“No Buxter! Heel! I’m…. Agh!” His cock slipped in with an understandable ease, both sex organs were so lubed up that Buxter could probably share her cunt with Bear,”
Her arms reached down and swatted. She screamed at Buxter’s elated face below her. “No! Buxter! No! I’m a virgin! STOOO…”
At this point Frank entered the scene. She hadn’t noticed him approach her, so concerned with what was happening below her. Charlie was still sitting, somewhat defeated, somewhat satisfied and content on the edge of the bed. Frank pressed cock into her protesting mouth with a force that triggered Esme’s gag reflex. She instinctively controlled her body’s reaction, as Frank pleasured himself with her throat. She continued to flail, but Frank was even bigger than Charlie. She mumbled “Please, not there! No! Not my virginity!” came out as barely audible groans. Real as her fears and concerns were, she couldn’t help but acknowledge how pleasurable this spitroasting felt. She always loved to have something in her mouth while she fucked herself, but this new experience, sitting back and letting her lovers do all the work somehow heightened the sensation. She was able to focus exclusively on how it all felt. Frank’s musky member stretching her jaw. She could feel it sliding down her throat. The alternating thrusts of Bear and Buxter. Though she’d tried countless times, she’d never been able to fuck herself with such fervor. The two cocks sloshed and slurped as her cum, their spunk and the remnants of Charlie’s spit greased her insides with milky goodness.
She felt tears drip down her face as her shouts turned to whimpers. The fact that she loved the feeling only made her feel even more ashamed of her circumstance. She closed her eyes and begged for forgiveness, desperate to be released for her conscience’s sake. This was all her fault, her fault for letting Charlie inside her mouth, letting him lick her. Her fault for masturbating in a stranger’s home, for being so addicted to masturbation. She was disgusted with herself. Worse than all of that though, she knew that if this continued, there was no going back, hell, there probably already wasn’t. That thought frightened her far more than anything the dogs were doing to her, far more than anything they might do: the thought that she liked it, loved it, craved it… needed it.
“Please God!” she attempted to scream, though the moans of pleasure that punctuated her cries for help probably made her pleas seem disingenuous even to her. At most she could say that she wanted to want them to stop.
“Heel!” shouted that same commanding voice from Esme’s first night. Instantly all motion stopped. Even the clear alpha of the pack Bear stopped in his tracks. Esme noticed that she had stopped as well, in fact she’d even stopped breathing.
“Corner! NOW!” Mr Crawford’s voice boomed through the room. It was even deeper and raspier than her last experience. The sound dripped with command.
All four dogs returned to their beds. Frank jumped off the bed, almost taking Esme’s head with him. Bear slipped out of her ass with an audible pop before Buxter spun Esmeralda off of his stomach and the two shook themselves off before proceeding to their spot. Charlie hopped onto the opposite corner of the mattress, this was clearly his spot, as there were only three beds in the corner of the room. Esme sat up in response as though at attention in response to Ms Crawford’s command the same way the dogs were.
“Are you alright Ms. Torres?” She spoke, somewhat softer, but with the same commanding tone. Esmeralda nodded in response. Her eyes were pointed down, they followed the grain of their oak floors. She felt like a child, clearly in a world of trouble. She stretched her forearm across her chest and slipped the other between her legs to create some element of modesty.
“The dogs will remain where they are until you have composed yourself and I release them. I assure you, this will not happen again.” There was a contained anger in his voice. Clearly Ms. Crawford was upset with the situation, how much of that anger was directed at Esmeralda, she couldn’t quite decipher yet. Also present in the woman’s tone was concerned with Esme’s safety. The young lady came to see that this was the truest form of dominance, the kind that freed her to surrender to it. It wasn’t overbearing or insecure but simply existed as a constant truth, a matter of fact: she was in control. There was no need to prove dominance, and there was no way her dominance could be undermined by compassion for the dominated. It was this concern for her wellbeing that made Esmeralda somewhat envious of her canine lovers. Suddenly she craved being under the same thumb, she longed to please.
In reply to her statement, Esme looked up at the screen, doing her best to lock her eyes through the screen. She was making a calculation, an educated guess, or maybe more of a gamble. The dogs seemed at least familiar with fucking, and Ms Crawford in no way seemed phased by her debauchery. She knew exactly how to stop them, and only did so when it was clear Esme felt unsafe. Furthermore, in order to be there to intervene, she must have already been watching, so clearly, she had no problem beforehand otherwise she would have cut the gods off. Maybe she not only tolerated their behavior, could he facilitate it. Ms. Crawford seemed to drip sexuality, she figured the woman had a wild side. If anyone was open to this behavior it would be her. Maybe this was something she did regularly even. Esme’s heart was aflutter as she made her move.
With her eyes locked on the lens fixed across from her, she dropped her arm, exposing her ravaged breasts, next her other hand also relented. She leaned back on them and spread her cum drenched legs to the camera, biting her lip as she tried her best to beckon her attention toward her pulsing holes.
“Unless of course, you don’t want that behavior to stop.” Chimed a curious Ms. Crawford. Esme shook her head no.
“Are you no longer concerned with your virginity, dear?” She wasn’t. The moment she had a second to gather herself, and as soon as she fell prey to Ms Crawford’s sultry command, she completely surrendered to her depravity. For the first time she looked forward to telling Father Gusman about all of this.
“No ma’am… I… I mean… they’ve already taken it, I guess.” She hated how frail her voice sounded. She wanted to sound something like Ms Crawford. Her infatuation with her was growing by the second. She was an idol, a crush, a craving, a role model.The woman she was speaking with had so much confidence, she envied Ms. Crawford’s demeanor, her interaction with the dogs was probably far more dignified, though clearly they were used to fucking. She felt her pussy twitch as she thought about what the six of them got up to together… What dynamic might she add to their sexual adventures?
She could hear the speaking just out of earshot. Was she not alone?! Had she gotten it wrong? She wondered. Maybe she was in fact disgusted with her. Their delay was just out of appallment. Suddenly that ever pressing shame began to flood her, she folded in on herself as whatever confidence led her to display herself to Mr Crawford diminished rapidly.