A cry of horror-stricken dread broke from her palpitating lips; her eyes started, dilated, brimming with glistening tears.
For the head of his imbedding cock grazed the membrane which was her last barrier to carnal subjugation!
Resting atop her mastering her by his weight, his nakedness, the sensual domination of his cruel fingers, he murmured: “That’s it, darling… your cherry… your virgin maidenhead… and since this is your wedding night, it must be battered down before I can really fuck you as a whore like you should be fucked!”
“Oh… oh… mercy… mercy… Bob, I beg you! Don’t… don’t… do… it oh … no, no! Bob… I swear I’ll change my ways… I’ll not be so selfish… please… please… if you ever loved me… no… no… don’t!” And she began to sob hysterically, shuddering, trying to retreat her body from that fearful prong, the tip of which, brushing against her hymen, sent tingling nuances of dread and frightful psychical anguish through her nerves.
“Of course you’ll be less selfish… for aren’t you going to share your cunt with my cock very soon? Now… grit your teeth, Marcia. I’m going to pop your cherry and get an idea of how deep a twat you’ve got!”
And with a lunge, be assailed the barrier!
It did not yield; but a scream, shill, inhuman, tore from her and she writhed, her head flinging against the belt, her arms jerking so desperately that a tearing sound announced the rending of the silk-the rending of the silk before the rending of her maidenhead!
He was prepared for this. No sooner had her arms come free than, withdrawing his right hand from the palpation of her bottom globe, he seized her wrists in his hands and, laying himself at full length upon her, spread out her arms, weighing down against her wrists with vigorous fingers and again she was spread eagled and ready for sacrifice.
Then, with a tremendous heave of his muscular, naked posterior, he rammed his cock against her virgin membrane.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh!”
Prolonged, raucous, throbbing, was her shriek and her belly and breasts rushed up against him, her head flung madly back from side to side, her thighs jerked, tried to close, her loins sought to disengage the lance of lust from that deflorated grotto of delight!
It was done!
Marcia’s proud virginity was taken!
Shuddering, almost fainting with the horror and searing, sudden pain that had invaded her sanctified grotto of Venus-bliss, Marcia felt, as in a dream, her throbbing quimtemple penetrated… for with another virile thrust, he had impaled her to the testicles.
“That’s every inch I’ve got and your cunt’s deep enough to take another foot at least-but this will have to do till your next customer comes along!” he hoarsely exclaimed.
His mouth then fused on hers and drank burning kisses, lecherous, feverish, lustful, from her agonized and tear-moistened lips; and indeed he tasted the salt of those tears and was stimulated to greater prowess by that libation.
“Now for your first good fucking, darling,” he muttered and began, with long, deliberate thrusts, to impale her seething cuntshrine. Her body writhed and jerked, seized by nervous spasms, defeated, possessed, deflorated of pride and assurance as well as of virginity.
Her arms writhed, she sought to undo the harsh, fettering constraint of his sinewy fingers; it was in vain; her groans, her sobs, her tears, her incoherent pleas moved him no more than had she been a slave begging for mercy at the whipping post of lustful punishment!
Indeed, those plaints were music to his ears, which had heard only the cool, tinkling scorn of her mirth and provocative disdain.
The whip lay near their welded bodies on the sumptuous bed, unneeded now. Her subjugation by his manhood meant far more in sensual defeat!
Her martyred cuntgroove shivered, burning still with the laceration of her virgin barrier and so involuntarily her cuntwalls tensed and surged deliciously, against his hardened, rooted cock, burying so vengefully within her Venus-haven as if to wrench away when it withdrew the last vestiges of flesh-esteem and psyche selfishness.
It was invigorating to his lust to feel her humble under him, to hear her faltering, moaning, sobbing pleas, her tearful entreaties to “stop… oh…
Bob… it hurts me so… ah ohhh… oooh… not so hard… oh… you’ve torn me Bob pity oh… ah… oooooo… hhhh… mercy…“
“What, a whore begging for mercy before she’s felt a douche of bubbling cock juice?” he taunted her and continued, with prolonged and deeply penetrating strokes of his stiffened lance, to slake his lust within the humid haven of her deflorated quim.
Then, quivering with the fury of passion that surged through him to know that this aristocratic beauty’s flesh was his to shame and ravish to his prong’s content, he began to quicken the cadence of his strokes… her cuntwalls felt the agonizing, lubricious rasp and friction of the manroot… her groans became feverish, her head rose, fell back, turned endlessly, her eyes closed in a coma of delirious anguish and shame.
“How does it feel to be fucked, you beautiful bitch?” he hoarsely interrogated her as, shuddering, panting, weeping, she tossed and writhed under him, tensing her thighs, her arms, her breasts imploring with their anguished surging up against his crushing chest for mercy.
“Oh… oh… enough… oh… you are kill… ing… me… Bob… for heaven’s… sake… dear God in heaven… stop oh… oh… I… can’t… bear any more… oh… oh… ahhh… “Bob Bob! Pardon! Pardon! Forgive me-ahh … oh… ohhhhhhh…“
She was past knowledge of the turpitude to which her ravished flesh constrained her; her body was inflamed by carnal martyrdom… her repugnance for the male … her furious chagrin… her hauteur… all. these attributes were purged in the Golgotha of fornication which made of her only a groove of feminine, shivering fuck-flesh to be mastered and possessed and carnally enjoyed.
His mouth descended on hers and mastered her groans, silenced them with a lubricious, searing kiss; he drank her tears, her mouth-nectar, he felt her body writhe and press and seethe against his naked flesh… and with a cry of joyous vengeance~ with a final, consummate thrust that rammed her till their pubic hairs entwined, he poured down his lust expectoration into the turbulently martyred confines of her cunt!
Feeling the hot, loathsome gush inundate her never before profaned quimchasm, she shrieked and her body shuddered, limpened, under him, just as his virile prong, depleted of its contemptuous offering to her deceitful beauty, emptied its viscous libation into the fathom of her womb.
He lay upon her, sprawled at lascivious, mastering length upon her supine, inert body. The deed was done, the debutante debauched and undone by her own treachery!
In the next room, love was attuned to lust.
For, ravished to exultant sensual triumph by the sight of Marcia’s violation, Gregory, trembling with mounting passion and delight in his beautiful and complaisant mistress, took her in his arms and gently but with the insistence of urgent male desire, fixed his hot mouth on her inviting, willing lips… the lovers, naked on the couch of bliss-fulfillment, lay, taking their joy of each other, entwined, cleaving in that ecstasy which only mutual desire brings.
Travers rose at last from the swooning debutante, went to the door and called, “Greg! Marie!”
Bliss had been achieved, so they came to his call and entered the salon, smiling at him, their hands entwined adoringly.
“You two have done me a favor money can’t repay,” Travers told them, his eyes glowing with the memory of Marcia’s downfall, “but there’s one favor I’d like to ask of you.”
“Anything at all, old man. Speak up. I’ve no interest in that useless, rich slut,” said Gregory, bending to kiss Marie’s appealing, warm red lips.
Travers retrieved his trousers, drew out a wallet from the pocket and, opening it, extracted five one-hundred-dollar bills. Handing them to Marie; he said, “To satisfy my revenge on her, here’s another five hundred.”
“But what for Bob? You paid for violating her,” said Greg.
“That was for the virginity of her whorish cunt… this money’s for her other maiden-head!” said the stalwart blond suitor and conqueror of the mastered debutante.
“What a capital idea!” exclaimed Marie. “That should really take her down!”
“I want you two to help me,” said Travers.
“Of course we will, won’t we, darling?” smiled Marie, turning to her lover.
“You’re her mistress now, sweetheart,” he replied. “Her fate is in your hands.”
Marie’s lovely blue eyes grew cold as she recalled Marcia’s snobbish treatment and, compressing her lips, she said, “Then take her maidenhead, the maidenhead of her bottom, Bob and welcome!”
It was agreed.
The three executioners entered the bedroom. Travers seized Marcia by the hair, while Gregory took the whip and Marie stood ready to aid, should there be need.
Wakened from her swoon, the terrified Marcia burst into tears, but Travers commanded her roughly to get out of bed.
She obeyed, cowering; the sight of the whip- her violation-her nightmarish humiliations- had rendered her a passive body, without resistance: She thought she had attained the nadir of despair and suffering.