Dirtiest Story

These days I tend to find myself writing less filth than I used to. Maybe it's an illusion. Perhaps I'm becoming de-sensitised in my old age or maybe I'm less obsessed with wall to wall sex scenes than I used to be. Even so, I didn't have to scrape the bottom of the barrel that much to come up with something pretty smutty.

This is taken from The Audition, a short sci-fi story I wrote for an anthology, Love and Lust in Space.

Here's the blurb.

When she accidentally opens a wormhole whilst working for NASA Lucy tumbles through to find herself in a parallel dimension with no way back. Ever.

In this new and terrifying world she has to choose a dominant mate from the group of males all more than happy to audition for the role.

And the excerpt...

With a despairing sob, Lucy turned and stepped forward until the edge of the mattress nudged her upper thighs. She bent at the waist and turned her face so her cheek rested on the cool, padded surface. Then she shuffled her feet until they were about eighteen inches apart.

"More, Lucy. We require you to spread your legs much wider than that, please."

Lucy complied, accepting the inevitability of this degradation. She was helpless, could only accept what was happening to her, and hoped these aliens were telling the truth that she would not be harmed. She screwed up her eyes behind the soft fabric and yearned for the monotonous drudgery of her previous life.

"Arch your back. Yes, that's good. Now maintain that posture until I instruct you to move. Nod if you understand."

Lucy bobbed her head once, and gritted her teeth.

The hands that touched her first were cool, and oddly gentle. They caressed her pussy lips before pushing back the delicate folds which concealed her clit. Lucy gasped and tensed as a finger flicked the tip of the sensitive nubbin, then slid along her slit to her entrance. She groaned as it eased inside her.

The digit buried within her cunt remained still as other hands parted her arse cheeks to expose her anus. She concentrated on not wriggling when cool lube dribbled over her tightly puckered hole but couldn't contain the soft whimper as a finger was worked inside. Whichever male it was stopped, waited for a few seconds, then resumed his questing.

Sensation overwhelmed Lucy. None of the men hurt her, their fingers were gentle as they caressed her sensitive folds or stroked her inner spaces. As she lay motionless and biting on her lower lip a second finger slid inside her pussy alongside the first, then both curled to press on a spot, which seemed to be located right behind her clit. The fingertips applied a firm pressure within which caused her sensitive bud to swell against the relentless stroking and tugging from the outside. Lucy's pussy contracted hard, the convulsions rolling through her body as the heady stimulation swept away her senses. Her instincts screamed at her to move, to shy away from the intensity of sensation, but the memory of the sound made by that cane held her in place as surely as if she were bound to the bed.

The mattress shifted continuously on either side of her as men sat, then stood, moving about to gain the access they required. The finger was withdrawn from her arse to be replaced by another, then a second. The sounds of her arousal were unmistakable, her wetness creating the slick contact, which drove her to the brink of orgasm again and again.

These men knew what they were about. They knew just how to touch, to caress, to tease and taunt. They possessed a skill bordering on merciless and used it to arouse her response and build it, feed it, until she could bear no more and tumbled over the edge as her climax wracked her motionless body.

Even that was not enough. No sooner had the ripples of orgasm subsided than someone was on his knees behind her, pulling her clit into his mouth to suck on it, to lap and flick it with his tongue, and press the tip into the hollow at the very top, between her throbbing nub and the hood which normally shielded it. There was to be no shield now, no protection, and no respite, as they drew her back to the edge of orgasm and held her there, quivering, moaning, pleading with them to stop.

Or not to stop. Ever.

Someone finger-fucked her arse, the thrusts slow at first, then building to a rapid tempo as he drove two fingers deep, again and again. Lucy was sobbing even as she clenched her rear hole around the plunging fingers and came for a third time.

She lay limp on the mattress, but still they weren't done with her. Strong hands lifted her as others gently parted her pussy lips. There was cooling draught as someone blew on her engorged folds, then drove a tongue deep inside her greedy channel.

"Oh, God," Lucy moaned, burying her face in the crisp bedding beneath her. "Stop, please. I can't bear it."

There was no answer. Any response on her tormentors' part was purely physical as the tongue-fucking continued, augmented by sweet pressure on her throbbing clit as someone gripped hard and squeezed. Fingers twisted within her arse, stretching her, working her tight opening wider until all resistance evaporated. Lucy gave up the useless pleading and surrendered to what she couldn't fight. She relinquished control and allowed herself to drift in a hazy cloud of orgasmic sensation. She was theirs, to use as they pleased. When her fourth orgasm seized her she actually felt the gush of hot moisture leak from her pussy to seep into the sheet.

They knew it, too. Lucy was mortified; her treacherous body had dictated her response and her tormentors had witnessed her humiliating physical reaction. They dipped their fingers in her drooling wetness and smeared it across her buttocks, her inner thighs, her anus. Lucy begged them to stop, even as they teased her yet again to the brink of another climax.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, all hands released her. The fingers inside her arse withdrew, the tongue thrust inside her cunt slid away. The digits holding her pussy open, spreading her wide for everyone's pleasure, released their grip and she was alone. The room was silent, quite still. Lucy hated the aching, heavy emptiness almost as much as the crowded over-stimulation, which had all but overwhelmed her in its intensity.

Lucy breathed in deep, then exhaled. She lay still, listening, not daring to move for fear that the cane might even now slice through the air to connect with her vulnerable bottom. She had done as instructed; she had obeyed, surely—

"Listen to me, Lucy, but do not move. Do you understand?"

The voice was Thane's. Lucy managed a feeble nod, beyond embarrassment. She remained just as she was, spread open, exposed, her juices dripping from her gaping pussy.

"How many times did you come?"

She remained silent, unsure if she was expected to answer.

"Lucy, how many times?"

Thane had hardened his tone and Lucy shivered in apprehension. Had she counted correctly? Would she be punished if she got the answer wrong?

"Three, I think."

A ripple of low, masculine laughter greeted her reply. "More like five."

"Five? Yes, five then."

"How many times did you want to come, Lucy?"

She shook her head. "None. I didn't want any of it. You knew that."

Lucy flinched at the sharp tap of fingers on her temple. "In here, no, perhaps not. But your sexy little cunt has different ideas. You hated us. In your head, you hated everything we did to you, but your cunt loved it. You came for us five times, but we could have taken you much, much further. Your submission was ours to take, to exploit. This is how your body yearns to be treated. Isn't it, Lucy?"