "Come on, Connie," he said, "let's go outside and see what's going on." She flowed into his arms and they drifted outside.

A steady stream of guys drifted in and out of the house. Some came in and out for more food and drink or dancing with Sophia. Others came downstairs with big grins on their faces from dumping loads of cum into condoms while fucking one or more of the girls upstairs. Outside, the lure was the large bonfire, the grilled meats, and the peace and beauty of the beach.

Michael sat sideways on a concrete bench in the shadow of the house after arranging a huge stack of beach towels into a mattress across the cold concrete. He drew Connie down in from of him; his arms slipped possessively around her shoulders and he used her big breasts as handles to pull her back against his chest. The roving hands had free access to her fleshy charms.

She moaned in appreciation and whispered, "Oh, thank God. I'm so horny I could burst, and we've already had sex twice today." She hesitated and continued in a whisper, "Michael, those girls upstairs, .. oh, yes, keep rubbing me that way. Oh, that feels nice. Anyway, it's so hot to watch them getting stuffed full with more than one guy."

The squirming woman leaned back against his chest, her dress hiked up to her waist and her tits hanging in the open through her completely unbuttoned blouse. One big male hand mauled her breasts while the other dug deep into her moist pussy.

Michael knew she was ready to fuck and eased her facedown to the thick layer of towels on the concrete bench. He slid her blouse free of her skirt and grabbing the hem of her skirt, rolled it up tightly to form a ring around her waist. Then, he scooted her ass back to one end of the bench. He grabbed more towels and improvised a thick roll of towels to slide under her soft belly, raising her cunt up to a perfect angle for sex. His tongue burrowed its way into her musky pussy and deeply explored her cunt. Initially, he rubbed her downy-soft ass with his big hands, and then he snuck one hand down to grab a condom. While her hungry pussy undulated with need for a hard fuck, he reached into his pocket again for two more items. As the silk trousers drifted down to his ankles, his big knob explored around the wet entry to her pussy.

"Nice, Michael," Connie moaned, "keep going, please. Oh, I'm ready. Fuck me."

Michael kept up the circling motion with his cockhead around her loosening lips and said, "Connie, your pussy is up in the air, are you ready for fucking just like those girls upstairs. Is it nice?"

The horny woman groaned and clearly said, "Yes, … it is nice, … but, fuck me, please, … fuck me like your bitch, … hard and deep."

"But, Connie," Michael whispered, "am I fucking your pussy or is this just a piece of ass like that whore Carolyn? Are you helpless for sex like Carolyn, that slutty blonde bitch?"

The hour of drinking before the arrival of the fraternity boys and then the next hour of drinking while lithe and lusty guys fucked the two girls senseless upstairs had loosened Connie's normally reserved libido. She raised her ass higher and moaned, "Fuck me, nowwww!" When the tantalizing sensations around her wet cunt continued, she groaned again with horny abandon and finally said, "Yes, Michael, fuck your slutty blonde bitch. Hard! Fuck me like Carolyn, … hard with no mercy."

As her voice grew ever louder, Michael prepared for the perfect moment before he drove deep into her inner realm with a violent shove. She quieted except for a long, drawn-out grunt of satisfaction. Michael pulled out, swiveled his hips around in two circles, and plunged in again to bury his prick, balls-deep in her core. Setting all his weight against her upraised ass gave him a few moments of stability to generously douse a small mirror with cocaine smuggled into the Virgin Islands inside Ingrid Gaviard's pussy. The customs agents in the United States and the British Virgin Islands were not worried about flights from the United States, as everyone knew drugs flowed into the United States, not out of the mainland.

Michael wildly twirled his hips, stirring his stick around her juicy box and latched his mouth against the tender flesh below her ear. Hips still thrusting to her increasing groans of lust, he slipped his hands close to her face. He bit hard, just as he clasped a hand tightly over her gasping mouth, and slid the cocaine-covered glass under her nostrils. She gasped in hard, in a panic for a breath of air and her hips wildly bucked as the drug instantly overloaded her system. Her cunt responded to her avalanche of orgasms by clamping again and again against his rock-hard dick. With each gasping, snorting breath, the mirror shifted, dumping more high-quality cocaine into her system. Michael pulled his still-hard cock out and buried his face once again in her steaming pussy. He pulled back to wipe the dusty mirror across her wet clit before leaning in to nibble at the flesh.

Connie's increasingly eager verbal responses to the fucking drew a crowd of boys as well as Sophia. Sophia, who knew about John's newly negotiated deal, gaily told the crowd, "Guys, I have lots of condoms. Come forward and I'll number them for you in red marker. She is available anywhere on the property during your turn for twenty minutes. Come on, who's first?"

The guys eagerly cued up and after a few minutes Sophia set a cardboard scrap on the picnic table along with a pile of condoms and the red permanent marker. "Write down your number on the condom and the cardboard. Enjoy the hot bitch. I'll be inside dancing for a few minutes before Rochelle and I both begin taking reservations; green marker for me and hot pink for Rochelle."

The guys cheered and the first one in line, a powerfully built boy with a fresh, farm-boy look, pulled off his shirt and trousers, revealing his massive muscles. He threw down his empty condom foil and with a shouted, "Number One," buried himself in her slick pussy. "Eiiii," he yelled as he started to rapidly fuck into the upraised sex.

Connie was so wrapped up in her drug-induced high that she merely grunted and thrust up against his cock when it entered her well prepared pussy. The cocaine would keep her wildly fucking like a sex-crazed fuck-bunny for at least an hour.

Michael finished tucking in his rumpled shirt and resolved to return in a while to be sure that Connie continued to enjoy her second stint at a gangbang. He thought she would get much more sex from the forty fraternity kids than the restaurant and hotel staff dished out during her earlier experience.

The DJ's music was still in full swing with Sophia and Rochelle the center of attention, dancing with at least ten guys. Michael did the math; ten guys waiting in line for Connie, ten guys with the two college girls, leaves about twenty sex fiends upstairs with his newest acquisitions. He decided to slip upstairs and see how things were going.

Carolyn's room was a study in surreal strangeness. She was being double-teamed by one guy on each side of the sofa and six more guys sat around the room with plates piled high with food and big cups of beer. Two other young men stood naked, waiting for their turn to take over fucking once somebody shot off into their condom. "Hmmm, that's ten guys. Does Rochelle have another ten guys cued up to fuck her?"

Meanwhile, in the next room, John was buried to the hilt in Rosella's incredibly tight ass. Her membranes, irritated from two hours of non-stop fucking, along with the sexual irritant cream, made her insides feel like molten candle wax to John's stiff fuckmeat. He saw Michael and shouted, "Her ass feels like a furnace. This is my third fuck and it's going on for twenty minutes." Given his hunched over position that completely balanced his body weight on her rectum, his head blocked anyone from throat fucking the helpless sex meat.

"John," Michael shouted back, "lean back in the saddle so your buddy can get to her mouth."

The frat boy looked startled as he realized that he was hogging the woman and he shifted his weight back to settle his feet on the floor. Immediately, another frat brother knee-walked forward against her back-thrust head and buried his latex-covered cock in her mouth. He sighed with pleasure and said, "Wow, nice! The whore's nose is getting bitch-slapped by my balls. John, great job on the entertainment; it's worth every penny."

Michael saw that the sweat-streaked, would-be-whoremaster had been ridden hard. The pile of sticky, used condoms at the foot of the bed indicated that dozens of boys had been satisfied when their loads squirted off. Her dank hair and the weary snorting breaths from under the bouncing ball sacks were further testimony to her ordeal.

When John finally pulled out of her swollen red ass, Michael motioned the waiting boy to hold on. Carefully tapping the cylinder of cocaine, Michael measured a generous dose directly into her open rectum and across her bruised clit. He stepped back to let the fucking continue.

Rosella immediately came to life when the next college dick buried itself deep into her ass. It was obvious that she was exploding in orgasm from the hypersensitive condition of her cocaine-covered nerves. Her abdominal muscles ripples as her orgasms struck again and again. After she lapsed into abject unconsciousness, Michael let the two boys finish before he called for a thirty-minute break for the poor sex slave.

By the time he returned downstairs, the party had progressed to a new level. All three girls were wildly dancing, topless, with young pert boobs bouncing about. Connie still wore her wide-open blouse, but her skirt had been replaced by either Connie's or Rochelle's stretchy tube-top. Connie's fleshy ass cheeks peeked out from under the makeshift miniskirt and as she turned while dancing, her pussy winked out in plain sight.

The DJ had taken on the job of announcing over his speaker system each time twenty minutes elapsed. At that point, different guys would approach Connie, Sophia, and Rochelle for a few minutes of dancing and negotiating. Once the sex act, a fuck or suck, and location were agreed upon, they drifted away in pairs for a quickie fuck or suck. Occasionally over the long night, a disgruntled fraternity brother would be stuck on the dance floor after the twenty-minute announcement with no girl. He would have to track down the wayward couple, interrupt the ongoing sex act, and quickly jump on the whore himself as the clock kept going.

Michael roughly calculated that Sophia and Rochelle could each have forty-five twenty-minute 'dates' during their fifteen hour stint at the party. Many of these liaisons would begin to include less sex as the long night went on. After all, even college boys can't fuck indefinitely.

Connie, with sixteen opportunities for sexual abandonment during her four-hour shift, would be kept busy fucking. It was unlikely that the boys would tire of sex with her by four in the morning, the negotiated end of her commitment.

If each fraternity kid was able to complete six acts of intercourse over the fifteen hour party, then two hundred and forty condoms would be filled with gooey white jism. Potentially, Sophia, Rochelle, and Connie were available for less than one hundred of those fucking and sucking induced orgasms. That meant that with the ability to service up to three jackhammering studs each, Carolyn and Rosella would carry the rest of the burden. The two girls could provide quick gratification to about thirty-six men each during an hour of constant hip-thumping sex. Given that the lines upstairs with the bondage sluts was short compared with the downstairs girls, it was likely that the eager boys would spill most of their loads in condoms while fucking the helpless tied up pussies. Thus, with potentially hundreds of quick, violent fucks drawn to the shorter lines, Carolyn and Rosella would unwittingly shield the other three girls from a sexual overload.

Around eleven that night, Michael sat on the same concrete bench where Connie started her debut as a prostitute and speed-dialed a number into his cell phone. He held a brief whispered conversation with his conspirator, Ingrid Gaviard. Ingrid was bored from her long unexpected wait alone on the sailboat and wanted to bring one of her high-quality video cameras to the beach house to record the night's festivities. Michael told Ingrid to hold off until he cleared the idea with John to be sure it was alright.

Once John understood that Ingrid would only be recording the three whores and the two cunts in their sex acts, he agreed with three provisos. First, he wanted to preview the video to be sure no fraternity members were identifiable. Secondly, since the camera person was a female, he wanted to first break her in with his own twenty minute liaison. Lastly, if she was a cute as the other women, and since Michael was getting a hot video out of the deal, he wanted to feature her in a free drawing among the guys. The winner could lock himself in the third bedroom with her alone from two in the morning until noon. No sharing on the last, fresh piece of pussy left in the vacation cottage.

Michael grinned at this and said, "Nice. Guess it never hurts to try and negotiate your best deal. OK, I'll leave this up to Ingrid. But, in return I want Connie free at one in the morning to take home. After all, she is my date for the night, not your rental fucktoy."

John couldn't care less about letting Connie loose early. He felt getting a chance at a sixth hot whore in one night was worth anything. Plus, he knew the guys would slow down soon and not need all the girls. "Besides," he told himself, "its only eleven at night and I've already fucked both those kinky bitches upstairs as well as Rochelle. I'm already signed up for the two blondes, Connie and Sophia."

Optimistic, he felt sure that he could get it up three more times in the next two hours. "OK, man," he replied, 'it's a deal if you get Ingrid to agree. Then she can film about four and a half hours of sex before her bedtime at four in the morning."

Michael phoned Ingrid back and gave her instructions for the rest of the night. Despite not having an option, Ingrid was eager for some action.

At 11:30, Ingrid got out of her cab in front of the secluded beach house. The high-level of party activity was unnoticeable from the street beyond the faint sound of music drifting through the stunted trees. Ingrid straightened up the seams in her stocking and lined up her garters. She wore a French Maid costume that clearly showed off her garters and provided tantalizing peaks of her black, sheer panties. To add to the mystery and hide her identity from the already impaired Connie, Ingrid snapped a concealing opera mask over her face and shouldered her camera bag.

Michael met Ingrid at the door and kissed her boldly on her lips, easily available under the half mask. He also took a few blatant gropes that were noticed by some of the guys in the living room. Michael raised one wet finger from where he had tested her excitement through an open gusset in her crotchless panties and whiffed it. "Hmmm, nice and aromatic. Are you hot tonight, Ingrid," he asked.

Ingrid did a quick shimmy, shaking her lush titties and smiled. Her lips were red and shiny below the white opera mask. She slid the camera bag free to hand over as John approached with a huge, shit-eating grin on his face.

"You go girl! You are so hot!"

Ingrid leaned back to wink at Michael as if to say, "Watch this bitch in action." With undulating hips, she pulled the boy outside onto the deck.

Michael wasn't sure how quickly she would conquer the boy. After all, getting him to pop off quickly was harder with each successive climax. "His balls have to getting empty soon. The little prick is randy as a goat." He moved over to the bar to see what kinds of beer were on ice.

Outside, Ingrid looked for a dark corner to get finished with the kid. She wanted no distractions from her mission to film the other five girls in various acts of sexual debauchery. She pushed him against a wall of the house, popped open her blouse, and stuck his hands on her braless tits. Then, she reached up to clasp his head and locked her lips tightly against his while grinding her ruffled, miniskirt-covered groin against his.

She grinned in triumph when her pubic mound felt his cock thicken from her stimulation. Still maintaining her wild tongue battle with John, she sent her hands down to quest for his belt. Less than two minutes after first laying eyes on John, her lips slid a condom around the hard knob on his dick.

Shirt wide open, he leaned back against the wall, pants and underwear around his ankles as the woman began the best blowjob of his life. He knew he could fuck for hours after dumping three loads while fuck three chicks. He relaxed and hunched forward to drive deeper into her eager mouth. Her hands yanked at his ass, forcefully driving his hips harder in and out of her mouth. He felt the knob of his dick thump against her throat; once, twice, and then he gasped as her hand thrust fingers hard up into his rectum. Unprepared or lubricated, the initially painful sensation took him by surprise and then her fingers scraped against his prostate. He felt a huge spurt of cum release from his balls, flow down his cock, and into the condom tightly suctioned into her hot mouth. Her jaw opened wide and her teeth scraped against his pubic area as the most draining orgasm of his life flowed out of his spurting cock. The finger eased out of his ass and he slumped down to his knees beside Ingrid.

She winked at him and lewdly caressed her lips with her tongue before saying, "Was that intense enough for you, baby?"

John just weakly nodded and stared at the beautiful creature that had just gobbled him down and given him the most overwhelming cum of his life. "Holy shit! If you fuck like you suck then I have to win you in the raffle."

Ingrid squeezed his cock hard and said, "Best you not even enter. Your mates would accuse you of cheating. Maybe at noon we can have a rematch, if you're up to a little sporting bet that is." With that, she stood up and straightened her crotchless panties, the seams on her hose, and the garter straps. Just inches away, John stared as if mesmerized.

Ingrid took the camera back from Michael after less than five minutes after giving it to him. His Pacifico Beer was still half full.

"Master," she whispered, "what else did you expect from one of your well-trained sex sluts?" She kissed his cheek and turned to get the camera ready to go. Seconds later, only a faint residue of her perfume remained.

Michael grinned and willed his thickening cock to subside. After all, he had pulled out of Connie without dumping his sperm-filled ball sacks. "Later," he promised himself. "She'll be at my mercy on the sail back to Miami."

"Yes, my friend," he thought smugly, "this is working out well. Sophia and Rochelle earn six thousand dollars, minus expenses for the night, and I get two PPP-rated bondage sluts to use however I please. Their worth is easily two hundred thousand dollars. Despite the demand for revenge by Connie, Rochelle, and Sophia, I won't sell them off to a South American mining camp. That would be too much of a waste. Yep, life is fucking great!"

--L--A--T--E--R--

Connie Baxter lay limply sprawled across the queen-sized bed in Destiny's master cabin. Her long blond hair was in disarray, sweaty and matted from her sexual marathon. After Michael Moore (Aaron Clarke) forced the unprepared woman to snort high-potency cocaine, Connie was tricked into beginning a series of achingly satisfying orgasms. The first fraternity boy punched his fat cock into her pussy while it still clasped greedily for Michael's dick. Only after dozen's of drug-enhanced explosions of ecstasy was Connie dimly aware that her seemingly never-ending fuck was from a changing supply of lovers, not just Michael.

Too befuddled to overcome the wonderful feelings of bliss enhanced by the cocaine and alcohol, Connie gave in to the sensations and fucked back. Her sweaty body and the raw looking pussy lips framed by pubic hair clumped with condom lube, pussy juice, and sweat gave convincing testimony to her sexual depravity.

Connie had been well and truly fucked before Michael came and took her away from the dance floor. At the time, she was wildly dancing, topless; the only girl among a crowd of men. Connie had lost her blouse, but still wore a stretchy tube-top as a skirt. Connie passed out in the car riding back to the marina, her slimy pussy on open display between her splayed open legs. Too much sex, alcohol, drugs, and simple physical exhaustion had taken their toll. Michael wandered into the bathroom to wet some hand towels with warm water. He gently gave her a whore's bath, thankful that the condoms kept her from becoming covered in crusty sperm.

Michael Moore squeezed the base of his cock after rubbing the right side of the spongy fuckmeat with alcohol. He snapped fingers from his other hand against the cylinder of a small syringe filled with clear liquid to remove any air bubbles and smoothly sunk the thin needle one-half inch deep into the corpus sponglosum. Michael rarely used the alprostadil as he had never had problems achieving achingly hard erections. The drug would allow his penis to fully engorge with blood, a condition that even sleep would not relieve. The injection would result in a persistent erection (priapism) that would not subside in less than six hours. Only vigorous and extended sex would make the rock-hard fuckmeat relax.

Michael rolled a condom down his nine-inch bludgeon, laid himself ass-down on the bed, and rolled Connie's lifeless body over his. He guided his cock into her dry, raw pussy and lowered her body. A quick tug on the sheet and he relaxed before slowly drifting off to sleep. Connie Baxter would awaken in a few hours and discover his bar of rock-hard fuckmeat welded into her pussy. "Her reaction will be interesting," he thought as he fell asleep.

Connie was deep in dreamland, unaware whether she was awake or asleep. Her body vaguely ached; maybe with unfulfilled desire, maybe from too strenuous an exercise workout. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation. She sighed and unconsciously stretched her toes and fingers. The slight movement pulled her sticky breasts slightly away from the surface upon which they were stuck.

She frowned sleepily, trying to figure out why her skin was stuck against anything. "I always wear my jammies," she thought. "Why am I naked?"

Michael awoke when Connie stirred restlessly on his broad chest. He ran a rough hand gently down her spine; she sighed and snuggled tighter against his naked form. He flexed his stiff cock. It was still buried deep into her tight cunt. Michael continued to feign sleep; but he rolled his hips up slightly, rocking his pelvis gently against her pubic mound.

Connie's subconscious tied the increasing feelings of arousal from the big dick stirring her cunt to a daydream. In her sleepy state, she dreamed that her body was fired with lust as Michael Moore satisfied her every need. Still dreaming, she opened her eyes to discover that a bright light highlighted her upright form, writhing slowly upon her lover's cock. In the dream, Connie was vaguely aware of an audience all around her, as if she was on display on a large stage. Connie actually felt her breasts swell up from the desire sweeping through her system. The idea of conservative Connie riding a giant dick, fully naked and in plan sight of an audience, triggered gut-wrenching orgasms.

Michael felt the muscles in her belly and cunt spasm and correctly guessed that Connie had just cum. He stopped his tiny pelvic thrusts and enjoyed the spasms rippling across his cock.

He returned his hands to Connie's smooth ass cheeks and wondered how Ingrid Gaviard was doing. He had left the wild fuck-a-thon before the fraternity conducted the free raffle that would determine the lucky lad with full rights to the only fresh cunt left in the house, Ingrid the photographer. John, the frat treasurer, had taken Michael aside and explained that the drawing was rigged. The ticket to be drawn belonged to Luke, the youngest member that the fraternity had ever had. The boy's family was obscenely rich and an historic donator of funds to the fraternity. Michael tried to visualize the shell-shocked look on Ingrid's face as she was led to the only private bedroom left in the rented beach cottage by a scrawny little kid. He was certain that Ingrid never thought she would bed a child. He hoped she felt it worth it, as it was her idea to come over to film the action.

Carolyn White groaned and tried to move her aching limbs. She hurt everywhere. Her face felt like it had been pounded with a sledgehammer. "Why can't I move my hands and feet?" she thought blearily. "Oww, it hurts everywhere. My mouth feels like it is packed with sand." Unable to open her eyes in the bright light, she wondered if she was outside. Her eyes were gritty and covered with sand. Her face was stuck down in sand and she couldn't get up. She then realized that the nearby sound of surf and the sand on her face meant she was outside near a beach.

"Ohhh, my God!" she moaned when her gritty eyes opened up enough to see that she was indeed outside, naked, and bound up like a slut. "That bitch, Connie," she moaned to herself as she began to remember some of what had transpired during the last twenty-four hours. "Oh, my poor cunnie and bottom. They fucked me over and over. Ohhh, my jaws hurt so bad from this fucking gag thing. Wait, … how did I get out here?"

She remembered hearing that the 'whores' at the party were hired until noon the next day. From the angle of the sun, it was only early in the day. "Where are all the frat kids?" she thought. Unable to do more than turn her head sideways, she couldn't see the beach house, only the water and a stretch of deserted beach on either side of her body. "When is this horrible ordeal going to end?"

John sat on reclining chair beside the now cold bonfire pit. He was admiring the view of the sand-covered blonde hooker. From her weak stirring about, he guessed she was waking up. He grinned, thinking how unbelievable it was that he had fucked, or at least dumped a load because of, every whore at the party. The achievement might well last him a lifetime. He remembered how tight the whore in front of him had been at the start of the party. "Of course, I think I got first fuck rights on most of the girls last night," he remembered. "Guess she might not be so tight now."

Carolyn heard the sound of footsteps moving through the dry sand behind her bare, upthrust ass. Unknown to her, John stood admiring the lines of her ass. To protect his cock from sandpaper action that her sandy skin might cause, he poured most of his remaining beer onto her already sunburned ass. The cold liquid felt good and Connie relaxed as best she could, thinking the act was a merciful one. Then something hard and unresisting was jammed into her sore asshole. It was tilted up and the liquid frothed and bubbled out of her rectum. "The bastard just dumped his beer on me," she realized. "Why in my ass?" Noooo, … , hease, ullp heee. Hop hit!" her voice transitioned from a silent inner voice to a gag distorted whining plea for help.

John finished the initial downward lunge of his stiff dick into her cold and foamy rectum. "Good thing I washed off that sand. Ohhh, that would hurt." He muttered and then moaned aloud in relief at the tight, scratching feeling along the length of his cock. "Ohhh, yes. I wish you were mine girl. I would drill your ass night and day. Hmmm, yes."

Carolyn could only whimper in distress. Her tears flowed, cutting thin rivers through the grit and grime on her face. She was no longer the 'in charge' woman from the day before. Broken, she felt the thrusts moving her hips about. Unwilling, but nevertheless, her inner passion started to build, the humiliation and pain now acting as erotic stimuli she couldn't resist.

John smiled down at the beginning of a response from the hot chick under him. "God! You are such a slut, girl!"

Back on the boat, Connie was increasing the movement of her hips as yet another orgasm erupted through her over-sexed body. It was at least her fourth cum, and she was still sleepily thinking it was all a dream. Her fingers stretched and curled again as an unstoppable round of spasms wracked her body. "Ohhh, Michael," she moaned to her dream lover, "you are the best. Fuck …, fuck …, fuck …, fuck me you bastard. Let them look at us! Just fuck me!"

Tired of being passive after forty-five minutes of non-stop sleepy fucking by Connie, Michael jammed his hips upward and his hands each clenched a big breast, pushing her upright to a more vertically impaled fuck position.

Connie's eyes opened wide at the greatly increased stimulation. She only had time to open her mouth in amazement at being in bed with Michael when her next orgasm struck. "Eiiii," she screamed in passion. "Fuck me!"

Michael kept up his strong thrusts, raising her body up, again and again. He decided it was time to take charge. He reached down to grab under her thighs by his ass and raised up his hands, dragging her knees up toward her head. A strong lunge upward, and he came up to roll over onto Connie, her cunt widely open and her knees trapped by her ears. Michael rocked his hips in a circle, pulled out once to gauge the distance for his outthrusts, and began to drill in and out as hard as he could possibly plunge. It felt great. Connie was grunting now below him as the force of his lunges repeatedly drove the air out of her lungs.

"Yes, he thought, "this is the fucking life. What fun! Life is fucking great!"

Author: Desert Dog ****** E-Mail: Desertlickingdog at yahoo dot com

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