Frog (8 page)

She didn't ask about protection, though she knew she should. She didn't tell him she was a virgin, as she was more ashamed than proud of this fact, at the age of 22. Averting her face, Jane gritted her teeth and waited for the pain she was sure would accompany his amateur thrusts. Instead, she felt his hand, fingers wet with his own spit, probing, opening her, massaging the sensitive folds above her entrance. Startled by the zings of sensation his hand caused, her eyes opened and she saw him intent upon her. She blushed as her eyes were drawn to his groin, where his erection was ample evidence of his desire. She closed her eyes again as he massaged his own cock, rock hard, though not very large, and then she felt him press it against her, slowly at first, attempting to gauge her reaction.

It did hurt as it pressed in, but not nearly as much as she had feared. The initial slight tearing of flesh made her gasp and, afraid Brian would realize he was deflowering a virgin, she forced herself to smile at him. She moaned a little, like she thought she was supposed to. All of this was wasted on Brian, who was intent on one thing as he began to move, grunting a little as he shifted on top of her. It was over rather quickly. He kissed her neck for a few moments and then rolled

off her, tucking his cock back inside his briefs, quickly zipping his jeans. He asked her if it had been good for her, and she assured him it had been wonderful. He didn't notice the smear of blood and she felt sure her secret was intact, even if she no longer was.

After that she felt more confident, and looked forward to their Saturday night dates, which would invariably end with him quickly fucking her and then taking his leave. It wasn't that the sex was especially fulfilling; she never orgasmed with him – but she felt more like a woman. Someone wanted her at least, though she couldn't figure out why. After a few months, things petered out and she decided with her usual fatalistic sensibility that she didn't particularly care.

Jane was not a person in touch with her feelings. She pretty much let life happen to her and usually had decided in advance that it wasn't going to go her way and there was nothing she could do about it, so she would just get on with things and not think about it too hard.

Jane was not romantic. But still, there was a boy once, Tom Dillon, in twelfth grade, who had made her heart sing with desire, who had made her damp between her legs. They would kiss in his car until their lips were chapped and crashing together. She never let him go further, though now she wished she had. He was the boy she still thought of during those rare times when she masturbated alone in her efficiency apartment. He was the one she could orgasm to, but he was long gone. Her only true love, as she thought of him, but he too had grown tired of her. She wasn't cool enough or wild enough to suit him and he had moved on, leaving her heart broken and more closed and guarded than ever.

But the real reason she almost looked forward to Robert's rape was because he had told her it would be in his bed. He said he didn't want to fuck her in her room on the hard floor. He would take her in the master bed.

Brenda brought her there, her grip tight on Jane's upper arm as she steered her along the plush carpeted hallway. She pushed her along in front of her as they entered, and Jane suddenly felt like a concubine in

some medieval tale, being brought by the royal steward as an offering to the king.

Brenda forced Jane to kneel in front of Robert, who was lying resplendent in his hairy nudity atop the satin sheets, cock already in hand and hard as rock.

As Robert fondled himself, Brenda sat on the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to stroke his cock for him. They ignored the naked young woman at their feet for a moment. Jane dared to look around the room. It was beautiful, decorated in teal blues and greens. It was bigger than Jane's whole apartment!

Furtively she glanced around, noticing a large low vanity of cherry maple with a huge round mirror set above it. Strewn casually over its surface were any number of beautiful pairs of earrings and glittering bracelets. One bracelet in particular caught her eye; it seemed to be encrusted with diamonds and rubies set in what must be platinum. It was the loveliest thing Jane had ever seen.

Her attention was diverted from the jewels when Robert said, "Come here, frog. It's your lucky day at last." He held out his hand, beckoning her to him and, knowing she had no choice, Jane rose and sat tentatively on the edge of the bed. She averted her face; she was uncomfortable and embarrassed to see Robert naked like this.

She was also very nervous, knowing he was going to 'fuck' her now, and with Brenda watching and no doubt keeping a running commentary. Her face was impassive though, as she lay down at their command, barely taking up any room on the huge bed. Jane was finally beginning to learn to mask her feelings, her face as blank as a slate.

They were under the impression that Jane was a virgin, and Jane wasn't about to disabuse them. In fact, in spirit she
was
a virgin, having never been truly 'claimed' by a man. Now she lay quietly, passively, waiting for whatever was coming. She had been training herself in relaxation techniques, though she didn't know that was what she was doing. It was really a matter of survival, of keeping her sanity in an insane situation.

She would mentally shut out what was going on; she would leave, 'fly away' as she thought of it. Her mind would zone out on what was happening to her body. She could still feel the pain, of course, but somehow she was able to control that edge of terror. She was learning to cope, she realized, with her bizarre situation.

She was a little frightened of Robert's huge cock, but less so than by a whipping or beating. At least a woman's body was made for this, she reasoned with herself. And she had been allowed out of her room and onto this heavenly bed! She had grown used to her hard, cramped cage and could fall off to sleep with little trouble now. This bed seemed impossibly soft. The sheets were crisp and cool. A maid had probably put these sheets on just this morning, expertly tucking in the corners and then smoothing it down with a practiced hand. Someone who came into this house. Someone who obviously didn't know they kept a prisoner locked in a tiny room! Someone who might help her escape? Someone who might have her own set of keys…

Brenda snapped her back to reality by saying, "You're really lucky to get my Robert. He's the best. I only let him fuck cum-sluts like you because you're nothing more than dirt. A piece of ass for us to use and abuse. So, piece of ass, today Robert feels like fucking you. And I'm going to sit on your face and make sure you stay good and still for him."

Robert watched appreciatively as Brenda took off her silky gown, revealing her large well-shaped form. Brenda was a 'real woman' in his estimation, not like this skinny kid they had abducted. Still, as slaves went, she
was
responsive. He dimly realized this was part of Brenda's particular ire against her. She was too sexual, though he didn't think frog even knew it herself yet.

Brenda straddled Jane's face and warned, "If you protest, frog, I'll put you
under
the bed for a week, with no food. And don't think I'm kidding." She shifted her weight, positioning herself so that Jane was pinned beneath her. Taking Jane's arms, she held them tightly at the wrists. Jane shuddered uncontrollably beneath her, but Brenda didn't care. Jane was just an object for their amusement.

Brenda looked over at her husband and said, "She's ready, darling." Jane's eyes were screwed tight and her mouth was bunched in an asterisk of protest. Brenda's heady musk pervaded her nostrils as she squatted over the hapless woman, letting her private parts rest on Jane's upturned face. Jane believed her threat about going under the bed, and didn't try to move away, though she felt revulsion rising in her like a tide.

She was distracted by Robert, who straddled her lower half. She felt his thick, heavy fingers press inside of her. It hurt; she was dry with fear. He was patient, slowly moving his fingers inside of her and on her sensitive vulva, calming her, arousing her body even as her mind continued its silent protest. When he decided she was wet enough, he leaned over her, entering her slowly, pressing one thigh between hers, forcing her open with his long, thick cock.

Jane yelped as he filled her, her cry muffled by Brenda's pussy mashed against her mouth. The initial pain was soon replaced with a dull pressure, a fullness that wasn't actually painful once her vaginal walls adjusted around the rock hard cock inside of her. Robert began to move slowly, taking his time. He paced himself, giving the girl a chance to adjust to each ratchet of intensity.

When he felt her yielding beneath him, he began to pick up the tempo, loving the feel of her impossibly tight pussy clenched around his cock. Moaning, he arched and thrust into her, getting a deep thrill from fucking another woman while his wife sat on her face, slowly grinding her pussy against the unwilling young woman who writhed beneath them.

For Jane, something unexpected was happening. She had been waiting for the pain of his entrance, and then enduring the onslaught, praying for him to come as fast as possible. But instead, the pressure was somehow transmuting to a pulsing pleasure inside of her. If only this woman's cunt weren't covering her face, forcing her to breathe in the sexual fumes. Jane arched convulsively, her own body out of control as it responded to Robert's expert movements.

With a loud moan, he came hard into her, kissing his wife's mouth as he did so. Brenda bit his lip, hard, as she came from her own

thrusting on poor Jane's mouth. Jane was nothing more than a fuck mat underneath the lovers. Her own impending orgasm was stymied; this wasn't about her.

When they finished with her, they pushed her to the foot of the bed and held her there with their feet. She lay still, her pussy sore, orgasm denied, body aching. But the bed was so soft! And the sheets were like silk caressing her bare skin. Amazingly, she fell asleep, right along with her tormentors.

***

It felt odd to be wearing clothing after all this time, however scanty. Just a few short weeks ago, being forced to parade in this getup would have thoroughly embarrassed and humiliated Jane. She realized dimly that something was wrong, that she was becoming too indifferent, too willing to obey every command with barely a thought about it. Her main preoccupation was with avoiding pain and getting food. Just like an animal. A part of her whispered,
wake up, Jane. You're losing yourself; they're winning!
But she was too tired, or too afraid, usually, to listen. She would think about it later.

Today she was dressed up like a cheap streetwalker. Black stockings and garters, high stiletto heels that she had trouble balancing in, black leather garters and a black bra that was too big on her. Brenda had cut out small circles in the center so Jane's nipples were visible. She wore black crotchless panties. As a final touch, Brenda was applying heavy makeup. "Hold still," she ordered as Jane wobbled on her heels. Brenda was carefully brushing on a thick smear of blue eye shadow. With eyeliner, mascara, deep red lipstick and plenty of rouge, Jane looked garish and haggard. Brenda swept her hair up in a French twist, but tendrils of the flyaway uncooperative hair kept slipping from its pins.

Brenda stood back and looked her over. "Perfect slut," she said, admiring her own work. The contrast to her own subtly applied makeup and elegant silk pantsuit was lost on neither of them. Let Robert see quality and trash, she thought. He would choose the trash though, because he basically was a slut too, but Brenda didn't mind. Let him rut with this whore and then sleep in
her
bed. She'd give him

as many little sluts as he wanted. As long as the end of the day found him with her.

She nodded toward the camera in the corner of the room, certain that Robert had been watching the preparations. Sure enough, he came sauntering in a few minutes later. "Well, what have we here?" he asked, acting surprised. "Where did you pick up this two dollar piece of trash?" Brenda smiled with satisfaction and pushed Jane forward.

"Show him what you got, girl. And tell him how much you cost."

Jane turned around and bent over, as Brenda had instructed her to do. Obediently she pulled the crotchless panties aside to show Robert her ass and pussy. Then she said, "Five dollars, sir." Robert laughed, hugely enjoying the cruel joke.

"Five dollars! That's a rip-off! I won't pay a penny over two!" Fishing in his pocket, Robert actually pulled out two crumpled bills and threw them at Jane. She felt a creep of indignation but a look from Brenda sent her back to that dangerous zone of complete compliance.

"Here's what you're going to do, whore. You can have the money, but you have to earn it. You take those dollars and go to the wall there. You have to hold them in place with your forehead, while the john here does whatever he wants to you. If the dollars stay in place, you get to keep them. If they fall, you get a whipping. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Jane nodded, bending down to retrieve the bills. Slowly she hobbled on the tall heels to the wall, the bills clutched in her hand. Dutifully she placed them against the wall and leaned her forehead against it. Maybe she'd get some food for this. She hadn't eaten yet that day.

Robert came up behind her. Reaching his arms around her, he tweaked her nipples and then twisted them till they stood erect. "Give me clamps, Bren," he said, and Brenda went to get the nipple clamps. Reaching around, he secured first one and then the other to Jane's nipples. They bit into tender flesh, wrenching a gasp of pain from Jane. But still she managed to keep her head pressed against the wall.

After a moment, her body was able to adjust to the pinch on her nipples. Robert took the chain between them and pressed it against her mouth. "Hold onto this with your teeth," he ordered. She bit down. What a picture she made, dressed in her garters and stockings, red nipples poking through the black leather, compressed by the wicked silver clamps, pulled up by the chain held in her teeth.

Robert pressed against her, unzipping his pants so he could free his ever hard cock. Because of her stiletto heels, he was at just the right height to fuck her from behind. Ripping aside the flimsy black fabric of her panties, he pressed a finger and then two into her cunt. Forcing the moisture with his skilled touch, he then put his cock at her entrance, and holding her, pushed his penis into her.