Sister Margaret favored me with a disapproving frown, glaring across the meticulously organized expanse of her old oak desk. I swallowed nervously as an uncomfortable silence drew out. The large nun was an imposing presence, not to be trifled with. Even seated, she seemed to tower over my petite four-foot-ten height. I looked at her anxiously, wondering why I had been summoned.
"Miss Porter," she finally began after an exasperated sigh. "Enlighten me. Why is it that all the other girls here at Saint Ann's have completed their appointments for the yearbook photos, and you are the one girl on my list who is the exception?"
I looked at her in confusion. "What... what photos? I didn't...
"The entire class received letters with their scheduled appointment times at the photographer," Sister Margaret interrupted. "Are you suggesting that of all those letters, only yours got lost in the mail?"
"I... I don't..." I stammered. A lost letter seemed to be the logical explanation, but the stern num had already cut off that avenue of excuse.
"Fortunately," she continued, the photographer has graciously agreed to work you in between his other appointments this morning. You are to go directly to his studio, and you will follow his instructions without debate. Do you understand me, young miss?" I nodded sincerely. She picked up her dreaded ruler and pointed it menacingly in my direction. "If I hear a word -- the merest peep of complaint, mind you -- that you have given him any attitude or back talk, you will rue the day. As the Lord is my witness -- Rue. Are we clear?" I gulped and nodded frantically, determined to convey my clarity on the ruing potential of the situation.
"Now," Sister Margaret explained, her tone softening slightly. "I haven't the time or the inclination to take you to the studio myself. So against all better judgment, I am turning you loose on your own recognizance. The photographer is only a mile from here. You are to take the city bus downtown to the studio, sit for your photos, and then return directly here. There shall be no dallying or detours." Grabbing a pen, she scribbled briefly on a scrap of paper, which she then handed me. "The location is on Main Street. Here is the address. Also, here are two dollars, which should be more than adequate for the bus fare."
A pause ensued while the nun once more bestowed on me a hawk-like gaze of disapproval, shaking her head. "Well? Why are you still standing here? Scoot! Go! Off with you!" Fearfully, I turned and fled her office. My hard soled shoes echoed as I hurried down the hallway to the exit. I crossed the parking lot and sat down at the bus stop, awaiting the next vehicle, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. I glanced down at the scrap of paper Sister Margaret had given me with the Main Street address. "811" was the only information given. With a squeal of brakes, a city bus eased to a stop by the curb and I climbed on board. "Dollar-fifty," the driver proclaimed in a bored voice. I handed him my two dollars and got fifty cents in return -- inadequate to cover the cost of the ride back to the school. But I would have to worry about that later.
A few minutes of frequent stops and jolting over potholes brought me to my destination. "Eighth Street!" the driver called out, swinging open the doors. I jostled off the crowded bus and onto the sidewalk, finding myself in a rather rundown part of town. I glanced once more at the scrap of paper, trying to orient myself. 801 was the address on the corner -- a bar, still closed to morning traffic. Next was 805 -- a shuttered building with fading lettering above the window indicating it once housed a nail salon. A short walk halfway up the block brought me to 811. Large garage doors and faded red industrial metal siding suggested the ill-tended structure may have begun its career as a car repair shop. I looked around, uncertain. Surely this couldn't be the place. But then I saw a hand-lettered sign taped inside the glass door. BERGMAN STUDIOS - PHOTOGRAPHY AND VIDEO. Neglected hinges creaked in protest as I ventured within. A bell at the top of the door jangled, announcing my entry. My footsteps echoed in the dim light, suggesting a large, open room.
As my eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight outside, I glanced around the cluttered space, observing stacks of boxes, old furniture, and a hallway leading from the room. Shadows continued to obscure the far corners and a musty scent of dust and motor oil permeated the air. A crash and clatter sounded from a back room, somewhere down the hallway, followed by a scathing string of enthusiastic cursing.
"Hello?" I called out tentatively.
"You're late!" the disembodied voice replied, carrying a tone of annoyance. "I figured you for a no-show like a lot of the first-timers."
"I came as quick as I could..." I began to protest but then fell silent, Sister Margaret's warning against backtalk still ringing fresh in my memory. Footsteps approached and a shadowy silhouette appeared in the hallway. The figure paused. A light switch snapped and a single yellowish bulb overhead added a feeble contribution of light to the poor illumination. A middle-aged man with a receding hairline and three days of razor stubble entered the main room. A stained METALICA teeshirt covered his paunchy belly. Baggy tan cargo shorts and loafers with black socks completed his ensemble. "Jack," he grunted by way of introduction, looking at me expectantly.
"Oh, ah... Stephanie... Stephanie Porter," I responded, awkwardly extending the offer of a handshake, which Jack ignored. "I'm here for my..."
The photographer's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How old are you? Wait, no, don't answer that. If they sent you over, you obviously check out, so I don't even want to know. OK, let's see what we have to work with." He clasped his hands behind his back and looked me over. I smiled self-consciously, adopting a straight posture. "Uh-huh... uh-huh..." he mumbled, slowly walking a full circle of inspection around me. "Cute. Pretty blonde hair... kind of flat-chested, though. But that is a nice piece of ass. Perky." he observed casually, as if evaluating a slab of rump roast at the butcher's counter. I blushed, my hands clenching into fists of indignation at his rude assessment. But I held my tongue, knowing I was on thin ice with Sister Margaret. "I like the innocent wide-eyed school-girl theme. We can work with that," Jack acknowledged, stroking his scruffy chin thoughtfully. "I think the guys are going to like that. OK, we'll run with this look, but that skirt is way too long."
I glanced down, observing my plaid, pleated skirt. The hemline teased right above my knees, precariously close to violating Saint Anne's strict dress code. I opened my mouth to set that record straight, but Jack shushed me with an impatient wave of his hand. "Come on, we'll get you sorted," he commanded, turning back the way he came. Obediently, I hurried to follow him down the hallway towards the back room. Stepping inside revealed a storeroom, the space hopelessly cluttered with dusty crates, stacks of tires, and a rusty assortment of car repair tools on a sagging wooden shelf. Along one wall stood a crowded chrome rack of assorted garments on hangers. Jack's fingers nimbly flipped through the clothing as he muttered to himself. "No, no, no... ah! Yes, that will do nicely. And this..." He turned, presenting his finds. "Here, let's see how these fit you, Cupcake."
Jack's offering included a shamefully short miniskirt, somewhat matching the color and pattern of my school-issued uniform. I blushed, holding the skirt up to my waist for a rough test fit. I frowned, harboring serious doubts that the hem was going to fully cover the rounded swell of my rump cheeks, and the slightest breeze or movement was likely to offer a most revealing glimpse up my thighs. Jack's choice for the blouse was little better -- a sheer wisp of a garment, trimmed to reveal plenty of bare midriff and so thin as to offer only a hint of veil for what it did manage to cover.
I looked up, trying to formulate a protest over the inappropriate attire. "Want a smoke?" Jack inquired with a disarming smile, offering a funny looking hand-rolled cigarette. Unskilled at the art of smoking, I nonetheless accepted, not wanting to appear prudish or impolite. Jack flicked a lighter as I awkwardly held the tip of the cigarette into the flame and drew in a breath. A writhing stream of yellowish smoke spiraled upward as a skunky odor filled my nostrils. I wrinkled my nose in distaste, but inhaled deeply. A desperate coughing fit ensued and I nearly gagged.
"Good stuff, am I right?" Jack winked. I felt my stomach make a rebellious churn of protest but I managed to maintain control. Putting on a brave front I nodded politely in agreement and inhaled a second time, pulling a deep breath of the intoxicating vapors into my lungs. My eyes watered and a woozy dizziness swept over me. I heard a deep, throaty giggle. It took a moment to realize it was my own voice, rendered husky and off-tune by the unsavory smoke. I swayed unsteadily on my feet, a sensation of calm washing over me. A loopy grin spread across my lips and suddenly Jack's suggested wardrobe change didn't seem such an unreasonable request. I unlaced my black dress shoes, carefully putting them aside, leaving my feet clad in white ankle socks with lacy trim, adorned with the pattern of cute cartoon bunnies at play. I looked up the photographer, expecting him to give me a moment of privacy to undress.
"Come on, come on," Jack urged, checking his watch. "Hurry up and change."
Despite its funky scent, the cigarette was becoming an acquired taste. I drew another deep, greedy inhale, the ember on the cigarette tip flaring as it rapidly consumed a generous length of weed and paper. I held my breath then exhaled with a rough cough, savoring the intoxicating effect. Jack took the cigarette from me and indulged in a toke of his own, his dark eyes watching me intently.
The thought briefly crossed my dizzy mind that perhaps Jack shouldn't gaze at me with such a hungry expression as I pulled down my skirt and removed my top. But those moral reservations seemed fuzzy at best, marginalized into irrelevancy as I stripped down to my underwear. I buttoned on the tight blouse and wriggled into the ever-so-short skirt, turning to observe myself in a full length mirror on the wall.
"Mirror, Mirror on the wall... I can see my lacy bra," I slurred, breaking into a snorting giggle at my improvised prose. "And the skirt is too short. I can see my panties," I pouted, observing my reflection. A hint of the tightly spanned underwear covering my crotch was peeking out from below the hemline.
Jack stepped over and looked into the mirror with me. "Yeah, those panties kind of jump out at you, don't they?" He mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe you should take them off."
"Of course!" I agreed, my muddled mind admiring such a perfect solution. "You sure are... are... smart, Jack!" Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, I squirmed and jiggled, tugging them down my legs. They tangled around my ankles and I stumbled, falling into Jack's arms as he caught me. "My hero!" I proclaimed gratefully. Jack smiled and maneuvered me back onto my unsteady feet. I undid the tight blouse, tugged off my small bra, and put the blouse back on, struggling to fasten the buttons as the undersized garment strained at its stitches. Turning my attention back to the mirror, I could see that the gauze-thin material did nothing to conceal my firm little breasts and perky nipples from observation.
I turned my attention back to the scandalously short skirt. Just a teasing hint of my bald, naked pussy slit peeked out from below the hem. I modestly tugged the skirt downward. The trade-off was an alarming amount of bare skin indecently revealed at the top of the low-cut waistband. I struggled to find a happy medium, but there was no escaping that the skirt simply contained insufficient surface area to be respectable attire. I chewed my lower lip in concern that my appearance might be inappropriate for a yearbook photo.
"Don't worry, the photos won't focus on the skirt at all," Jack promised me. Reassured that the professional photographer knew his business, I abandoned my worries about the skimpy attire.
"Do I need any makeup?" I inquired, wondering if a little blush was needed.
"Nah, that will just smear and make a mess," Jack replied. "And no one will notice any makeup once the action starts. OK, chop-chop! Come on!"
Jack turned and hurried the office, switching off the light as he left. "Wait! My shoes!" I protested from the dark.
"Won't be needing those... and the bunny socks are cute," Jack called back with a laugh. I shrugged and giggled, the pleasant sensation of the smoke exerting an increasingly carefree attitude on me as I hurried after him, my socks slipping on the heavily-worn linoleum tiles.
Back in the large main room, laughter and deep male voices revealed we had company. With a series of clicks, Jack began to flip on the main lights, pushing back the darkness. Three young black men were slouched lazily across various chairs and couches. A final series of overhead lights blazed bright, revealing one corner of the expanse was furnished with a fancy brass bed with pink satin sheets, a plush patterned rug, art deco wall hangings, and even several large potted ferns -- a staged oasis of lavish style amidst the building's otherwise rundown and industrial interior.
Jack introduced the three men. "Stephanie, meet the guys. The big bald fella there with all the muscles is Gerome." The huge man flashed a smile, revealing a prominent gold tooth. "The tall one is T-Dog." T-Dog gave me a nod, hoisting a beer bottle in my direction as his greeting. "And the one with all the gold chains and dreadlocks, that's Dobbs. They're all going to be in on your photo shoot today."
"Um... ok... hi guys," I replied in a befuddled tone. "Do I really need any help with my pictures?"
The three men glanced at each other then whooped with laughter. "Burn!" proclaimed T-Dog.
"Yah, little mama got a spicy attitude for sure," Dobbs agreed.
"You want some coke?" Gerome offered, seeming to warm up to me.
"Oh, yeah, sure," I agreed, realizing I was a bit thirsty. But instead of handing me a can of soda, Gerome pulled a tiny plastic baggie from his pocket and proceeded to carefully distribute thin lines of white powder onto a small mirror. He held it up to me with an encouraging nod. Puzzled, I approached. "Have a snort," he invited.
"I... ah... I don't..." I stammered in confusion.
"Dat's right, T-Bone agreed, rising to stand next to me, draping his long arm protectively around my shoulder. The man towered over me and I only came up to about the bottom of his ribcage. "Girlfriend know that snorting blow be rotting out your sinuses. Allow me..." He licked his middle finger and rolled the wet digit across the mirror, distributing a generous coating of the fine white powder along the length of his digit. In my dulled state of mind, I was slow to react, simply standing there dumbly as T-Bone maneuvered his hand under the hem of my tiny skirt. I squeaked in surprise, rising up on my toes as his finger slipped between the firm cheeks of my rear. He expertly zeroed in on my tightly puckered butthole as a red flush of embarrassment blazed across my face.
My snuggly clenched rosebud put up a brief struggle, then shuddered in surrender as the full length of T-Bone's finger eased deep into my anus with a firm, prolonged push. My eyes flew wide in shock. A tingling sensation -- presumably from the strange powder -- shivered through the tender fleshy tissues of my rectum. I should have recoiled in shock, but with my head already buzzing from Jack's funny cigarette, I instead purred at the unexpected anal invasion, closing my eyes and slowly grinding my hips as T-Bone began to gently thrust his stiffened middle finger in and out of my butthole. "There, now dat's how a proper lady does her coke!" T-Bone declared with a chuckle. My knees felt as if they would give way and I leaned back against him for support. My breathing becoming deeper as I felt my nipples perk to rigid attention, tenting out my thin blouse.
"Oh... wow!" I slurred as a delightful sensation of light-headedness surged through my overloaded brain. I could feel my heart pounding as a rush of energy left me feeling quivery but ready for whatever excitement might come next. T-Bone pulled his wonderful finger from my snug little bunghole and I mewled in protest. Then I gratefully sighed as he doubled my pleasure, driving two fingers up into the clutching confines of my trembling rectum.
"Yo, you lanky mother-fucker! Don't be wearing the bitch out before we even get started!" Dobbs casually warned T-Bone.
"Damn, no worries 'bout dat," T-Bone assured him. "This piece of ass is TIGHT! And she be like, what, weighin' in at a buck-o-five? Damn sure there be PLENTY of snug in dat little package for all of us."
"Ninety six pounds" I vainly corrected with a sniff of indignation, not wanting the guys to think I was packing any chubby fat. Gerome gave a low whistle of appreciation and I blushed.
"Alright, alright, let's quit chatting up the cooze," Jack interrupted. "Time is money, so let's get to it." I whimpered in disappointment as T-Bone pulled his fingers from my clutching asshole. My rectal gateway puckered frantically open and closed, deprived of that delightful stimulation.
"Safe word is Pineapple, if you want to stop," Jack announced, seemingly apropos of nothing. I mouthed the word silently to myself, completely perplexed as to the intent.
Gerome stood up and without a word of explanation simply unbuttoned his baggy pants and dropped them and his boxers to the floor. "Geez Man! How you walk around with that thing?" Dobbs exclaimed in a teasing tone. My hand flew to my mouth as I gasped. Not only was I stunned that Gerome would simply expose his naked manhood to me so brazenly, but... but... his penis was absolutely alarming in size. Dangling limp, it easily measured ten inches. But as it swelled it added length and girth. He winked at me, wrapping his fist around that massive, fleshy rod and slowly stroked his erection to its full potential. As it bobbed to full mast, I gulped. Surely it was over a full foot in length and much thicker than a soda can.
T-Bone also casually disrobed, his prick already semi-hard. My eyes flew open wide. He couldn't match Gerome for girth, but as that massive black cock fully stiffened, he clearly had the other man beat in length by at least three inches.
Dobbs kicked off his shoes and dropped his sweats, revealing a cock that didn't quite measure up to his friends in length or girth, but at about eleven rigid inches and over two inches of fleshy diameter, it was still a formidable appendage. But swinging ominously at the base of his large prick was an enormous nut sack, nearly twice the size of the other men. It was as if the balls of a bull had been transplanted onto Dobb's body and he flashed me a proud grin as my jaw dropped at the sight.
"Stephanie... Stephanie!" Jack called, snapping his fingers repeatedly to divert my fixated attention. I flinched and looked up, trying to get my muddled mind to focus. "OK there, Sweet Cheeks -- you're our star so let's get you onto the bed. No, on your hands and knees, facing away from us. There you go -- head down, ass up. Perfect. Let me get some starting shots..." As I complied, it seemed like I should formulate some sort of objection at this very unladylike pose, but my brain felt like it was operating in a fuzzy fog. Jack checked the illumination with a meter and adjusted a couple of the lights. He scrutinized the view through his camera, manipulating the lens. I could almost feel the action of the optical equipment zooming in up close and personal on my exposed rump cheeks as the much-too-short skirt hem rode up onto my lower back, providing zero cover for my private girl parts. "Nice. Spread those knees... there you go," Jack encouraged. "Can you tug those sweet little rump cheeks apart for me? Both hands -- yeah, like that. Let's get a good look at that juicy little gash and rosebud."
A rush of embarrassment rose up my face, as the shame of my exposed and vulnerable pose clearly had the undivided attention of everyone in the room. This was certainly nothing like any yearbook photo I had ever had before, but Sister Margaret's stern warning against any fuss or backtalk echoed in my mind.
After Jack snapped numerous intimate photos, Gerome knelt down on the bed behind me, placing both hands on my naked ass cheeks and spreading them wide with his fingers. Any concerns I had about this highly questionable photo shoot melted away as the muscular black man's hot breath washed over my exposed backside. He pressed his face into the fleshy cleft between my rump cheeks. I inhaled with a surprised hiss, feeling his long tongue drag up through the split of my vaginal lips and press into the dimpled recess of my ass. I bucked in protest, trying to squirm away from this highly inappropriate embrace, but Gerome's strong hands firmly took control of my hips, holding me in position. Then my mouth fell open in stunned surprise as I felt his stiffened tongue flutter against the crinkled orifice of my anus, insistently probing.
"Oh my god!" I moaned as the tip of Gerome's talented tongue pried me open. Abandoning myself to the lustful sensation, I wriggled to and fro. His wet oral appendage dug deeper, working in a circle, teasing the tender fleshy rim of my asshole. My muscles tensed and I arched my back, groaning as my thighs began to quiver. A convulsive pre-orgasmic spasm tickled its way through my pussy and I cried out, feeling my rectal tunnel clasp down tight as Gerome's tongue sunk in deep.
"That's a girl!" Jack called out in encouragement. "Show me you love that hot tongue deep in your sweet little shitter!" The shutter of his camera clicked furiously, capturing the obscene action as I quivered with delight. Gerome's right hand loosened its controlling grip on my butt cheek, tracing up my back. His fingers gripped the flimsy material of my blouse and pulled. The garment put up a momentary token resistance. Then one by one, the straining buttons snapped. My tiny tits tumbled free as the blouse shredded with a tearing sound. The silky material pulled away and I was left clad only in my ineffectively small skirt and my white bunny-print socks. A vague notion that this situation might be spinning out of control crossed my chemically dulled mind, but then Gerome dug his talented tongue deeper into my trembling asshole and I abandoned myself to the lustful urges.
The bed springs creaked and the mattress shifted, taking T-Bone's added weight. I looked up, finding myself face to face with the bobbing head of his long black cock. He gently thrust forward, pressing the head of his prick against my pouting lips. I was inexperienced, but instinct and apparently natural talent took the helm. My tongue slithered out, the wet tip teasing the head of his hard cock. A glistening drop of clear fluid oozed from the tip of T-Bone's cock, quickly captured my tongue. A salty taste flooded my taste buds, urging me on. I pressed my lips forward, wrapping a passionate open-mouthed kiss caress around the velvety nose of his prick.
"Yeah! Good girl!" Jack encouraged, working the camera. "Show me how you suck that huge cock, you little whore!"
I bristled momentarily at Jack's offensive term, but then obediently opened my mouth wider as T-Bone pressed forward, feeding his rigid prick into my waiting lips. He stroked in several inches then withdrew. My tongue lovingly lashed the underside of his veined dick. My cheeks hollowed as I sucked hard. T-Bone rewarded my efforts, sliding his glistening wet prick back into my mouth. Spit dribbled from my open mouth, unheeded. Like a relentless anaconda, inch after inch of T-Bone's cock slipped inside. Suddenly I gagged in panic, feeling him invade the opening to my throat. "Just relax. Let it happen," Jack urged in a soothing tone, his camera moving in close, the clicking shutter stuttering relentlessly.
T-Bone pulled his cock head back to my lips. "Deep breath," he advised. My chest swelled as I took in a large rush of air. Then, like a loaded freight train rumbling into a rail yard, inch after inch of his long cock plowed into my mouth. I gazed up at him, my eyes eager, wide and trusting as he surged forward. A brief moment of resistance flared. I tilted my head upward, straightening the pathway into my throat. My neck bulged, straining as his long prick slithered down my gullet. My muscles rippled, a natural swallowing action stroking T-Bone's cock, drawing him ever deeper. His loins pressed up hard against my lips, pubic hairs tickling as his balls met my chin. T-Bone looked down at me with enchantingly dark eyes. "Suck it, you dirty cunt," he commanded. I groaned, trembling with the thrill of degradation. My cheeks once again sunk in as I sucked hard, inexperienced, but eager to please.
A sensation of dizziness came over me as my vision began to grey out at the edges. Possibly sensing my distress, T-Bone pulled back his cock. I gasped and desperately inhaled, drawing in a critically needed breath. T-Bone's hips cycled, reversing direction and fifteen inches of throbbing black cock once again slithered down my throat. We quickly found our natural rhythm, with T-Bone pulling back on his cock just often enough to keep me from blacking out from lack of air. Then he would sink his massive meaty shaft back down my throat, the muscles in my bulging neck rippling, milking him.
Suddenly he pulled all the way out. Streaming trailers of my saliva and T-Bone's slippery pre-cum spanned between my lips and his retreating cock, snapping one by one as the separation widened. I grasped desperately at him with my right hand, whimpering in protest as he slipped away. "Fuck! I'm about to blow a load into this little suck machine!" he exclaimed, stepping off the bed and walking in a circle, shaking his hands as he tried to reign in his level of arousal. I licked my lips, savoring the mental image of T-Bone launching a massive eruption of frothing cum deep into my belly. But as he paced, mumbling to himself, it became clear that he had no intention of treating me as his cum dumpster quite yet. Obviously he had other things in mind.
Gerome pulled his tongue out of my quivering anus, leaving that cute little dimple puckering back and forth in frustration. The bed rocked and the player positions shifted. In short order Dobbs was laying on his back on the rumpled sheets, his throbbing erection pointed skyward. With Gerome and T-Bone guiding me, I found myself straddled on Dobbs' stomach, facing him. T-Bone's fingers briefly fumbled with the zipper along the side of my skirt. The short dress parted and was pulled away, leaving me completely naked except for my cute white socks. I arched my back, my small tits standing proud as my aching nipples throbbed with lust. I slowly raked my fingertips down Dobbs' firm, naked chest, shuddering with a lustful sigh.
Dobbs' bobbing cock rubbed up and down along my parted, ruffled pussy lips, sending tremors of anticipation coursing through my eager twat. I lifted my hips and scooted downward. The slippery wet tip of Dobbs' cock nosed its way into the loving embrace of my juicy twat lips as vaginal fluid oozed downward in a steady, lubricating trickle. I groaned, grinding my hips in a sultry circular motion as he slowly forced his way into the hot, tight grasp of my slippery fuck sleeve. Several inches of hard black cock plowed into me, then stalled, thwarted by some inner fleshy barrier. Dobbs grunted and thrust. A flash of pain drew a partially stifled shriek from my lips. Heedless of my discomfort, he lunged upward again and I moaned, gritting my teeth in response.
Dobbs arched his back upward, lifting me off the bed. Impaled on his cock, I squirmed, bucking my hips as I bore down hard. Suddenly the stubborn resistance in my twat gave way. My eyes glistened with the threat of tears as I bit down on my lower lip, throttling the urge to cry. Then a wonderful sensation of fullness and satisfaction soothed me as that throbbing black cock buried itself full depth in the quivering fleshy folds of my pink little cunt. I tossed my hair with a flip of my head, feeling very sexy. I fell forward against Dobbs' chest, whimpering and clinging desperately to him as his hips began a powerful thrusting rhythm. His prick surged in and out of my cunt as the tight vaginal grip began to loosen. I sobbed in mindless passion, hearing the wet slurping sound of my tight virgin pussy being plundered.
On the edge of my consciousness, I felt jostled on the mattress. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack maneuver around the bed, his ever-present camera working. "Oh that does look tight," mused a deep voice and I knew it was Gerome positioning himself at my upturned naked rump. Firm hands spread my ass cheeks and I held my breath, in a state of denial of what was coming next. The touch of hot cock pried into the crack of my ass, slipping up and down in that inviting crevice, the throbbing shaft guided by Gerome's clutching fist. He slithered around, finally zeroing in on the cute puckered dimple of my rectal gateway. I knew there was no way my tight little asshole could ever take in Gerome's massive cock. But as the probing pressure on my protectively clenched rosebud began to build, I gasped, realizing that Gerome did actually intend to fuck me up the ass with his massive prick.
I shook my head, trying to verbalize a protest. Wasn't there some sort of "safe word" Jack had mentioned? I racked my brain, trying to remember, but Dobbs continued to thrust hard and deep into my straining pussy, turning my verbal objection into a series of senseless but lustful grunts, "Uh.. Uh... Uh!" Gerome pressed harder and I could feel my asshole begin to enthusiastically pucker open and closed in response. I tried once more to tell Gerome to stop, but all that came from my lips was a submissive, "Yesssss!"
A brief flash of pain arose as my anus strained. Gerome growled and forcefully lunged. I squealed, feeling his massive cock knob plow into my tender asshole. My rectal pucker convulsed, clamping down tight and trapping him inside me. A wonderful burning friction built in my bowels and I instinctively clenched, embracing that huge black cock in the rippling grip of my steamy bowels. "Fuck, that's tight!" Gerome hissed, straining to pull back against my relentless, greedy grip. I could feel my obscenely stretched anus bulge outwards on Gerome's backstroke, with the lens of Jack's camera faithfully capturing the vivid details. Gerome's cock knob eased to a stop, trapped just inside the stretched portal to my straining anal fuck tunnel. He thrust forward hard, his punishing fuck stroke burying the full length of his massive prick up my shitter in a single stroke. I mewled gratefully, drool running from my slack lips in response to the rough impalement. Of their own accord, my hips rolled in a sensual response as my body savored the duel penetration of my cunt and ass.
Jack moved around to my face, the unflinching eye of his camera lens capturing my expression. "Show me how much you love that huge black cock up your sweet little asshole, Darling," he encouraged. All I could manage in response was a strangled gurgle of lust as Gerome stroked back and then hammered into my quivering rectum with another punishing thrust. My eyes crossed and I tossed my head in mindless passion, my blonde hair turning into a tussled tangle. Dobbs continued to stroke in and out of my tender twat with almost mechanical precision, stoking the smoldering passion building in the plundered depths of my pussy.
An alarming scream filled the room and it took a moment to realize it was me. My body tensed as a shuddering orgasm took hold, powerful muscle contractions alternating between my cunt and asshole. I gasped, my hips bucking frantically as my naked thighs quivered and threatened to cramp.
"Switch!" Jack called. Heedless of my ongoing orgasmic fit, Gerome pulled his massive cock out of my asshole, leaving my widely gaping rectum pulsing with a series of frantic spasms. Bedsprings creaked. Gerome moved aside and T-Bone took his place in a practiced move. Just as the orgasm in my neglected asshole began to falter, T-Bone sunk fifteen beautiful inches of hard black cock into the depths of my rectal tract, sending my shivers of erotic pleasure rocketing to new heights. I clutched tightly at Dobbs underneath me, blubbering with burning passion.
Gerome mounted the bed in front of me, kneeling, his huge cock in hand. I should have been revolted by the act of depravity that followed. Instead I licked my lips and nuzzled the tip of his throbbing dick in sultry invitation. Gerome's cock -- freshly wet and glistening from its embedment up my ass -- pressed insistently against my lips. Straining my lower jaw, I took him in, his massive cock knob filling my mouth until my cheeks bulged. Having learned from my oral experience with T-Bone, I took a deep breath and relaxed. Gerome thrust. My eyes flew wide in panic as his monstrous girth stretched my throat to its limits. But slowly, inch after fleshy inch of his throbbing prick eased into me. I worked my lips, nuzzling the base of his cock as his balls pressed up snug against my chin. He pulled back and I drew a breath. He thrust, driving in rough with a lustful grunt. A passionate rhythm built, gathering speed as he abused my mouth like a juicy cunt.
"Fuck! Bitch gonna make me cum!" Gerome warned. I gurgled in gleeful anticipation, sucking harder.
"Stick to the storyline!" Jack warned.
Gerome responded with an anguished groan and pulled back. My lips dragged along his retreating prick. A wet slurp sounded as that huge cock slipped from my oral embrace. I groaned in frustration, licking my lips in anticipation of Gerome feeding his massive dick back into my open mouth. A shuddering orgasm overtook me. I clenched my teeth, my entire body trembling as the sexual convulsions took control. T-Bone groaned, feeling my rectal track ripple with constrictions, milking deeply embedded penis. Dobbs responded to the clutching grip of my quivering pussy, his hands gripping my thrashing hips firmly as his punishing fuck-thrusts built in speed and urgency.
I felt the mattress shift once again, and as I regained my senses from my faltering orgasmic thrashing, Gerome was nowhere to be seen. The large man soon made his presence known however as I felt the slippery sensation of his huge cock knob slip into the inviting cleft of my bouncing ass cheeks. I wondered for a moment what he had in mind. My cunt an asshole were both stuffed to the brim. Then I felt Gerome's prick nose downward, prodding its way towards my stretched and straining asshole. "He couldn't possibly..." I thought, even as his insistent probing at my already overstuffed little rectal portal made his intentions clear. I was about to get double-fucked up the ass.
With a whimper of protest I tried to squirm away. But already spiked up the cunt and asshole by two hard, thrusting cocks, my efforts were in vain. Vaporous hints of memory once again suggested that Jack may have mentioned something about a "safe word", but the details were foggy at best. "Please..." I began to beg, wanting this to stop. Then another powerful orgasm came to a boil, blossoming deep within my ravished pussy and radiating outward to my thighs, belly, and sending my cock-filled bowels into a frantic convulsion of rippling pleasure. I bucked my hips, wriggling mindlessly between the two powerful men. "Please..." I moaned, my fingers clutching desperately at the satin sheets, "please fuck me!"
A brief flash of pain sent an explosion of stars flashing across my vision. I buried my face in Dobbs' chest and stifled a howl of animalistic lust. Panting with panic, I felt my already tortured little anal rosebud stretch even wider. Gerome grunted, pushing hard. I tried to clench down to deny him entry but my lustful little butthole proved to be accommodating. The once tight little pucker expanded as Gerome's massive cock squeezed in next to T-Bone's long, hard prick. "Oh god..." I gasped, feeling a second rigid cock knob plow into my depths. In a prolonged, forceful motion, Gerome slowly sank the full length of his throbbing prick into the steamy depths of my rectum alongside T-Bone's massive shaft, not stopping until I felt his thick matt of curly pubic hairs tickling my naked rump cheeks. Jack's camera captured frame after frame, and I could only imagine how obscenely my poor little puckered anus had to be pried open to accommodate two massive cocks simultaneously.
Gerome and T-Bone synchronized their strokes, both pulling back and thrusting deep in unison. Each double-stuffing anal fuck stroke forced a passionate grunt from my lips. A wet squelching sound arose as they gathered speed, soon matching the frantic pace of Dobbs as he relentlessly hammered into the greedy depths of my pink wet twat. I could hear their breathing turn ragged.
"Gonna cream this cunt!" Dobbs hissed. He thrust deep and quivered underneath me, issuing a prolonged groan of pleasure. I felt a warm jet rocket into my silky little snatch, foaming into every fleshy nook and cranny. I responded with a shuddering orgasm of my own, mewling with delight as my grateful cunt clenched down tight around his spewing cock shaft. Dobbs drew back and thrust, moaning as he launched another enormous eruption of sticky cum deep inside me.
T-Bone jerked, his hips bucking erratically. He plowed deep into my lustful rear fuck tunnel and held himself fully embedded. I felt his cock swell and then a massive load of soothing cum lathered up my quivering rectal tract. Gerome's cock held out for another several fuck strokes. Then the relentless clutching grip of my feverish anal spasms pushed him over the brink as well. With a bull-like bellow he plunged in deep. "Take it, you fucking whore!" he growled. I thrust my hips back against his loins, grinding hard as I felt my widely splayed anal orifice shudder with orgasmic delight, squeezing both of those double-parked big black cocks. Another prolonged cum blast from T-Bone's long fleshy fire hose filled my bowels to the brim and I could feel my tummy swell. Gerome's cock fountained deep within me. A foaming cascade of cum overflowed from my tightly packed asshole, running in sticky streamers down the inside of my quivering thighs. Dobbs grunted and buried his prick balls-deep in my silky twat, his stamina and supply of cum in his enormous nut sack seemingly endless. A syrupy river of cum and cunt cream drained out of me as I collapsed, exhausted and spiked deep by those three enormous throbbing cock rods.
Finally spent, T-Bone pulled his softening cock shaft halfway out of my ass, pausing to firmly stroke his fist along its length, groaning as he squeezed lingering discharge of cum into my rectum. Then I felt the remainder of his prick slither from my loving embrace. Gerome favored my reamed out rectal tunnel with a few more thrusts and then also dismounted. Jack bought his camera in close, capturing the full glory of my gaping, violated anus. I shuddered with a post-orgasmic tremor, purring with contentment as I felt a syrupy ooze of hot cum spilling from my plundered asshole. "Damn, we full-on wrecked that tight little shitter!" T-Bone proclaimed, his hands on his hips as he proudly observed his handiwork. Gerome responded with an exhausted nod and fist-bumped his buddy as he stepped away.
Dobb's lightly slapped my rump, stirring underneath me. Fatigued muscles in my legs and back protested as I pushed myself up off his body and collapsed onto the bed beside him, both of my plundered fuck tunnels gaping and draining. Jack moved in close with his camera, documenting the sticky aftermath.
Dobbs rose and joined his friends in picking through the pile of discarded garments as the three men donned their clothing. A wave of emotions swept through me. I felt a hint of shame and remorse, but it paled at the lingering memories of being so completely and mercilessly fucked. I rolled off the bed and quietly retreated to the back room, searching for my abandoned skirt, shoes and panties.
A few minutes later I was dressed and returned to the front room. Despite my futile efforts with several tissues, a steady trickle of cum continued to drain from my sore little cunt and asshole and my panties already felt quite damp. Jack was seated at a desk, surrounded by the three black men. "Yo, so we be on for next Tuesday, Bro?" Dobbs inquired.
"Tuesday... Tuesday..." Jack muttered, flipping through his heavily scribbled calendar. "Oh, man, I almost forgot about that shoot. Yeah -- Asian Twins Anal Gang Bang -- definitely, that's a go. See you all here at 9:00." Dobbs and T-Bone nodded in agreement and Gerome added a reminder to his phone. As they left, T-Bone looked back and gave me a wink. I smiled and offered a shy wave in response. The front door banged closed and they were gone.
Jack rummaged in his desk drawer and counted out five crisp one-hundred dollar bills. "Nice work today. There you go, Cutie," He offered, pushing the money across the desk in my direction.
"For me?" I inquired in surprise.
"You earned it," Jack replied. "Hey, you interested in doing any more work? You got a really cute, fresh look that the camera just loves. I could use a backup on that Asian Girls shoot next week."
"Backup?" I responded, confused.
"Yeah, those two Asian chicks - total anal freaks for all that black cock, but they're bat-shit crazy and unreliable. Could be they flake on me next Tuesday. Wouldn't be the first time. Then I got two dozen stunt cocks I got to pay for nothing. So look, I'll pay you two hundred just to show. If the Asians are here, then you just earned a two-bill bonus for doing nothing. If they bail, then I'll pay you their one-thousand dollars to step in. We'll redo the title in editing -- Football team does the cheerleader's end zone -- something like that. I mean, yeah, it's taking it up the ass from two dozen big black cocks, but for a thousand bucks..." Jack tapered off, looking up at me from his desk with a hopeful expression. Still in a daze from various unknown chemicals and a heady fog of sexual satisfaction, I paused for a moment. A thousand dollars sure seemed like easy money... Despite all reservations, I found myself nodding in agreement.
"Great!" Jack proclaimed, scratching a note into his planner. "I've also got an opening in a few weeks for a girlie threesome. You into the chick-on-chick thing?" I shrugged, not clear on what he meant. "Nothing special," Jack assured me casually. "Just your typical exercise workout goes lesbian. Tight yoga pants and butt plugs to start. Then some face pissing and fisting, wrapping up with a lot of hard strap-on action." I was stunned into silence, not understanding most of those words. Jack chose to interpret that as my confirmation and made another note in his calendar. "Perfect. I'll call you when we get a date finalized on that."
"Oh, and one more thing..." Jack called out as I made my way towards the door. "You interested into doing any work for private collectors? Not all the girls feel comfortable with that, so it's cool if you say no. They are offering five-grand though, so I figured I would ask. My cut on that is ten percent."
"Ah... What would I have to do?" I inquired, concerned, but also tempted by the large sum.
Jack paused, scratching the back of his head as he seemed hesitant to answer. "Stallions," he finally admitted, followed by a long pause. "Look, you can say no. Forget I even asked..."
"Stallions... like... horses? Sex with horses?" I replied in shock. A nervous tremor shivered up my spine. "Aren't horses like really... big?" I whispered.
Jack nodded. "Clydesdales -- Family pets, I guess. The client wants you with three of them." He spread his hands to demonstrate a two foot gap, approximating the monstrous length of a horse cock. My hand flew up to cover my gaping mouth. "I'll... I'll think about it," I promised. "I do like horses..."
"Every little girl does," Jack agreed with a wink and a grin. I'll send the client some sample photos from today's shoot. I'm sure you'll get the gig."
With my mind awhirl with the all these opportunities presented to me, I left the photography studio. The bright sun and a gentle breeze helped to clear my head and the lingering effects of the funny cigarette and strange white powder began to fade. With a rumble and a squeal, the city bus came to a halt at the designated stop and the doors hissed open. I stepped on, fumbling in my dress to retrieve one of the large bills Jack had given me. The driver looked at me in annoyance. "What, are you kidding me? I ain't got change for a hundred!" I sighed in frustration and stepped back off the bus, flush with cash, yet ironically unable to purchase a two-dollar bus ticket.
Grumbling to myself, I set off on foot on the mile-long walk back to the school. Numerous blocks passed as I wore down the distance. Nearing the center of town, a prominent sign in a well-kept storefront caught my eye. BENTLEY PHOTOGRAPHY SERVICES -- WEDDINGS -- PROM -- YEARBOOK PHOTOS. I paused, a rush of confusion surging through me. I fumbled in the pocket of my dress, finding the Main Street address number Sister Margaret had written down for me. "811" read the note. I looked up at the address clearly printed on the Bentley Photography door. Realization dawned. I slowly rotated the paper note one hundred eighty degrees. "118" it now read, matching the address on the door. I smiled. Sister Margaret always said that everything happens for a reason. So I could only consider it divine providence which had led me to the wrong address and Jack's studio. I stepped inside the Bentley studio, hoping I was still in time to get my yearbook photo taken. Sister Margaret would be most displeased if I missed my second appointment.