Peter slowly raised up onto his elbows, keeping his eyes averted from the perpetual video loop on the screen, and reached for the water bottle on the metal nightstand. His fingers shook and his grip was weak as he spilled water down his chest. There was no point in ignoring it any longer–his energy level was dropping fast. Even getting out of bed and staggering to the toilet took all his willpower and concentration. For the first few days of his incarceration, Peter had paced endlessly up and down his cell, focusing his energy upon his survival. What a distant memory that seemed now!
His eyes drifted back to the screen again and now Charlotte had Mosley’s hard cock deep in her throat, her bulging cheeks flushed and her nose nestling in his pubic hair. Peter stared with fascinated disgust. If they were ever reunited, could he ever bring himself to kiss those soft lips again without picturing Mosley’s erect penis jammed between them?
Peter watched Charlotte pulling away and gasping for breath, with a line of drool connecting her velvety lips to Mosley’s glistening cockhead. And as he gazed with begrudging envy at the pervert’s engorged sex organ, Peter slipped his hand inside his shorts and began to tug forlornly away at his own flaccid member–not for pleasure, but just to find out if he could still get it up. Miserably, he had already anticipated the answer to that, and after a few minutes of futile stroking, he gave up with a frustrated sob.
It was useless–and so was he!
On screen, in sharp focus, Mosley ejaculated onto Charlotte’s outstretched tongue. She turned and displayed his creamy jism to the camera and then she closed her mouth and swallowed, with a glazed look of euphoria in her eyes.
***
Charlotte thought she might finally be going insane. She was starting to hallucinate and hear voices, and it had taken her a while to realize that one of those voices was her own as she mumbled to herself in the darkness. She had totally lost track of time. She vaguely recalled Mosley telling her that she would be his guest for two weeks, but whether that time had passed or not, she had no clue. Maybe he had changed his mind and decided to keep her here forever, naked, alone, and perpetually horny, just letting her out from time to time to satisfy his lust–as well as her own.
She imagined still being down here when she reached her thirties, or even her forties–would he still be sexually interested in her then? Outside, up there in the real world, people would go about their lives as usual. Students would graduate and find jobs, teenagers would pair off and get married and have children, the seasons would come and go, Christmases and New Year’s would be celebrated, there would be world events and catastrophes, maybe even another virus outbreak and a counter revolution. But would Charlotte ever know? What if Mosley had to make a run for it without telling anybody that he had a naked woman locked in his basement? Would she starve to death in here? Who would come looking for her?
Her devoted husband would, of course. Or would he? Perhaps, after watching so many of her vulgar performances with Mosley, Peter had fallen out of love with her. He might declare legal abandonment and find a new wife–one that wasn’t a cocksucking whore.
Perhaps it would be better for the both of them if she remained in this vertical, ready-made coffin. Peter could rebuild his life while she stood perfectly still in the silent darkness. All she needed was her milk, anyway. And if she was a good girl, if she begged the way he liked it, Mosley might unlock the door and allow her to use his pale and skinny body for her carnal pleasure. The thought of his stiff cock made her gulp hungrily, the taste of his cum permanently in the back of her throat. The next instant she was sucking on the feeding tube and rubbing her hard nipples up and down against the cell door, listening intently for any indication that he might be coming to see her so she wouldn’t have to endure another moment alone.
So very alone.
***
Charlotte was on her knees on the bed, her face pressed sideways into the mattress, her hands behind her, pulling her butt cheeks apart, offering Thomas her cute little brown asshole. He hadn’t invaded that orifice yet. Luke had the camcorder in position and Thomas had his cock in his hand. One last show for Peter Blanchard. Then the next part of the experiment would begin.
He touched his cockhead against Charlotte’s anus and her shoulders tensed.
“Is this your first time?” Thomas asked.
“Yes,” Charlotte said softly.
“After all your years of marriage, I’m surprised,” Thomas said. “I mean even with a hot bitch like yourself, the same old stuff must get boring after a while.”
Thomas stroked his cock up and down the open cleft of Charlotte’s ass.
“Was it a mutual decision, or did you draw the line at anal?” Thomas said.
“P-Peter never asked for it,” Charlotte mumbled.
“Seriously?” Thomas said, turning to the camera. “What a wimp you are, Peter! Although I suppose you prefer to think of yourself as a gentleman.”
Thomas pressed his thumb against Charlotte’s anal opening and began to slowly rotate it.
“Yet you engaged in oral sex,” Thomas said.
“Y-Yes!” Charlotte gasped as Thomas worked his thumb into her asshole.
“Both ways?”
“Ugh! Y-Yes, Thomas!”
His thumb was all the way inside her now, and he slowly worked it around inside her rectum.
“Which way did you prefer?”
“W-What?”
“Did Peter give as good a plating as you do blow jobs?”
“I-I don’t know!” Charlotte moaned.
Thomas removed his thumb.
“Well, did he make you come?”
Even in her agitated state, Charlotte must have realized that it was a loaded question.
“No,” she whimpered.
Thomas poised the end of his dick over her puckered opening.
“Look at the camera,” Thomas said. “Tell your husband how incompetent he is.”
Charlotte wriggled around so that she was facing the camera.
“Y-You never made me come, Peter!” she sniffed. “I faked it every time.”
Thomas edged his glans inside her sphincter.
“Do you fake it with me?” he said.
“N-No!” Charlotte whined.
Thomas pushed his cockhead deeper inside her and slapped her on the right buttock.
“Tell Peter!”
“Agh! Thomas always makes me come!”
Thomas leaned forward a couple more inches.
“Do you want me to come inside your ass?” Thomas said.
“Yes please, Thomas!”
“Then beg, bitch!”
“P-Please come inside my asshole, Thomas!”
Thomas pushed all the way in, and Charlotte shrieked out loud.
“How does that feel?” Thomas said.
“W-Wonderful!” Charlotte wailed.
“Now, work with me,” Thomas said. “Show your husband how much you love to be butt fucked!”
Charlotte dutifully obeyed, matching Thomas’s rhythm and squeezing her sphincter muscle so tightly around his shaft that it only took a couple of minutes for him to spurt inside her.
“What do you have to say, Charlotte?” Thomas panted.
“Thank you for my first anal!” Charlotte breathed.
He pulled out and watched her dilated anus pulsing as his cum trickled down to her puffy cunt lips.
After catching his breath, Thomas said, “Now I have some good news for you–today you get to go home.”