If She Were a Mermaid

The Master's cock started to thicken as soon as the warm soft flesh of the girl's cheek was pressed against it. B took the limp staff and pressed its bulbous head against C's lips. The girl didn't have any resistance left in her. She opened her mouth and began to suck. B laced her fingers into the dark strands of the girl's hair, and then pushed the girl's head down onto the Master's cock. His shaft got rigid and gradually transformed from pink to reddish-purple. C's jaw got sore so quickly. It was likely because of the tension and stress her body had been subjected to recently.

"You can take a bit more." B said, and she forced the girl's head down impaling her throat on the Master's thick cock-head.

C gagged and tried to get the meat out of her mouth, but B would not have any of it. C's jaw burned and she felt she couldn't take it much longer. She hoped the man would just cum already, even if it was in her mouth.

The Master pulled his cock out of C's mouth without cumming, and he got up to his knees on the bed. He took one of C's hands and put it on his shaft, indicating she should stroke him. Then he grabbed the girl's hair. B turned to lie on her back, and spread her knees wide apart.

"You need to get B ready now." The master then shoved the girl's face down toward the elder woman's crotch.

As demoralizing as it was to be mouth-raped by the man, it was even more so to have to service the woman. It was a betrayal of some sort B could not well explain. B had never had sexual relations with a woman. The "college experimentation" that men fantasized was part of every woman's experience had not been part of C's life.

With one hand stroking the man and the other trying to hold herself up, C's shoulders were in agonizing pain in no time. She was a fit woman, but something about what she had gone through made her weak. It was probably a mix of diet, the damp coldness her body had been subjected to for so long, the stress, and, perhaps, some atrophy from the time she had been bound to the cot. She tried to exercise when she was free, but her options were limited inside the tiny cell.

B grabbed the girl's head and pulled C's face into her pussy. The blond ground her sloppy wet sex against the younger woman's face. She rubbed the girl's lips across her clit roughly.

"Alright. Get out of the way, watch, and learn. You need to be able to do this." The Master said.

C moved to the edge of the bed, and lay exhaustedly on her side. The Master and B proceeded to have sex in a wide variety of styles from very ordinary missionary position to complicated and physically-challenging "Kama Sutra" poses like "Double Crab" and "Wife of Indra".

It was not long before C succumbed to the comfort of the soft clean-smelling bed, and drifted off. She awoke to a series of sharp slaps across the face. She was fuzzy-headed and it took a minute to realize where she was and what was happening.

"Assume the last position in which I fucked B." The Master said, irritated.

"I... uhh..." C said, having clearly been asleep.

"ASSUME THE POSITION!" The Master said loudly. It was terrifying, yet she sensed that he was not really angry. He didn't seem to get angry, but used the impression of anger as a tool. It made him all the more scary to her.

C crawled to the middle of the bed, and lay on her stomach not knowing what to do. The Master forced her legs apart, and then crammed his cock into her ass. C had had anal sex before, but always with lots of lube, lots of patience, and with a smaller cock. All that she had the benefit of this time was the remnants of B's slick pussy juice, and that became gummed up in short order. Her ass became raw and sore. He climaxed in her backside.

"Clean me up." The Master demanded as he turned and lay on his back.

B showed C to the bathroom, and instructed her about how to clean up the master to his satisfaction and so that they could resume safely. As C was doing this all, the cum was creeping out of her ass, and she felt so dirty as it drizzled down her thighs.

"Now, since you can't be trusted to be a diligent student, you will need to stand here while we run through this again." The Master said manhandling C into a standing position about two feet from the bed's edge, and setting his book on top of her head.

"If this book falls, I'm going to punch you in your filthy cunt." The Master said.

The Master proceeded to go through the long complex sequence of positions again. C tried to remember the sequence. She feared there would be a test, and what the punishment would be if she got the answers wrong. She kept getting distracted. It was harder to stand still than she would have ever imagined, and to concentrate studiously as she did so was exponentially more taxing. Her calves, of all things, started to burn and quiver.

Finally, the Master finished, and he exited the bed. He took the book of the girl's head.

"Good girl." He said stroking her cheek and wiping away the tears.

C collapsed onto the foot of the bed.

** C awoke in the middle of the night lying cross the foot of the bed. Someone had put a blanket over her. It was storming outside, and when the lightening flashed, illuminating the room, she could see that the Master and B were intermingled on the bed and seemed to be sleeping soundly. How they could sleep so soundly among the booming thunder claps, the lightening that lit the deepest corners of the room, and the fat rain droplets spattering cacophonously against the windowpanes was beyond C.

C eased off the bed, careful not to disturb the two lovers. She crawled on all-fours toward the door. Once in the hall, she stood and tip-toed toward the kitchen. She had noticed a side door to the outside next to the door that led down to the cellar.

Despite the din of the storm, C's heart seemed to clench every time the wood flooring of the old house creaked. It took every ounce of her will power to not take off in a dead sprint, but she knew that would be futile. Each slow step she took, she was sure that Master would call to her. Then she would be banished back to the cellar where she might be left alone for weeks. It didn't sound like torture until one experienced it first hand.

C wished she had brought the blanket with her, but she wasn't about to go back for it. There were no clothes or rain slickers to be seen. She opened the door and pushed forward out into the dark. The rain painfully stung her nubile body as it was propelled slantwise into her, and her body became soaked and shivering cold almost immediately.

C realized she was at the will of the lightening to see where she was going. She spun slowly trying to see some faint light - a village, a farmhouse, anything. There was nothing. When the lightening would crack, she looked around to try to get her bearings.

Looking past the house down to low ground, she saw nothing but a dark churning ocean capped with suds. In the next flash, she oriented on high ground. Surely there would be a village on the other side of that rise. She ran for the hill in the darkness hugging herself in a futile attempt to stave off the cold.

She tripped and went down headlong into the sodden muddy earth. Bruised and abraded, she got up and continued. The unseen slippery mud rolled down her body. Each step felt heavier and was slower. Her only hope was that there would be some manner of civilization on the other side of that low hill.

Staggering in the darkness, she felt the wind gust hard and knew she must be near the top of the rise.

With great serendipity, a lightening flash illuminated C's world and she realized that she was about to step over a precipice. Another flash illuminated the waves beating on the rocks thirty feet below.

Completely demoralized, C sank to her knees and wept. There was no path to freedom. This was her life. This was her nadir. She thought, "If I were a mermaid, I could swim away from this rock back to my old life... but why should I want to. Was that past life so great?" When she reflected upon it truly, she concluded that she didn't love her job, and that she was tired of being alone. None of the men she dated made her love them, or hate them, with such passion. But then, there was B. There were always the rocks below.

"Come, girl, there's nothing for you down there." The voice of B yelled against the buffeting wind and storm song. "Trust me, I once took a good look at them myself."

C turned to see the older woman behind her. B was wrapped in something, and held it open so that C could join her for the walk back.

"Just so I can be your little porn fluffer girl?" C shouted through angry tears.

"That's not your role." B said.

"It sure seemed like it. What is my role then?"

"My replacement."

"Oh... and how are you getting free of this place?"

"By dying. I have a terminal illness in its early stages."

C didn't know how to respond to the statement and sat jaw agape for a moment. "... And he's just going to let you die here on this rock in the ocean?"

"He sent me to specialists. They offered me the choice between a treatment that might extend my life with sickly days, or the mostly painless progress of the disease that would take me quietly some night. I chose the latter."

"All this... what you are going through. It will get better, but it's necessary - a necessary evil."

C crawled to her feet peering over the precipice once more. She weighed the options of life and death, and then went to B.