American Blue (12 page)

It was all I could do to wriggle my toes and fingers, but I tried, hoping to signal them to at least untie me. They took no notice, drinking and smoking and laughing amongst themselves with ever greater excitement. Out of sheer desperation I began to chew
through
the piece of rope in my mouth, and then the bag was finally pulled off my head. I was looking straight up into the light and for a moment could see only vague shapes, but my vision quickly cleared. They were looking down at me, all six of them in a ring around the filthy, stained mattress where I lay. I tried to plead with my eyes, and Shana spoke up.

‘Oh yeah, I am going to enjoy this.’

‘Are you sure she’ll be willing, Mel?’ Abi May asked. ‘She doesn’t look it.’

‘She’s a slut,’ Melody answered. ‘Spank her and she’s up for anything.’

‘Who gives a fuck anyway?’ Shana demanded. ‘I want to come.’

‘So we ought to spank her?’ Felicita queried.

‘It would be kind,’ Mel told her.

The ropes were cutting into me, every muscle in my body seemed to be on fire, and I was still trying to make frantic signals with my eyes, only to be rolled over, face down. They tucked my legs up to my belly, so my bum was stuck high in the air, a fat, furry pink ball, with my slit open to show off between my cheeks. One of them laughed at the sight, and they began to spank me, all six of them trying to get at my bum at once.

I fell over on my side but they hauled me up again. I tried to crawl away, shuffling on my tightly bound legs, but they simply came with me, giggling to see the absurd display I was making of myself and spanking all the harder for my insolence. I wriggled and squirmed, shaking my bottom and grunting through the soiled panties in my mouth, but the stinging slaps continued to rain down until my bottom was aglow.

It stopped when Shana mounted me, her thighs cocked wide across my body, her pussy rubbing against my bottom and the fur of my shorts. The others began to cheer her on, urging her to make
herself
come against my flesh, but she suddenly stopped, squatting on my bottom as her fingers began to tug at the knot holding my panty gag in place. It came free, the rope went loose and I spat out the filthy panties, gasping for breath and trying to get out a thank you at the same time.

She didn’t bother to reply, but twisted me over on to my back, swung her legs forward and stood over me, her legs braced on either side of my head. The others saw what she was doing and called out their encouragement, urging her to sit on my head. She waited a moment, letting what was about to happen to me sink in, and squatted down. Her blue and white skirt floated up around her hips, and her bare bottom was in my face.

‘Eat me out,’ she demanded. ‘Lick my butthole, and no bullshit. I know you do it.’

I already was, my tongue poked well in up the tight, sweaty little hole and my mouth full of the taste of her. She hadn’t given me much choice, sitting full on my face so that her cheeks spread, bumhole to mouth. To lick was pure instinct.

‘She’s doing it,’ Shana moaned. ‘That’s it, babe, right in, taste my—’

She broke off with a sigh and gave her bottom a little wiggle to encourage me. I already had my tongue in as far as it would go, still in pain but lost to the filthy, humiliating thrill of being made to lick her anus. The others were laughing and touching me, fingers probing my pussy and tickling in my open crease. Something was stuck in me, I didn’t know what, and they began to fuck me as I kissed and lapped at Shana’s open, slippery bumhole.

‘Ass-licking little slut!’ one of the Hispanic girls called, and she began to spank me, jamming whatever was up my cunt in with every slap.

‘Stick one up her butthole!’ another girl urged.

‘You got it,’ Bambi Bailey answered, and something round was pushed into my anus.

I was slimy with my own juices, and my hole spread immediately, taking whatever thick, hard object they’d decided to force up me. The girls laughed to see how soft and easy I was, Bambi pushed again and the round thing was in my rectum, my bumhole half closed over it, a sight which sent them into fits of giggles. One went down on me, jiggling the things in my holes as she licked.

Shana moved a little, pushing her cunt into my face and demanding that I make her come. I didn’t need telling, licking as best I could as she rubbed herself on my chin and lips and the nose of my bunny mask. Her hands found my breasts, squeezing hard and pinching at my nipples to set me writhing underneath her, until her moans turned to cries and she came on my face.

I was barely given time to take a breath before Melody replaced Shana, spreading her full black bottom in my face and giving it an encouraging wiggle to get me going. My brief glimpse of light had shown the girls all around me, and that it was Bambi Bailey down on my cunt. She was going to make me come, but a moment before I hit my peak she pulled back, giggling. I heard a door bang, and a gravelly, strongly accented voice.

‘Very nice! Mind if I join you?’

It was Buttman Bailey, and I knew what that meant. I was going to be sodomised. Mel had kept her bottom firmly in my face, and all I could manage was a wriggle of protest, but my heart wasn’t really in it anyway. They had me, completely, and the thought of getting that wrinkled old dwarf’s cock up my bottom would be the final, perfect humiliation. He spoke again.

‘I’ve got her bags for her, and it looks like the dirty bitch had been shopping. Look what she bought!’

I didn’t need to see in order to know what it was – my pussy pump.

The girls immediately broke into excited giggling, and even in the condition they’d got me in I felt a sharp stab of embarrassment. A moment more and I felt the suction cup press against my sex, encasing my pussy and sucking. I was sobbing into Mel’s bottom as I felt my cunt start to swell, with the girls giggling over the view as my sex lips grew, bulging fat and shiny within the hard plastic.

What had been in my hole had been sucked out, and was now squashed between the plastic of the suction cup and the puffy, bloated lips of my sex, only to squeeze back up as my cunt grew to full, engorged size and there was nowhere left to go but my hole. I felt fingers trying to burrow in up my bottom and quickly pushed before they could hurt me. The object inside came out with a plop and one of them gave a squeal of joyful disgust.

I could hear sucking noises, Buttman Bailey being brought to erection in some girl’s mouth, and thought about his growing cock and where it was going. Hudson had told me about him, how he always buggered the girls if they’d let him, and in my tight bondage and helpless arousal there was nothing I could do to stop him adding me to his list.

He did, grabbing my thighs and prodding his erection at my bumhole. I felt it touch, and the knuckles of whichever girl was guiding him in. My bumhole was still half open and gave in to the pressure easily, his helmet popping in past my ring and deeper, stuffed unceremoniously into my rectum. The buggering had begun.

They still had the suction cup on my pussy but pulled it free, leaving my fat, blubbery cunt lips wobbling to his thrusts as he used my bumhole.
Fingers
touched my sex, exploring my swollen, straining flesh, probing my hole, knuckling my clit, then a tongue and I was being licked as I was sodomised, and still with my tongue well up Melody’s bottom.

I could picture myself all too easily, my body trussed up like an oven-ready chicken, my face invisible beneath Melody’s big black bottom save for where my rabbit ears stuck out at the top, my tits quivering to Buttman Bailey’s thrusts as he worked himself in my bumhole, my cunt sticking out from the slit of my ridiculous furry pink shorts, bloated and blubbery and fat, my clit a swollen, sensitive bulb as I was licked to ecstasy.

My orgasm swept up as I held the picture in my head, as much pain as ecstasy, my muscles jerking in my bonds and both holes in tight contraction, my pussy empty but my bumhole squeezing on Buttman’s cock, which brought him off. He grunted, thrust deep and I knew he’d spunked in my rectum, bringing me to another peak, higher even than the first. My back arched tight, I pushed my tongue as deep up Melody’s bumhole as it would go and I was riding my ecstasy, a long, agonising moment that ended in a final sharp peak when the cock up my bum was jerked free and thrust into the mouth of whichever one of the Brooklyn Bitches had been licking me.

As I finished, my whole body seemed to fall in on me. They didn’t care, but continued to use me, six eager, drunken sluts, black and white and honey-gold, their pussies and bums in my face, their fingers penetrating me and groping at my flesh, until my entire world had dissolved in a mist of pain and pleasure and sweaty, slippery girl flesh.

Eight

I AWOKE BRUISED,
sore and aching, bright spring sunshine flooding down on to the dirty mattress where they’d had me and where I’d slept, stark naked, although I couldn’t remember at what point they’d stripped me. They had at least untied me too, but my wrists and legs were still covered in rope marks, although as they’d only spanked me by hand my bottom was pristine. All this I discovered as I inspected myself in a cracked mirror, before taking stock of my surroundings.

The room I was in was almost completely bare, with no carpet and no other furnishings besides the mattress and mirror, although the floor was littered with the debris of the night before: bottles, cigarette ends, bits of candle including two small, ball-shaped ones which must have been what they put up me, and my pussy pump. I retrieved it, my head still too fuzzy to think properly as I began to search for a bathroom.

It was only a small flat, with five rooms, in one of which Shana and Felicita lay together on another grubby mattress, cuddled into each other’s arms with an empty bottle of vodka on the floor beside them. Nobody else was around, allowing me to wash in peace as the water was fortunately still on, although freezing cold. That woke me up properly and helped to clear
my
thoughts, although I was still in a muddle over the whole thing, resentful for the way they’d used me, yet grateful too, because every time I thought about it a shiver of excitement ran through me.

I could vaguely remember Buttman Bailey saying he had my bags for me, but I couldn’t find them, or anything else except my bunny costume. I pulled it on, because the air was a little chilly, went to the window and stood staring out over the rooftops of Brooklyn, wondering what to do. I had to get back to Hudson’s apartment, eventually, but my purse, credit cards and phone were in my handbag. Whatever they’d done to me I hadn’t imagined they’d steal my stuff, if only because Melody had been there and while she may be a sadistic bitch she’s also my friend. I couldn’t say the same for either Shana or Felicita, both of whom had used me mercilessly. They were fast asleep and I really didn’t want to wake them, but I seemed to have little choice.

Returning to their room, I gave Felicita’s shoulder a gentle shake. She groaned and snuggled closer to Shana. I shook her again and she opened one bleary eye.

‘Penny?’ she croaked. ‘What do you want? I’m tired.’

‘Do you know where my things are?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she grunted. ‘Go away. Let me sleep.’

‘I need to get my things, Felicita! At least tell me where the Baileys live.’

‘Upper East Side.’

‘Upper East Side? The Upper East Side of what?’

‘The Upper East Side of the Upper East Side,
putita
. Apartment seventy-one, Lord North Buildings, East One Hundred and Fourth Street. Now fuck off!’

‘In Manhattan?’

‘No, on the fucking moon!’

She said something in Spanish, undoubtedly rude, then put her hand to her head, wincing, and closed her eyes. I stood up, wondering if she’d let me borrow her phone, but it didn’t seem likely she even had one on her. She was still in her Brooklyn Bitches outfit, or at least the skirt, which was rucked up around her waist to leave her full golden bottom sticking out. The temptation to smack her was considerable, but I knew it would only end in trouble, and I didn’t dare wake Shana, so I left them alone and went back into the main room.

One advantage of New York is that you can see the towers of Manhattan from just about anywhere. They were visible from the window, although depressingly far away. Yet there was no choice. I was going to have to walk back, dressed as I was. Still I hesitated, barely able to take in the hideous embarrassment of walking halfway across New York dressed as a sexualised bunny rabbit. For maybe half an hour I just stood there, hoping Hudson and Jemima or even Buttman Bailey would turn up, before plucking my courage up and leaving the flat.

Even as I stepped out of the door the blood was rushing to my face, a rich pink blush that grew stronger with every step as I moved out from the alley and on to a proper street. There were people everywhere, and all of them seemed to be staring at me, but there was nothing whatsoever I could do save put one foot in front of the other and make for the distant towers.

My watch was with the rest of my things, so I had no idea how long I walked, but it seemed like weeks, street after street, every one of which seemed to be crowded. By the time I got to the river I’d heard fifty-six jokes about Jessica Rabbit, had twelve men ask if they could play Bugs Bunny opposite me, and been hooted at by more cars than I could have counted.

I did at least finally get to cross the Brooklyn Bridge, even if it was in a furry pink bunny costume that left every contour of my bottom and breasts on plain show to what seemed to be an improbably large and unreasonably interested gang of spectators. On the opposite shore it was worse, with tourists to add to my woes, and every single one of them with a camera. By the time I reached Hudson Street I’d had my photo taken maybe a thousand times, mostly from behind, and been asked to pose by Americans, British, Japanese, Germans and a group of Australian gay leathermen visiting Greenwich Village. Kunstmann’s wrinkly, somewhat pompous face was one of the most welcome sights I’d ever seen.

‘Let me in, quickly please,’ I demanded.

‘You’ve missed them, I’m afraid,’ he answered, ‘but you’d better come inside.’