Rough, Gang Bang Erotica
"Waif," A Dirty Martini Sex Story by J. Brooke
I am English, British, mind you, a trust fund child, rich,
privileged, father a Lord, BP exec. I am spoiled, yet shy, a secret bitch, a
secret life, there are two of me. I am a blond, polar cold blue eyes that are
no windows to my soul, white skin so ultra-violet, the sunlight seems to
reflect through it. I am whiter than the sun. My veins are blood blue like
throbbing rivers, evident, hyper-linked from mind to loins. I am slender girl,
5ft 6, 102 pounds.
Dislike the sun, open the coffin lid, night, shadows,
secrets, nightmares, a vampirish pixie, Caligula re-known. I giggle. I have not
come to Jamaica for the sunlight, nor the sea, nor the ganja. I am here for
entirely different reasons. I am bored, fucked up, quite normal, you see, I have
special needs and I am on summer Holiday.
Imagining that the beach along my Villa is striking, I do
not see it, nor feel it, nor do I relate to nature’s beauty. I am self
obsessed, indulged, terrified of the other ME, I get everything I want because
I am beautiful and a savage, a hoodlum, yet I am shy. The British are, you
know. Yet I, me, is insecure, nothing. Not like HER. Laying here on the deck
chair, shielded by the umbrella, near the pool, I will get exactly what I want,
need now, as I always have, for, you see, I have special needs. My brain feels
like it might ricochet off my skull, I might throw a fit, if I don't get it
all.
There he is now, the man who will help me. He is Jamaican,
not a large man, no dreads, nothing for a shy girl like me to fear, a suit,
white shirt, smiling, Jamaicans smile so, he is so blue-ink-black beautiful. I
stand. I am wearing a cotton nothing of a slip, sandals, sunglasses. I have the
figure of a young boy, Body Dimorphic Disorder you see. He walks up, he is a
gentleman, polite to me, I smile, he waits. I ask him if those are the papers
in his hand, he says yes, that they are.
As before, I ask him if he is sure. He replies that the
medical testing is of this morning, rest assured please miss, he is
confident and thorough and because I know him, I sigh, lower my eyes, blush,
look at the six paper documents. They seem correct. He waits, I bend to my
purse, pull out the stacks of English pounds, and pay him. He guarantees me it
will be better than the last time. I can hardly wait.
We drive for some minutes, through the malevolent slums of
Kingston. Poverty and death frighten me, yet I have seen it before. Outside,
the sewers, the garbage, shanties. There, the prison looms, swallowing my
fear. I can hardly breathe, heart hammering.
The other ME feels her vagina grip, shudder, become moist
in anticipation of the unknown, and then we are through the gates. The blue
uniformed guards wave, my escort waves back. I avoid their stares, I am almost
embarrassed. The other ME can hardly wait, SHE is a very fucked up girl.
Time passes, we are moving now, my throat is dry, my teeth
feel like chalk against my tongue. SHE is drooling, almost literally. I
ignore HER. Yet, SHE is so wanting, so sure. HER endurance for her singular
wants is remarkable. I wish I could be like HER, I am HER, I remember, we are
the same creature. Then my escort leads me into a room. The floors are dirt,
the walls stained, I can smell semen, urine, blood and sweat. My body shudders.
Daring not peek at the cells, my better half allows my eyes to rise, There are
six of them, behind the iron bars. I turn, a coquettish school girl, demure,
make eye contact with the man who has led me here, it is not Belgravia, Sloan
Square, Bond street, it is putrid, it is beautiful.
My escort asks me if I am ready, my body double whispers
yes, SHE is, he nods, smiles, his teeth are white, he assures me that all is
ready, not to worry, death is not on the menu, not just yet. He takes my hand,
squeezes, walks from the room, the iron door clanks, my heart thumps. I dare
not look, my breathing is laminated to my heart, a jacked up electrical power
line, frayed wiring like some flop in Putney Town. My entire body is pulsing,
sparking as if a 220-voltage current is pumping through it.
Then, SHE overcomes me, SHE always does, and I am HER now,
invincible, erotic, a calliope, a waif of almost no substance, skin stretched
along HER bones as if it’s a condom canvass rung-ed tight. SHE, my
secret ghost, turns, looks at the six huge men, black men, muscled and of
girth, dread locks, naked men, smiling, staring and quiet men, massively
endowed men and it is time, they are my men.
My eyes won’t blink, rabid, stark, blue marbles. My heart
hemorrhaging, I am here now, I am fearless, I have needs, special needs, so I
allow my smock to twirl to my knees, I am naked, a shoe string stood on end, a
waif of alabaster skin. My sandals slip off, there is dirt on my feet, mud,
filth, something hot, liquid is spilling down my inner thighs. Fuck I haven't even
begun, already I can smell the sex, exuding, flowing from the sewer pipe of my
cunt and mind. Smiling at the men, I begin to strut, teasing, dancing, trailing
my fingers along the bars, plink, plink, plink, so confident, so wonderful, so
bloody mad.
I see that their penises, to a man, are engorged. They are
more than I could have dreamed of. Stepping back, I pout, pucker, air kiss a
kiss to one massive man. He grins, his teeth are inlaid with gold, his tongue
is pink, his penis something so beautiful I almost begin to weep. His hair is
braided with aloe, falling down muscled and cut shoulders. I can see his belly,
it is expanding, his breathing stilted, his eyes white and black, stark, and I
begin to purr as I move close to the cells. I, me, HER am causing these carnal
and beautiful creatures to covet, to desire, to want me. The show is about to
begin.
Flirting a bit, I tease, lay my fingers along my shaved
pubic skin. Bending at the knees, I touch the moisture spilling out of me, then
my lips, my tongue. I purse my lips, tilt my finger to the man, flirt my white
eyebrows at him. He smiles. I am crazed. Looking past him, I tweak at the other
men, all different, all-powerful, all engorged, watching, I wink at them. They
seem to love me, they know, they understand. I throw another crippled kiss at
them so they will not feel left out. I curl my finger to him, he nods, moves to
the bars, his penis, ten inches, most likely more, corded and thick, it matches
my wrist, what a beautiful thing it is. It frees from the bars, I walk up to
him, close, I touch his face, act girlish, then my hand slips down. It is hot,
humid in the cells, I feel sweat pouring down my body. Pirouetting for him, I
tilt my small behind at him, spread my cheeks, slap my butt. I am in full sail
now. I simply cannot wait, not a moment, not a second longer. Moving to him, I
take his penis in my small hand, white against stark black. I begin to hum,
sing, I am melting, as I stroke him. He moans, one of those guttural moments a
lion makes before the hunt. I fall to my knees as if I am praying to a
God, which I am.
I like the filth of the dirt and of the mud on my knees
and toes, it mimics my mind. I take the knob of his penis between my lips,
there is room for both of my hands as well. Perfect. Moving him past my lips,
my cheeks expand, my mouth is tiny and is filled and I hear him moan, as do I.
I stroke him as I suck and revolve my tongue along his blood vessels, he
reaches thick fingers through the bars, wraps the back of my head with them, and
plunges his penis into my throat. Gagging, I cannot stop, I do not want to
stop, both hands running the limits of his penis. I can feel the veins
throbbing, they are like anchor chain. SHE is ready, he tenses, jerks and
explodes his semen down my throat. Screaming internally, I back off, I want to
taste him as he releases me and I masturbate him and my mouth fills. I am so
crazed that I stand, see the rut on his face, semen dripping from my mouth,
down my tiny breasts and I swallow. Perhaps I will steal his power.
Laughing, I turn, walk away, fall to my knees and palms. I
am an animal covered with semen and mud. My back arches, I scream, shake my
head wildly, my body is percolating, clit like the tip of a burning cigarette,
I have never been happier.
Standing, I prance a little for them, a barefoot tramp on
a roll, pout again. His power tastes like salt water in my stomach, warm,
saline, a river of his life force filling me with power. I move to the door,
run my fingers along the bars, teasing, taunting, I am a bad little girl, such
a filthy slut. It is what I was born to be.
The men watch me, only me. I wag my finger at a big
fellow, tall, small hips, road bump abs, his penis erect, bigger than the other
mans. He moves to the bars, I whisper something to him, he looks at me oddly. I
called him a "woose nigger." I am not a prejudiced type, hate that
vile word, the other me said it. He is a God, I simply want him to understand
the depths of my blasphemy, that I have no dignity, and that I love him.
Kissing him on his lovely African lips, I back away, spy the door, it is
unlocked, dare I walk through it? I must.
I clasp the iron rungs, it is all that separates me from
my death, perhaps my redemption, it is time, no reason to linger. I open the
door and enter a world of men. They are meters away. I am waifish, humble,
confident, egocentric. Did I mention that the British are eccentric? I place my
back to the bars, and stare them down. To a man, they smile. The man I
whispered the profanity to walks up to me. I can feel the tip of his penis
pressing against my tummy. He stands a foot away from me, just staring,
smiling, his eyes are serious, joyful, violent, so very handsome. My hand falls
along his penis, it can barely wrap around the entire girth. I stare up at him,
his chin is struck square, powerful, and then I purse my lips and say, “What
are you waiting for, Rasta Boy, are you not a man?” He chuckles, turns, and
looks over his shoulder. The men are laughing, they seem to like my spirit, me,
always me.
Gripping my neck, he squeezes. It is a vice as my eyeballs
roll, rotate in my skull, slot open, as he lifts me effortlessly, rips me back
against the bars. Unable to breath, my eyes pop, jerk, roll around their
sockets, my legs and feet are confetti, dangling, suspended in air as my heals
bang the rungs and my hands beat at his broad shoulders. He is staring intently
at my face. I am contorted in wonder. Then, in one motion, he takes a fist,
presses it to my vagina and plunges it deep to his wrist and lifts. I SWOOSH
air as the pain erupts through my cunt and I dangle like a cut stringed
marionette at the top of his raised arm. Laughing, he nods at his friends, as
my hands reach back and white knuckle around the bars, screaming, moaning, the
back of my head is banging against the rungs.
With a little hitch with his arm, he goes deeper. I scream
again, WHOOSH, open mouth, uttering, stuttering, fuck, Ugh, fuck, ugh, maybe, I
don't know, as remnants of saliva and blood spill down my chin. Realizing that
I have bitten my lip, I feel as if my spine has cracked.
The other men smile, enjoying me, loving me, desiring me.
I am not querulous, as he rips me forward, holds me air born above his dreads.
My talons are slapping at his shoulders and my legs splaying and shattering
along his muscled torso now, held aloft for them to adore me. I am an idol, I
feel an orgasm liquefy my spleen, I shriek, whippet my blond hair back and
forth, my body granulates, one white sugar cell after another. I am positive
that now they love me, I have become a deity, the goddess of their universe,
elevated to the sky, for them to adore me.
No hesitation, he violently heaves me through the air. My
vagina sucks out, as I twist across the room, hit the wall, sparks in my head
as I spill to the floor, grovel like a sow in the mud, moaning, my eyes
bleached in bliss, pleasure. Grinding to my hands and knees, I leer at them as
I taste blood along my teeth.
Whispering, I giggle, "FAGOTS." They seem to
understand, as I fall to my back against the filth of the wall, allow my legs
to spill open. I am exposed, my vagina pink, I am grinning through bloodstains.
They seem to appreciate that.
They nod looks, my man moves to me, slaps me, my head
bucks. I jerk it back, spit at him, giggle. He rips a fist of blond, drags me
across the mud, slashes me to my stomach, wraps monstrous hands around my
nothing waste. Suspended, I am on my palms and knees again. I feel his finger
in my ass, I whimper, plead, lie and beg. Then, in one motion, he drives his
penis into my ass. WHOOSH, WHOOSH, air bellows out of my cute mouth. Screaming,
I beg again, pound my fists in the mud, arch my back, wail like a wolf as he
leans back, falls on his ass, and drives his penis into my stomach.
Paralyzed, brutalized, my quiver mouth parts, my teeth are
chattering. I quake at the bulge in my tummy, my teeth feel as though they are
splintering castanets. I cannot move, nothing cleaver to say but gurgles, his
massive hands wrapped around me, no control in my thighs, they flow open. Another
cock, I gulp, my ass is choking to death, my new man falls to his knees,
smiles, places his penis close to me, I see the vine veins on it. Are they
real, these Gods?
He touches the tremors breaking my lips, then enters my
cunt, my mind cannot comprehend, as it goes white as he begins to fuck me. My
tiny feet begging to dance in the mud, my cunt shrieking, ORGASM, again and
again, the penis in my ass, oh fucking God, there is no God, my entire body
feeling as if it’s a blister filled with kilned boiling mercury breaking apart.
Anguish, joy, rack me as liquids flush out of me, glistening on his chest.
Wailing, I bat at his face, kiss him, he never stops, as his face contorts, and
then he is out, his hand snarled around my head as he lunges his penis into my
mouth, down my throat and ejaculates. I am immobile, my hands wrap his cock, I
want every bit of it. Mind lost, a vile vagabond vagrant of thought, my mouth
fills and I vomit, perfect, I am filth, it is what I am.
He falls back, spent. I am a crouched reptile, pink tongue
flicking at the scent of my own sex. I begin to move, up and down. I want his
cock piercing through my belly, coming out my mouth. My man behind me is
groaning, he appreciates me. I feel it, the absolute finality of him as his
penis engorges in my ass. It is poking skin against my tummy, I see it as he
growls, moans, violently pushes me away.
Twisting around, on hands and knees now, cunt, girl,
bitch, I crawl to him, grab his penis, place my lips around it, I want
nothing to go wasted. I rack my head down, his magnificent muscled body ripples
as he ejaculates, I swallow every bit of it, almost. Throwing my head back, I
scream, whip my hair like a banshee back and forth, his semen and my own blood
spraying him and my white skin. It is a miracle, my sin, I looked demented, he
sees it, I love him so.
Time passes, hours perhaps, their endurance is
remarkable, SWOOSH, broken back, another penis in my cunt. Crumbling to the
mud, I weep, bellow at the moon, slap my palms against the mud, squish it
between my finger, I want to eat it, fill my stomach with it. He lifts me,
flops me around, my Lotus legs wrap around his waist, my hands on his
shoulders, eye to eye, am I dreaming, or simply mad.
He is a fat man, powerful, his grip on my waist is undeniable,
Iron, brass tongs, he moves like a tractor combine. We rock, ORGASM, I tilt my
head back and wail, I lean, kiss him, grinding my teeth along his tongue.
Frantic, I am ripped apart, there must be more, he tastes like cigarettes,
white rum. I love it. He is unstoppable, a Zeus God of rage. Then unexpected,
my other man, SWOOOSH, my lungs collapse again as he drives into my ass, I
scream, panic, I gouge my fingers into my man’s dreads. Ripping at his hair, I
hold his head rigid, leer into his eyes, he looks terrified of me, and they I
go crazy girl on him, screaming, laughing as he grits pearl teeth, comes inside
of me. I grab his dreads, kiss him, he rips away, backs away, fear on his onyx
face, as I splat to my knees, fucked in the ass, I soldier up, plunge forward,
impaled, perfect.
Lunging, I grab my fat man’s penis as he finishes
ejaculating along my lips, my face and breasts, on my knees, black out now, almost, I fight to
stay alive. "CHRIST" I scream as I ORGASM again, and AGAIN. My man
behind groans, falls away, it feels like a fucking tie rod has been just been
sucked out of my ass, as I turn, whack and bat at him with my white finger
nails. I grin at him to get that fucking cock close. Fear is welded on his
face, but he moves too slow as I leap for it, plunge it towards my lips, grin
again as whiteness wails down my chin.
Then, he is away from me, gawking, standing with the other
men, leering at me in awe, something akin to fear, as I raise my English Rose
eyes to them, sitting there on my rump, exposed, a petulant peacock of nothing,
giggling, licking my lips, raising my shy eyes to them. Standing, reeling,
trying not to black out, fluffing my white hair, I wipe semen and blood from my
lips like I had applied my lipstick wrong. I tilt my head as I am waiting for
more. No? Fine. They have busted, then I smile, do a little head flip, I
want to look pretty for them.
Walking to the door, I turn and whisper, "Thank you,
my darlings." I walk through the door, grab my dress and sandals, I am
gone.
That is how I, WE, me, spent my summer Holiday, wasn't it
simply glorious, giggles.
Originally published April 2011