Fulfillment in Humiliation

Author: Jomadi, Copyright 2000 by Jomadi

(Mm/f, m/f, anal, ws, mild zoo, D/s, spankl)

Warning: This is a work of fiction. Please do not read it if you are offended by sexually explicit imagery. Forward constructive comments or criticism to the author. As with all artistic or intellectual works, this work is under copyright from the moment it is produced in a fixed medium (which includes computer storage).

Part 1

"Where the hell did you get this?" Sheila demanded.

"I purchased it from Carl in your Biology class," Neil said quietly. He knew she would be horrified, but he was determined with his tone to keep her rational. "Easy now, don't get too upset until you've heard the whole story."

"The WHOLE story?" Sheila whined. Her round cheeks wore a crimson blush, and tears threatened to flow from her eyes. She managed to look into Neil's blue, steady eyes, but it was as difficult at looking at the television screen. Finally she decided to gaze at her own feet -- the alternative she chose in most awkward situations in her young life.

The two high school seniors sat on the couch in Neil's cozy recreation room.

His parents had gone for the weekend, leaving him the run of the house. When the strong, blond young man had asked Sheila to visit him that weekend, she'd thought it either a dream come true or a cruel prank.

Sheila was not the most popular young lady at school. She was bookish and introverted. Her frame was a bit more plump than most of the shallow students considered ideal; her hips were too wide, her thighs were too full.

She wore her wavy brown hair long with little elaborate styling, and she self-consciously covered her mouth when she laughed to hide her imperfect teeth. She had briefly caught the popular Neil's attention when she tutored him for Trigonometry, but because of his distance from her socially he soon found that small bond they'd developed impossible to maintain. When Carl showed him the videotape, however, he'd decided to re-establish a relationship.

Neil put a hand on Sheila's arm to genuinely comfort her. "Carl and Fisk were out raising hell in their subdivision one night and videotaping the whole thing," he explained. "They wandered over into your neighborhood and.... well, presto," he said, indicating the grainy, but recognizable images playing on the television. Sheila was quietly crying and wringing her hands in her lap.

"Fuck it, I'm so ruined," she said with a sob. "Can you imagine what school will be like now? I got shit everyday anyway. With this..."

"This tape is mine now. There are no other copies," Neil said flatly. Sheila looked at him hopefully with tear-filled eyes. Neil managed a slight smile, quite out of character with his normally stoic demeanor. "And Carl and Fisk won't be speaking of this incident. I have made sure of that," he continued coldly.

"What... how...?" Sheila stammered.

"I didn't kill them or anything," Neil smirked. "I just have a great deal of shit on them. I have a great deal of shit on everyone at school. That's just what happens when you don't open your mouth much, keep your ears open and don't drink to excess." There was a flash of admiration in Sheila's eyes. Initially, it was on an intellectual level that Neil had first surprised her during his tutoring. He had a cold, dispassionate way of thinking through a situation, and he was much better read than she'd imagined someone with the "in crowd" could be.

"Thank you, I guess," she said with a slight smile. "I guess you must think I'm pretty fucked up now, huh?"

Neil paused the video tape. The screen froze on the grainy image of Sheila sitting on a work-out bench in her parents' basement. She was naked from the waist down, and she was leaning back with her legs spread widely. A squeeze-bottle of honey sat on the floor beside her, and a large golden retriever enthusiastically lapped his tongue between her thighs. The frozen image was from the perspective of, Neil assumed, a basement window high on one wall. Carl and Fisk had acted rather intrepidly in getting the footage, that couldn't be denied.

"As I'm your savior in this situation," Neil began slowly after staring at the screen for a moment, "I think you are at least obligated to discuss this... ah... unusual event with me."

Sheila sniffed and pushed her erratic hair behind her ears. "Sure... whatever. I don't think anything I say could be more fucked up than what you've seen."

"Why then, Sheila?" Neil said, taking her chin gently with his fingers and directing her gaze to him.

"I was horny, I guess," she said with a shrug. "I was tired of doing it myself."

"Did you find the experience with the dog humiliating?" Neil asked clinically.

"What the fuck do you think?" she said, indicating the television screen. "I'm mortified." Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

"No, Sheila," Neil said gently. His light touch on her hair caused her shiver. "What I mean is: did the humiliation and sheer degeneracy of the act add to the erotic situation?" Sheila blinked and furrowed her brow in thought. His question was very insightful.

"Do you mean did I get off on it more because it was so fucked up? Because it was sick and wrong and just plain nasty?" she asked. Neil nodded quietly, his face unreadable. "Christ, I'm so fucking embarrassed," Sheila sighed.

"You can tell me," Neil assured. "If I haven't condemned you because of this tape, then I highly doubt I'm liable to because of a conversation."

Sheila made an exasperated noise. "Fuck it. Yes, I got off on it because it was so fucked up. You want to know the truth? I actually FANTASIZED that someone was watching me with the dog. Can you believe that? I actually laid there and dreamed about how damn humiliating it would be to have someone watch me get off like that." Sheila's eyes darkened. "I should kill Carl and Fisk both," she said after a moment's thought. "I should kill them both slowly."

Neil's amiable laugh startled her. Neil didn't laugh at school. He smiled civilly, he nodded in recognition, and he looked beautiful. He did not, however, express this sort of open emotion. Sheila's depressed mood lifted slightly under his genuinely friendly gaze.

"I'm glad to see you've turned your shame into murderous rage," he said wryly. Sheila smirked and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Besides," Neil continued, "you should be thankful to them for the serendipitous circumstance they've created."

"What do you mean?" Sheila asked.

"I've dated four cheer-leaders, two girls on the track team and just about every one of the 'foundation, lipstick, blush' clique," Neil said frowning. "Three of the cheer-leaders won't swallow semen because it's 'icky', the girls on the track team are worried Jesus will punish them if they do anything but dry hump in a parked car, and I won't even go into the utter, shallow deficiencies of the 'foundation, lipstick, blush' clique." Neil methodically cracked his knuckles, a menacing but annoying habit he couldn't shake.

"Ah... ok, so?" Sheila goaded quietly. Neil's expression had become serious, and she found it terribly intimidating.

"I enjoyed watching that video tape," Neil said slowly. "I've watched it at least four times since yesterday afternoon, though I've only masturbated while doing so twice." Sheila automatically dropped her gaze to the floor. "If I'd known you liked being treated like such a degenerate slut, Sheila," he said carefully, "I'd have established an agreement between us sooner."

Sheila's face felt hot, and she felt slightly dizzy. "I should go," she muttered, but didn't rise from the couch.

"Would you enjoy being humiliated, being told to do disgusting things for our mutual entertainment?" Neil asked with an arched eyebrow.

"I should... I mean, I don't..." Sheila's knuckles were white as she clasped her hands together nervously.

Neil moved closer to her on the couch. "Wouldn't you find my witness more of an erotic thrill than the witness of some dumb animal?" He delicately intertwined his fingers in her hair and turned her head to face him.

"Just say what you mean," she said plaintively. Her eyes wouldn't meet his, and she mechanically chewed on her lower lip.

"Promise to do exactly what I say for the rest of the afternoon," Neil said coldly, "and that video tape will disappear forever. You won't have to think about it ever again."

Sheila didn't bother to think twice over the offer. The pure intimidation of him sitting so close, speaking so imperatively, had aroused some vile, desperate urge in her. She looked at the paused image on the television screen, and felt a depraved pang that was neither fear nor regret.

"I promise to do exactly what you say," she answered.

***

Sheila had complied with his instructions and removed all of her clothing. She was now on her hands and knees in the large, garden tub in Neil's bathroom. She shivered in the cool air, and her large, dark nipples were prominently erect. Against the fingers of one hand, her labia felt slick and swollen. She had felt the sexual thrill arise the moment Neil had directed her to the bathroom.

He returned from the kitchen, carrying something wrapped in a towel. "How does your cunt feel?" he asked bluntly. Neil knew she found it hard to articulate in awkward situations, and he'd found it delightful to compel her to do just that. Her surveyed her ample buttocks and thighs, and he let his eyes trail up her somewhat stocky, but well formed torso. "I asked you a question," he prompted.

The blush on her face and neck was obvious. "It... it feels wet," Sheila managed. Her voice trembled.

"It excites you to perform for me like this then?" he asked blandly. His almost conversational, lukewarm tone unnerved her. Sheila couldn't tell if he was pleased having her like this or not.

"Yes," she answered honestly. So vulnerable did she feel that a single critical word from him would have reduced her to tears. The longer he maintained that he wanted her like this, though, the more arousing it became. She'd not yet allowed her fingers to stray consistently to her clitoris, but already it tingled in anticipation. She slid her fingers together, measuring the slickness glistening on her labia.

"Good. A part of me really wants to just fuck you now," Neil said casually.

There was a quick intake of breath from Sheila. She'd only been with one man before, and that relationship had only lasted a few months. Still, she knew she'd invite Neil's cock into her. "But I want something from you I've never been able to get before," he continued. "I want you to feel like a whore. I want you to feel shamed and dehumanized. And I want you to get off on that."

Sheila's fingers instinctively began to stroke over her swollen clitoris, and she gasped. "Yes," she answered quietly. She did not look up, but she could feel his eyes staring hot and confident at her body.

Neil unwrapped the towel he'd brought, and exposed the object inside. He acquired a jar of petroleum jelly from under the sink and sat down on the edge of the tub. Leaning back slightly, he could easily survey her ample hindquarters. He watched her slick fingers nervously knead her labia and clitoris between her wide thighs. Sheila had a large, pouting vulva with thick labia and a frame of dark hair. She knew she was being scrutinized, and her legs began to tremble slightly.

"You've never been fucked in the ass, have you, Sheila?" Neil asked quietly.

A pang of fear mixed with her growing, atavistic arousal. "No," she whispered.

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass with this," Neil said, holding up a large yellow squash. Inches below the stem, the body of the vegetable flared into a teardrop shape, making it perfect for insertion into the rectum. Sheila glanced up, her eyes nervous, and she shuddered bodily. The squash was large from her perspective, with a body slightly wider at it's maximum than the only real cock she'd ever seen.

"I don't.... know if I can," she said quietly. Her apprehension didn't reach her loins, where her labia still glistened and slid between her fingers. The palm of her hand stroked lightly over her clitoris, and the pleasure sparked up and down her body.

"You can," Neil said, uncapping the jar of petroleum jelly and scooping up an ample dollop on two fingers. Sheila instinctively tensed her anus, and her legs trembled more visibly as a result. "Relax. We'll do this one step at a time."

Sheila nodded, and then jumped slightly at the cold, slimy touch of the jelly between her buttocks. Soon, however, the massaging motion of Neil's fingers upon her anus overcame her hesitation, and she leaned her shoulder down to the edge of the tub to further part her large buttocks. Her fingers dwelled almost exclusively on her turgid clitoris, and she felt a liquid, creeping warmth spread throughout her lower stomach.

"You like having your asshole rubbed," Neil stated. Sheila nodded and her hair spilled down around her face. "I'd like to see you let your dog lick you there," he added in the same tone. A whimper escaped her throat, and she nodded her head again. "We'll do that sometime. We can go down to your basement, you can let me pour some honey down between your buttocks, and then I can watch your dog lap it up off your asshole." Sheila's breath was rapid. Neil smiled slightly, and added, "Would you spread your big ass wide for me so I could see?"

"Yes," Sheila hissed. Her voice was husky and urgent.

"Good," Neil said quietly, and pushed his two slick fingers into her anus. Sheila gasped, and her fingers froze between her thighs. It seemed she could feel Neil's slow probing and exploring in her entire body, and she clenched her muscles down on his fingers.

"I'd like to feel you clamp down on my cock like that there soon," Neil mused. He pushed as gently as possible past the snug ring of muscle and began to gradually work his fingers in and out of her, spreading the petroleum jelly as thoroughly as he could. Eventually Sheila's fingers began to slowly massage her clitoris again, and her breathing returned to a regular pace. "It's not so bad, is it?" Neil asked rhetorically.

"No... just takes getting used to..." Sheila mumbled. It wasn't so bad. There were a few sharp pains as her anus was stretched, but the longer the fingers remained in her, the more accommodating her sphincter seemed to become.

"This won't be as bad as you think," Neil said. Suddenly his fingers were gone from inside her, and her anus flexed around empty air. The sensation was striking, and Sheila's clitoris throbbed at the sudden emptiness. With mild horror she realized the feeling was analogous to emptying one's bowels.

Some dark corner of her mind wondered what it would be like to masturbate while on the toilet like that. With deliberate, careful motions, Neil began to spread petroleum jelly on the larger end of the squash.

"Are you feeling a little vulnerable and ashamed right now?" he asked casually. Sheila nodded. The scatological imagery and her anxiety about the squash pushing into her rectum had rattled her. "Good. I'm going to enjoy seeing you enjoy being fucked in the ass by a vegetable," Neil said with a wink.

Before she had even prepared herself, Neil was squatting in the tub behind her, pressing the large, teardrop-shaped end of the squash between her buttocks. Involuntarily she clenched her anus, and the harsh pressure of the vegetable against her muscles caused of surge of panic in her. "Oh god, Neil, please..." she began.

"Keep rubbing your clit," he said flatly. Without conscious direction, her hand complied, stroking her two middle fingers mechanically over her slick clitoris. Neil applied more pressure to the squash, and Sheila's tight sphincter began to open. Sharp sparks of pain flared in her protesting muscles, and a whimper welled up in her throat. "Push out with your muscles like you're taking a shit," Neil said harshly. It was the most emotion she'd heard from him, besides his laugh, that entire afternoon.

"Neil, please..." she pleaded. Some fear from infancy kept her from complying with his instruction.

"Do it," he ordered. "Push out with your muscles just like you were trying to push something out of you." Sheila bit savagely upon her lower lip, and bore down with her muscles exactly as when she was on the toilet. Almost obscenely, her anus dilated and accepted the tip of the squash into her. Slowly and evenly, Neil pushed the rest of the vegetable past the clinging ring of muscle.

Sheila moaned low and pitifully, and her legs jerked slightly with each sharp pain as her anus snagged on some insufficiently lubricated part of the squash. When the large, ovoid body of the vegetable was almost completely inside her, just as the sharp pains from her anus subsided, a wave of deep, cramping pains began to race across her lower stomach. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and had to remove her hand from between her legs to steady herself.

"Fuck yes," Neil said satisfied. "I knew if we only put our minds to it you could have a big gaping asshole just like that wonderful, gaping cunt of yours." Sheila began to sob quietly. Her face was hot with humiliation, but even more depraved was the way her clitoris throbbed for attention at his words. "Keep stroking your clit," Neil instructed.

Sheila slowly complied, and she felt a strange, dirty delight when she found her labia still sloppily wet and her clitoris still erect and aching. Additionally, there was an odd satisfied fullness that enhanced the hum of pleasure between her legs. Neil was watching her movements carefully. Her legs were still trembling, and the motion of her fingers between her legs caused the stem of the yellow squash, sticking obscenely from the jelly-slicked cleavage of her buttocks, to bob slightly upwards and downwards.

Neil casually touched the end of the stem and gently nudged the squash in rhythm with her fingers. "You like this, don't you? Admit it. It hurt going in, but now that your ass is full, you like the feeling," he coaxed.

"Yes," Sheila choked honestly. She did like the feeling. Neil's gentle manipulations of the large vegetable in her ass were only adding to the desperate urge to make herself orgasm. Accepting her submissiveness, she added, "I think I could cum with your cock like that... if I could touch myself."

"In a while," Neil answered. He stood up from the edge of the tub and began to take down his own pants. "But first, I want to do something I've never been able to..." He took his pants and underwear down to his knees in a single, fluid motion, and his penis bobbed semi-erect. "I want you to know a few things," he said, shuffling over closer to the tub so his cock swayed before her eyes.

Sheila locked her gaze on his beautiful penis, and her fingers ground furiously against her clitoris. The stem of the squash nodded up and down wildly as her hips began to inadvertently join the effort of her fingers.

"I enjoy making you my whore," Neil said. He delicately took his semi-erect penis in his hand. "I think you get off being a completely slut, don't you?"

"Yes," Sheila grunted. There was a building pressure inside her, between her clitoris and her bowels. Her unmanifest orgasm lurked there, and her fingers viciously tried to pull it out into the open.

"If I want to see you fuck your dog, you'll do it for me and get off in the process, won't you?" he asked coldly. Sheila nodded frantically. "If I ask you to suck off Carl and Fisk in the parking lot after school, you'll do it and enjoy it, won't you?"

"Oh, God, yes," Sheila hissed. The image was horribly degrading. Those two fuckers who watched her get off with her dog, the two shits that laughed at her and would have destroyed her at school -- she knew she would gladly suck both of their cocks and let them cum in her mouth with Neil watching. Yes, she found the idea completely humiliating, but she would enjoy it just the same. "Neil, I'm going to cum..." she stammered.

"If I want to piss down your throat and call you a sick, worthless tramp, you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?" Neil smirked, and without warning a stream of urine flowed from his penis and spattered against the side of Sheila's face. She jumped in surprise at the warm splash on her cheek and forehead, and the rolling wave of her orgasm boiled out of her. "Don't turn away," Neil ordered. "Fucking drink it."

Sheila sounded a low, warbling wail as her vagina and sphincter began to flutter and spasm madly. Her clitoris burned and throbbed, and she turned her face towards Neil and opened her mouth comically wide. Immediately he let his urine continue to flow, and the golden liquid spattered across Sheila's fair features and into her mouth. Her loins continued to spasm and twist as she began to exaggeratedly lap her tongue and swallow what she could catch of the young man's urine. The taste was sharp and acrid, but her desperate need to revel in the degenerate moment rendered that inconsequential.

"You're my piss drinking whore," Neil said calmly.

"I'm your piss drinking whore," Sheila replied obediently. His urine continued to spatter on her lips, across her nose and into her hair as a final, vicious wave of pleasure spread from her clitoris throughout the rest of her body. With an urgent, vilely enjoyable effort, Sheila pushed the squash out of her rectum. It landed with a slimy thud between her calves.

The last spurt of Neil's urine soiled Sheila's chin and neck, and then he flapped his organ casually and reached down to pull up his pants. Sheila's body shook, and she gently eased herself down onto her side in the tub. Her mind was clouded from her orgasm, but she found great satisfaction in her dishevelled condition. Her hair and face dripped with urine, and her tongue was heavy with the taste of it. She luxuriated in the obscenely large feel of her vulva and clitoris -- an image left imprinted by Neil's words earlier. She was, for that moment, proud of her ample sex. Her anus felt stretched and open, and she could feel the remnants of the petroleum jelly clinging to her sphincter and caked within her rectum. She closed her eyes, and the world seemed to hum quietly around her.

Neil surveyed what he'd done. He was very pleased. For some reason, he was quite sure that Carl and Fisk would never be allowed to sample Sheila. They were idiots and without imagination or appreciation. No, Neil would only provide the absolute best for Sheila. She would be humiliated and used with panache. Neil glanced at the expelled vegetable lying between her knees.

"You squeezed out more than just that squash," he commented.

"Oh, God..." Sheila mumbled. Her words sounded more impressed than distressed. "Did I shit myself?"

"Not a lot," Neil assessed. "Just be thankful I won't be making you eat that squash." He smiled slightly when Sheila shuddered. "If I did that, I wouldn't want to do this..." he said, kneeling beside her prone form. With a strong grip, he pulled her head up to him by her thick hair, and kissed her urine spattered mouth. It was a kiss of ownership, and he did not recoil when she pushed her tainted tongue into his mouth.

"Now start the shower and clean yourself up," he said after breaking the kiss. "I want to go out and have you seen with me in public."

Sheila nodded obediently.

Part 2

Sheila sat close to Neil on the mall bench, nervously shifting her weight. Before them the parade of unfamiliar faces continued, punctuated by the rustling of shopping bags, the varied conversation of dozens of voices and the strange mixture of smells from the adjacent food court. Despite Neil's explicit instructions, she was having difficulty concentrating on the figures moving to and from before them. A plastic device the size of a large egg was nestled between the muscular walls of her vagina, and an insulated wire ran from between her labia, up past her clitoris and to a small, black box that was tapped just above her pubic hair beneath her clothes.

The presence of the device was distracting enough. Her vagina couldn't help but grip and squeeze at the wide intrusion, and the constant massage of her muscles maintained a perpetual state of low arousal in her body. Even in the car on the way to the mall, she had felt her undergarments becoming damp. The most dramatic effect, though, came when Neil had activated the device when they arrived in the parking lot. He had allowed it to vibrate for only twenty seconds or so, but she could feel the powerful, insistent waves move completely through her. The experience had made the back of her teeth tickle, her stomach flutter with butterflies and her clitoris ache urgently for more direct attention. She didn't know if she could keep her composure in public for very long under those circumstances.

Neil shifted on the bench and produced the small, gray one-button control. "It's from a garage door opener, believe it or not," he said casually.

"That brings to mind weird images about what's inside me," Sheila said quietly. She watched him carefully handle the control box. A part of her desperately wanted to be back alone with Neil at his house, but her excited curiosity about his plans in public couldn't be denied. She only prayed that events at the mall that day would not destroy her life at school. Neil had eliminated one such threat, but he had the power to create another.

"That's just a store-bought 'bullet' vibrator," he explained. "It is at least one of the better ones. A lot of power to the motor. My innovation was to break open the control box for that and install the receiver." With a gesture he indicated the black box tapped beneath her clothes to her lower stomach.

"And why are we here?" Sheila asked slowly. Neil smiled only slightly and pressed the remote control button.

Immediately the muscles in Sheila's pelvis, thighs and stomach knotted, and she felt the uncompromising throbbing ripple from within her. She pressed her legs together tightly and leaned forward in her seat, sucking a couple of quick gasps of air before she was able to steady her breathing. Like a maddening, unreachable itch, the device purred against the walls of her vagina, and they in turn transferred that vibration up through the flesh to her clitoris. She even felt as if the liquid in her bladder was dancing to the device's song, but the sudden phantom urge to urinate only seemed to increase the stimulation teasing her clitoris.

She knew her cheeks were obviously flushed, and she glanced around nervously. Most passers-by hadn't noticed the young girl's sudden reaction, and those few that did politely ignored what they apparently thought was minor ailment. Though she could feel the vibration almost throughout her body, she judged that the device was inaudible outside of her -- at least under the low, consistent drone of the mall.

"That's pretty distracting, isn't it?" Neil said scanning the crowd slowly.

"Fuck yes, it's distracting," Sheila hissed as quietly as she could manage. She placed a hand on his knee to steady herself, and Neil felt satisfaction at the firm, nervous grip he felt. She wasn't attracting undo attention with her uncomfortable posture, but he could tell the device was having a profound effect.

"Do you think you could walk like that?" he asked.

Sheila glanced at him with wide eyes. "Don't make me do that," she pleaded quietly. "Even when it's not turned on, I can feel it grinding inside of me when I walk. I don't think I could go more than a few steps with it on."

"Then you're comfortable just sitting here and fighting down an orgasm the rest of the day?" he asked. She looked away from him. Her face was flushed with both the stimulation of the device and the embarrassment of her predicament. Finally, with a pitiful look in her eyes, she shook her head in the negative. Neil put an arm around her and pulled her close next to him, eliciting a small gasp from her as her body changed position slightly. "I'm willing to compromise," he said cooly. "There are a lot of lonely men here at the mall. Have you been watching the crowd like I asked?"

Sheila's eyes stung slightly, but she refused to openly cry in front of any stranger that walked past. "Some," she muttered.

"This is what is going to happen," Neil began slowly. "I'm going to shut the device off for the time you are busy finding a man, any man, to please in some way while I watch." With every syllable he spoke, the throbbing inside her seemed to grow stronger. "If I think you aren't being sincere in your efforts, I'll reactivate the device and leave you standing in the middle of the mall hunched over and with your legs pressed together like you have to pee." He smiled slightly, "If my patience wears out while you're trying, however sincerely, I'll do that anyway."

Sheila's legs were beginning to visibly tremble. "How am I supposed to explain this to a man?" she asked nervously. "How am I supposed to even get a guy to the point where he'll let you watch? Where am I supposed to go to please him?!" Her voice was anxious and in danger of carrying too far.

Neil placed his hand over hers and squeezed harshly. Sheila's body temporarily ceased its nervous jitter, but her eyes became heavy with unspilled tears. "You'll just have to be direct, won't you?" he said harshly. Sheila nodded sheepishly. Inside, her vaginal muscles desperately clamped around the vibrating device as if to prevent its action. This only served to emphasize the indirect stimulation of her bladder and clitoris, however. "Now make me proud," Neil concluded. "And do not forget I need to witness how you please this man."

The lack of sensation when the device was deactivated was almost surreal. Desperate, aching pangs throbbed throughout Sheila's pelvis. It was as if her body were trying to replace the vibrating song it suddenly missed. The device still nestled firmly and obviously inside her, however, and the strong sensation to urinate only diminished slightly. Without gentleness, Neil coaxed her to her unsteady feet and urged her to begin her search. Slowly, hesitantly, Sheila began to shuffle into the anonymous crowd looking for some man, any man, that might possibly let her fulfill her mission while Neil looked on. She prayed it would be one she could stomach.

***

She was failing miserably. For the fifth time, a man turned away from her with a disturbed and embarrassed expression. She knew she was plain looking, but the consistent reactions had to be from her awkward and brusque proposal. She was never particularly good with words, and her lack of rhetorical skill was quickly proving to be her undoing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Neil standing by a coffee shop, sipping a latte and watching her impatiently.

Scanning the crowd, she saw a skinny man in jeans and a tattered T-shirt trying to eat nachos while carefully making his way to one of the benches that lay at intervals throughout the mall. Quickly, she moved after him, her stride deliberate so Neil could clearly see she hadn't given up. At this particular cluster of shops, the crowd was dense. She wanted to be sure he wouldn't suddenly reactivate the device.

The man mumbled his consent around a bite of nachos when Sheila asked if she could sit on the bench next to him. He seemed disinterested in her, and he obviously didn't care if his eating habits were polite or not.

"I'm Sheila," she began uncertainly. The man looked her over with mild surprise. He was probably in his 30's, and based on his dress he looked to be out of work.

"Bob," he grunted, but didn't offer his hand.

"So... do you live around here, Bob?" she said as casually as she could manage.

Neil watched these events dispassionately. Despite Sheila's perceptions, he was far from impatient. He thoroughly enjoyed watching her nervously approach men, waiting for the eventual bow of her head, as if her hair could hide her face, when she finally broached the topic of what she wanted. He'd nearly chuckled aloud when the first man, who it turned out was waiting for his daughter in a nearby store, clearly mouthed the words "What's your fucking problem" and walked away in disgust. The next two men had apparently had reason, genuine or not, to leave before she could even get to the actual proposal. Neil didn't think Sheila was such a bad conversationalist, but then, they had interesting topics about which to talk. The fourth man, wearing a snappy button-down shirt and slacks, had seemed interested. He'd leaned close to her, listening intently and glancing around nervously. But when Sheila had nodded in Neil's direction, Neil had met the man's eyes. The man surely would have taken Sheila out to his car, say, alone, but he didn't have the stomach for Neil's presence. He'd shaken his head finally and left Sheila standing there. The fifth man was much like the first, rejecting Sheila's proposal outright. Things did seem to be proceeding with the sixth man, however. Neil found him a rather dishevelled character, but he was at least listening to her proposal.

Sheila blinked and furrowed her brow. Her clitoris was still sending hungry messages to her brain, and the man's response to her proposal seemed to lack any coherency what so ever.

The man smiled a sincere, nacho cheese stained smile. "I know you're having a tough time as a young woman, but this isn't the way to fill that hole in your heart. Jesus is the answer," he reiterated. Sheila just stared at the man. "Look. You look like a nice, studious young woman. I have a study group I hold... mostly good, understanding folks from the Church of Christ downtown..."

"Excuse me," a hesitant voice said behind Neil. Neil turned from watching Sheila and the nacho eater and faced the fourth man Sheila had approached, the one with the snappy, baby-blue button-down shirt and slacks.

"Well," Neil began, "It's good to see you again." The man looked embarrassed, but he stood his ground. He'd already committed to coming back and speaking to Neil directly.

"My name's Steven Sommers," he said in a low voice. "I just wanted to know if... ah..." His hands made a small, vague gesture before him.

"If we were serious?" Neil completed. Steven nodded. Neil smiled slightly and reassured him. "We are quite serious. Are you interested?"

"Yes, very," Steven said slowly. He looked to be in his late twenties and was handsome in a traditional, boyish way. Neil immediately liked him for his courage in returning. "I just... thought maybe it was some kind of set-up earlier, you know? But I watched from over by the Gap store, and I saw her approach this other guy..." He let his words trail off. Neil nodded decisively.

"Do you have a place nearby?" he asked. Steven's nod brought a wry smile to Neil's lips. He slipped his hands into his jacket pocket and felt the plastic of the small, grey remote control. "I think we three will get along fine," Neil said, and he activated the control.

The sudden, frantic spasms lasted only one minute, but in that time Sheila had pitched forward, nearly knocking the nachos from the lap of the ad hoc evangelist. The man looked horrified and startled by the contact, but Sheila couldn't find the focus to move back to her side of the bench. The device had activated suddenly, and her clitoris immediately joined in with its own needful hum. Her inner thighs were already sticky and hot, and Sheila had begun to feel the moisture trickle from between her labia to between her buttocks. She was seconds from an orgasm born as much by desperation as by stimulation when the buzzing device ceased operation.

Her face felt terribly hot again, and a thin sheen of sweat had collected spontaneously upon her brow. Sheila looked directly into the face of the startled Samaritan and frowned harshly. "Fuck you," she spat with genuine anger and began to rise from the bench. Her legs felt like liquid, however, and she couldn't manage to actually stand.

"What are you doing with our sister?" Neil said firmly. The nacho eater turned, and he faced Neil and Steven with a blank look. Once Neil had decided that Steven represented the best candidate in evidence, he had moved quickly.

"I... she..." the nacho eater stammered. He couldn't think of where to begin.

"Help her up," Neil instructed Steven, and the man obeyed quickly. He was still nervous, and his eyes darted continually, checking for danger. It didn't matter, Neil thought. He'd settled on Steven based on his intrepidity, and he was quite sure Steven would prove adequate. "Look, mister," Neil said addressing the man with the nachos. "She's off her medication. So whatever she said, forget it. I know you didn't mean any harm just sitting here, but we need to get her home now." The man nodded mutely, and Steven managed to get Sheila to her feet. The three of them left the dumbfounded evangelist behind on the bench with his nachos.

In the car, Steven sat in the backseat with Sheila. He was unusually gentle with her, and she appreciated his kindness. There was an almost paternal bearing to Steven, Neil thought, and it made an interesting juxtaposition to Neil's own sometimes cold demeanor. He sat behind the wheel without starting the engine and listened to Steven's quite, gentle compliments to Sheila. After a few moments, Neil reactivated the vibrator inside her.

"Oh, shit," Sheila whined, and she clutched at Steven's neat shirt desperately. Her body was desperate to orgasm, and she could feel her lips and cheeks growing numb. "Neil, I need to cum," she said without removing her eyes from Steven.

"Christ, she wasn't kidding earlier, was she?" Steven said.

"She's got a vibrator shoved up into her cunt," Neil said flatly. Something about Steven's demeanor for the past few moments in the car bothered him. It wasn't anything he could pin down concretely, but he was sure that Steven had some secondary motive besides sexual gratification. Neil wished to see Sheila used just for that, ruthlessly and emotionlessly, and it disconcerted him to think that another factor was at work. "Steven, why did you feel compelled to come and approach me after having once turned down Sheila's generous offer?" he asked slowly.

Steven looked at the flushed, desperate face of the girl next to him. Her legs were pressed tightly together, and her knuckles were white as she clutched at the front of his shirt. Her wavy, brown hair had become matted with sweat along her forehead, and she held her lower lip between her teeth in a grip that he knew would soon bring blood. "She said she'd do anything for me," Steven answered finally. "After a few minutes, I figured that meant you were all right watching almost anything." He gently stroked Sheila's cheek, bringing a whimper from the girl's throat.

"And what exactly is it that you want?" Neil asked guardedly. With a mechanical motion, he deactivated the device, and Sheila began to sob and curse bitterly from the backseat. When Steven answered, Neil looked at him in the rear view mirror.

"I underestimated you, Steven," Neil said quietly.

***

In the small house Steven rented, both he and Neil observed their handiwork.

Sheila had been stripped of her clothes, and her wrists bound behind her with duct tape. The tape wound from just above her fingers in a tight, flat gray spiral almost to her elbows. They had permitted her forearms to remain in a narrow 'V' shape, meeting down at the wrists, in order to avoid hurting her shoulders. It was a secure arrangement, and Sheila hadn't bothered to struggle unduly against the bonds when she was carried to Steven's large bed and placed onto her stomach. The vibrator had stayed buried deep inside her vagina, and the receiver box remained against her lower stomach, now fixed with a fresh layer of tape.

Neil sat casually in a computer chair by Steven's home office. "Sheila, you did understand what Steven said in the car, didn't you?"

"Yes," the girl said quietly. Her face was almost buried in the pillows, and she didn't bother to glance up when Steven began to audibly rummage in his closet.

"Do you want to say anything?" Neil prompted.

"I just want to orgasm," she whimpered. Neil watched her pale, ample buttocks shake as she began to quietly sob. The glistening, thick remains of her excitement could clearly seen in the shadow between her wide thighs. Neil knew his inconsistent use of the device, and the presence of the inert device itself, had taken a toll on Sheila. Perhaps that's why she'd not resisted Steven's desire.

"You want an orgasm what?" Neil said impatiently.

Sheila turned her red, wet face toward Steven, who now stood in front of the closet holding the heavy leather belt he'd been seeking. "I want an orgasm, Daddy," she said pitifully. Neil smiled at Steven's sharp intake of breath, and the man's hands shook nervously as he hefted the belt.

"Oh, God. Say it again," Steven whispered. He folded the belt in half and gathered the two loose ends in one fist.

"I want an orgasm, Daddy," Sheila repeated mournfully. Steven looked at Neil, and the younger man slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and activated the device clasped within the walls of Sheila's much tormented vagina. The girl's sobs sputtered into a series of gasps, and her legs fixed themselves rigidly straight out, pressing her pelvis into the mattress and tightening her fleshy buttocks into ripe, perfect targets for Steven. When Neil nodded slightly, Steven did not hesitate.

He must practice this on a pillow all the time, Neil thought as the first sharp report of leather on flesh filled the room. Sheila was initially startled by the fierce contact, but quickly the caustic pain flared in her buttocks. Her grunt was primal and on the edge of panic, but it quickly became a low wail as a second savage blow landed across the pink stripe left by the first.

"Oh, wait... stop..." Sheila stammered, but Steven's draconian rhythm continued. His third strike with the belt was particularly well timed, and the sickening crack of leather on skin made even Neil wince. Sheila stopped mid-breath, and her legs began to tremble uncontrollably. A fourth blow landed, and Sheila's breath returned bearing words of pure panic. "No, no, no... I changed my mind..." she gibbered and began to roll herself over.

"I wouldn't do that, Sheila," Neil said casually, but it was too late. She completed her roll and lay facing upwards upon her own bound arms. Steven barely broke his rhythm, but this time the blow landed across Sheila's left breast. Sheila's scream was harsh and short, and she hardly noticed when the warm, yellow stream of urine sprayed from her urethra and across the inside of her thighs. Steven landed another blow across her left breast, and Sheila began to hyperventilate, desperately trying to force her body back over onto her stomach. She finally managed to roll back over, her mouth gaping absurdly like a landed fish and her urine spraying heedlessly.

"Little girl pissed the bed," Steven hissed, raising his arm for another strike. His face was flushed, and his brow glistened with sweat. His penis also was evidently very erect, for his nice, conservative slacks bulged obviously out from his lap. The belt landed soundly again across Sheila's buttocks, but the girl had only enough strength to maintain her ragged, desperate breathing.

Sheila thought she would die. As the whipping continued and the tears rolled down her cheeks, she silently prayed that her consciousness would give out. Her breast had fortunately gone numb for some reason, but the fire across her buttocks was still fresh. Moreover, there was not enough time to assimilate one burst of pain before the next was upon her. She couldn't even manage to scream -- she hadn't enough breath left. Perhaps most insidiously, that damned thing pushed into her cunt kept humming away, forcing her muscles to churn and spasm. Even while she knew her flesh was surely being torn and ravaged, the moisture oozed from inside her, and her clitoris throbbed subtly but insistently. She desperately hoped Steven had torn the skin from her buttocks. At least in that case, she might bleed enough to pass out. She might lose enough blood so they would have to take her to the hospital.

Steven hadn't so much as broken the skin on her smooth buttocks, however. Her flesh was covered with angry red streaks, and no doubt the bruising was deep and substantial. Even after two dozen strokes of the belt, there was no physical reason for him to stop whipping her as savagely as he liked. After thirty strokes, however, his aim became sloppy, and he knew it was time to finish with her. Steven's arm was stiff and tired, and his cock was insistent and slick with pre-ejaculate inside of his pants. Without fanfare or warning, he tossed the belt to the floor.

"What do you say to Daddy, little girl?" he asked between quick breaths. He managed to get his trousers unfastened, and he let them drop around his ankles. Sheila still wheezed pathetically and could not manage to form a word. Steven stepped out of his pants and mounted the bed on his knees. "What do you say to Daddy, little girl?" he demanded again.

"I want to orgasm, Daddy," Sheila finally managed. After the continual and repeated shocks to her system, she required a moment to even remember where she was. But with her returning lucidity came two definite sensations. Her buttocks stung mercilessly, and she didn't know if she would ever sit again.

And the thing inside her droned on, pushing ripple after ripple of vibrations throughout her pelvis. As the searing pain in her buttocks diminished, it was replaced by the electric thrill of the object dancing in her vagina, taunting her clitoris through her own flesh.

Neil steepled his fingers before his chest. He could sense that Steven was on psychological auto-pilot, living out some long suppressed fantasy. Steven straddled Sheila's thighs and looked at the back of her head.

"Keep saying it, little girl," he instructed. He pumped his fist the length of his cock, spreading the copious pre-ejaculate along its length. He was not particularly large, but the turgid head of his cock was wide and scarlet with his excitement.

"Make me orgasm, Daddy," Sheila whispered. She understood what was happening, and her legs trembled anxiously. She tenaciously bit her lower lip and tried to concentrate on the vibrations spilling up through the base of her clitoris.

Steven hurriedly spread her heavy buttocks with his hands and looked at her wrinkled, pink anus. Sheila winced at his touch upon her bruised flesh, but her mind wouldn't let go of its growing appreciation for the persistent sensations within her. Steven firmly pressed the tip of his cock against her sphincter.

"Daddy's going to fuck you in the ass," he said quietly. There was a tone of awe in his voice, and he leaned his weight forward to grind the head of his cock against her anus. To his surprise, her sphincter dilated enough immediately, and the head of his cock passed into her smoothly.

Sheila grunted loudly as the poorly lubricated penis entered her, but she remembered Neil's instructions about the squash. "Fuck my ass, Daddy," she said hoarsely, and there was a genuine enthusiasm in her as she pressed outward with her sphincter to allow more of Steven's cock inside her. He did not hesitate, and he rocked his pelvis forward almost recklessly, pushing several more inches into her.

Sheila gasped at the sharp pains of flesh snagging flesh and vocalized a low, nervous groan as tiny cramps crawled deep inside her body. It didn't matter, though. The intrusion into her rectum filled her, and the pressure transferred to the hard, purring object in her vagina. Suddenly she was filled completely, and every subtle vibration of the device seemed to be forced to the root of her clitoris. "Oh, my God," Sheila moaned, and her bound arms began to tremble in time with her legs.

"How does Daddy's cock feel in you?" Steven hissed. His tone was frantic. Without care for style or aesthetic, he began to rock his hips desperately up against the girl's plush ass, forcing the shaft of his cock rapidly in and out through her anus. The movement was rough and painful, but Sheila only heeded the growing spike of heat in her lower stomach.

"Fuck my ass, Daddy," she breathed, her lips curling up into a crude and lecherous smile. Steven complied, and he redoubled his pace. Every thrust into her brought a savage, primitive grunt from her, but she kept goading the desperate man nonetheless. "Deeper," she coaxed. "Slide it into me deeper."

She felt his hands grip her shoulders firmly, and he began to move completely push his erection in and out of her. The swollen head of his cock would nearly leave her sore sphincter, only to thrust inwards until she felt his testicles rest against her labia. "I want to cum in my little girl's asshole," Steven grunted, and he punctuated his words with a particularly deep and slow stroke into her rectum.

The penetration seemed to shatter the sliver of fire in Sheila's lower stomach, and a warm, fluid rush of sensation began to boil in its place. She clamped her eyes tightly shut, and the world became only the throbbing device inside of her cunt and the angry cock pushing in and out of her rectum. The roaring sensation in her belly grew more violent, and she knew she was going to orgasm with this stranger she was calling "Daddy" sodomizing her. "I'm going to cum, Daddy" she whispered, though she wasn't sure the words were audible.

Neil heard her small voice and sighed. He was sure the whipping and the reckless sodomy would break her. He was sure he'd miscalculated with this little adventure and would lose Sheila's cooperation all-together, whatever threats he made to her. He was profoundly pleased to see that she was not only as deviant as he, as degenerate and compulsive, but was just as capable of enduring for the sake of an end.

"Daddy's gonna.... oh, fuck," Steven hissed, and he pushed his cock into Sheila's rectum until his pelvis pressed her buttocks flat. The head of his cock throbbed and ached, and he spurted his semen deep into her. For Steven, it seemed the looping spasms and hot ejections of semen lasted an eternity. For Sheila, the prolonged penetration, deep and rough, finally turned the rippling warmth in her pelvis into the sharp, violent spasms of an orgasm.

Neil listened with pleasure to the wavering whine that rose from Sheila's throat and the harsh, animalistic breathing from Steven. The man clung to Sheila's shoulders for several minutes, keeping his weight upon her, keeping his cock buried between her buttocks as if he wanted to imprint the memory of those moments in his mind for future use. Sheila's body shook ludicrously beneath him, though Neil was uncertain if she remained completely conscious after the delicious wail of her orgasm had subsided. Neil triggered the remote control, and the device inside of Sheila ceased its vibrations.

After slowly dismounting the ravaged girl, Steven made no move to assist Neil. He sat upon the floor at the end of the bed with a distant expression, his face flushed and the front tail of his button-down stained with semen and vaginal fluids. Neil finally located a pair of scissors, and he slowly cut the tape from Sheila's bound arms. She wasn't unconscious, but her state was little better than Steven's. She managed a moan of mixed emotions as Neil gently removed the device from inside of her and detached the receiver box from her flesh.

Her arms were sticky with industrial adhesive, and she had substantial trouble walking. After coaxing her through a perfunctory bathroom ritual, however, Neil felt she was at least presentable enough for the ride back to his house. She'd managed a weak smile when Neil had gently wiped between her thighs and buttocks with a damp, warm rag, but beyond that she'd attempted no conversation.

Even when Sheila had managed to more or less dress herself, Steven had not moved from his position on the floor at the foot of his bed. "Steven, we're going to leave now. Would you like a ride back to the mall? Maybe you left your car there?" Neil prompted.

Steven blinked slowly and shook his head. "I can just walk back if I have to," he said quietly.

"Well, we appreciate your cooperation today," Neil said. He was worried about the man. Steven seemed to be uncomfortable with his own predilections.

"I'm sorry about the..." Steven began. His vague gesture indicated he wasn't sure exactly what he was sorry about, though he clearly thought there was something about which he should be sorry.

Neil frowned. "This entire event of course stays between us," he said sternly, and he lightly guided Sheila by the arm toward the front door.

"Bye," Steven called distantly, and then Neil and Sheila were gingerly making their way down the front walk to Neil's car. Neil correctly presumed Steven would have a confusing evening of guilt and sweet memory.

"I think he's too uncomfortable with himself to be any more fun," Neil said after making sure Sheila's seatbelt was fastened. The girl had winced emotively when taking her seat in the car. Neil wondered how long it would be before she could sit anywhere comfortably.

Sheila surprised him with a cruel, genuine smile. "I think he should seriously consider never having kids," she said hoarsely.

"So you would think less of me if I wanted you to call me 'Daddy'?" Neil asked, arching an eyebrow bemusedly.

"No," Sheila replied, dropping her smile and narrowing her bloodshot eyes. "If you were my Daddy, I'd still want you to use me like this." A twinge of arousal arose in Neil at her words, and he traced the edges of his teeth with his tongue as he started the car.

"And how could I resist?" he mused rhetorically.