Chapter 1

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma, Coercion, Fiction, .

Desc: Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 1 - How a young shy housewife found a new profession.

The story I’m about to relate, happened to me, and it all began in September 1961, when I was twenty two years old. It was now a month since my husband and I had been on holiday with our new son; who’d been born in January that year. We’d had a week in a hired caravan at Skegness, a British holiday resort on the north east coast. The summer of 1961, was like the two years previous had been, exceptionally sunny, and ideal for a UK holiday. So along with most other young women in Skegness, I’d spent a lot of my time on the beach in a bikini; which was at that time, the height of fashion for beach wear.

So, I guess you could say everything in my life up until this point was quite normal. As I’ve said it was now about a month after that holiday, and a few days ago, my husband Gerry had collected our photos from the chemist shop. These were the typical mixture of holiday snaps, but being as we’d got our new baby son with us, most of them were of him. But inevitably, in some of the photos, I was the person holding him. And one of the photos Gerry had taken, was of me lying with the baby sleeping alongside me. And in just about every photo I was in, I was wearing my new bikini.

Now unbeknown to me, my Gerry had taken these photos into work, to show his work mates. Well when he arrived home, and I was busy dishing out his meal, he said, “How would you like a part time job?”

“When would I get time to do a job? You’re not gonna go on again about me working evenings as a barmaid? I’ve told you before, by the time of done all the housework and been looking after our Henry all day, I’m not up to standing serving behind a bar all night.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s modelling.”

“Modelling? What d’you mean, modelling?”

“You know what modelling is, trying on clothes and having your picture taken.”

“Yes I know what that kind of modelling is, but whatever gave you the idea that I could do anything like that. I haven’t got the figure for it.”

“That’s not what Ken says. He says they’re always looking to find girls like you.”

“Which Ken? And what d’you mean by girls like me?”

“Ken, dad’s mate, lives across the road at number thirty.”

“Your dad’s gardening friend?”

“Yes.”

“Well what would he know about modelling jobs. And you didn’t explain what he meant by girls like me?”

“It isn’t just gardening he’s interested in, he’s an amateur photographer. And he’s in a photography club. And when he saw the photos of you in that bikini, he said with a body like yours, you could be making good money doing part time modelling.”

“You’d better be kidding me.” And then seeing his face colour up, and the guilt, “Oh no, you haven’t been showing those photos around to your mates at work?”

“Of course I have. Why shouldn’t I?”

“I’m almost naked in them pictures!”

“Well it didn’t worry you on the beach with other blokes walking past and getting an eyeful.”

“That’s different; it’s what you do on the beach.”

“So that’s all anyone at work has seen, you sunbathing on the beach.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“No, I don’t. And I can’t remember any easy money offers coming your way up in Skeggy. But showing your picture to Ken has given you a chance to pick-up some easy cash. We could certainly do with some since you packed up your job to have your baby.”

“My baby? I thought he was our baby.”

“Yours, ours, it doesn’t matter. All I’m saying is money doesn’t grow on trees, and with just my one pay packet coming in, I can’t see us affording a holiday away next year.”

“So you want me to flaunt my body for some dirty old men to take mucky photos?”

“What d’you mean, flaunt your body? You’d be wearing swimwear and stuff. And don’t say that about Ken, he’s been my dad’s mate for years. And another thing, it was Ken who put a good word in for me and got me my job, so we owe him a favour.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Why not. Ken says they pay their models as much as ten quid for a two hour session, that’s ten times more than I get an hour; and I’m a skilled machinist.”

“So it’s the money that’s got you convinced?”

“Isn’t everything about money? That’s why I go to work. But the thing about this is, you don’t have to work to get it, and it pays really well.”

“And are you okay about these men taking photos of me in a bikini, or stuff? But I don’t suppose Ken enlightened you as to what this other stuff was?”

“Well stuff was just my expression. Ken said you’d look sensational in lingerie; that’s fancy knickers, bras, stockings and all that sexy stuff.”

“I know what lingerie is. But that kind of thing is even more revealing than wearing a bikini. Are you saying it wouldn’t worry you if I was being photographed in skimpy knickers?”

“Well for your information, I challenged Ken on that very point. I said I wouldn’t like the idea of you showing your fanny; even if it was partly hidden by some lacy knickers. And he then turned the whole thing upside down. He said just about every man fancies Marilyn Monroe, or any of the other movie stars. And they’d jump through hoops to get a chance to marry one. And then he pointed out some of the things they’ve worn in films and been photographed in for men’s magazines, and he says that’s probably just the tip of the iceberg. He says that so long as the woman is doing it to earn money, and not just flashing herself to attract a man as a lover, then the husband has nothing to worry about. And when you look at it like that, it makes sense.”

“Well I’m not convinced, so you can tell him I’m not interested.”

“But the man who runs the club will be coming around to see you at half past seven.”

“No? Don’t tell me you’ve arranged it without asking me first?”

“I thought you’d be keen. I’m sorry, but I asked Ken to go around straight from work to see him. It’ll all be sorted by now.”

“But this man, whoever he is, hasn’t even seen what I look like?”

“Ken’s taken your photo to show him.”

I picked up my now empty plate, stormed into the kitchen, and threw it into the sink, where I heard the plate shatter. And then ignoring the consequences of my juvenile tantrum, I stormed up to the bedroom, sat on the bed, and cried my eyes out. I think I’d expected him to realise how wrong he’d been in not only showing those photos of me around, but then compounding his insensitivity, by letting someone take them to a total stranger that neither of us knew. But no, after half an hour of crying, with him not even calling up the stairs to ask if I was alright, I made my way to the bathroom and ran myself a nice hot bath.

I guess I’d been soaking in the hot soapy water for maybe ten to fifteen minutes, when I heard Henry starting to cry. And unlike his ignoring of my crying, within a minute of Henry starting, Gerry was calling up from the bottom of the stairs, “SHEILLA, CAN’T YOU HEAR HENRY CRYING?”

So from my reclining position in the bath, I called back, “I’M IN THE BATH, YOU’LL HAVE TO SEE TO HIM.”

I then heard some indistinguishable mumbled comments as Gerry stomped his way up the stairs. And then maybe a minute or so later, came, “OH MY FUCKING GOD. HE’S FILLED HIS NAPPY. YOU’LL HAVE TO COME AND DEAL WITH IT.”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE INTENDING TO LOOK AFTER HIM ALL EVENING, WHILE I EARNED MONEY FLAUNTING MY BODY.”

“COME ON, YOU’RE NOT BEING FAIR. I’VE NEVER DONE HIS NAPPY BEFORE.”

“SO IT’S TIME YOU LEARNT HOW.”

There was a lot more of the indistinguishable mumbling, where I could only make out the swear words, but I guess he’d at last got my message (loud and clear). But I did however get out of the bath at this point, and by the time I’d arrived in Henry’s bedroom, Gerry had made a clumsy attempt at fitting Henry with a clean nappy. Gerry promptly passed Henry over to me, and without a word, stomped off back down the stairs. Once I’d re-fitted Henry’s nappy, I cuddled him back off to sleep, and then went to my own bedroom to get dressed.

And even now, I can’t explain why I then began to get dressed-up, as if I was going to a party; but that is what I did. Short’ish flared skirt. I say short’ish, because at the time it was considered short, only just concealing my stocking tops (remember, this was just prior to the advent of the mini-skirts popularity). And under it, I wore my prettiest sheer panties. For the top half, I wore a low-cut blouse, with half cup bra. I then spent what time I had left, fixing my hair and lastly, my makeup.

It was whilst I was putting the finishing touches to my make-up, that I heard the knocker on the front door; I glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It said fourteen minutes past seven, it was early; obviously this man was keen. I gave myself one final look, and said quietly, “Oh well, it’ll just have to be good enough.”

But when I walked out onto the landing, my legs turned to jelly, and my tummy went into a turmoil; as I heard Gerry at the foot of the stairs saying, “Ah, you must be Mr Walker, come in.”

As they were shaking hands, and he was replying, I had to hold onto the handrail on the landing, as I was suddenly overcome by a feeling, that at the time I’d not have known how to describe. I now know that what I was experiencing, was the preliminary rush of an arousal.

But from downstairs I heard Mr Walker replying, “Never mind that Mr Walker formality, Bob is what my friends call me.”

“Well okay, come in Bob, but I hope I haven’t got you out here on a wild goose-chase.”

They were now walking into the sitting-room, but I still heard Bob ask, “In what way lad?”

By now my rush was slowly easing off, so I slowly and as silently as I could started to make my way down the stairs as Gerry said, “The wife hasn’t taken too kindly to the idea. I’m not even sure if she’ll come down to see you. If you sit there I’ll go and test the temperature of the water.”

“No lad, you sit down. She’ll have heard me at the door, and if she’s definitely against the idea, there’s nothing I can say that’ll persuade her. We’ll give her fifteen minutes, and if she doesn’t show, we’ll know what her answer is.”

By now I was in the hallway, and as I said about my decision to get myself tarted-up; I have no idea why I didn’t just go back upstairs and wait the fifteen minutes.

But I didn’t.

As I walked into the room, Bob shot to his feet, and dashing towards me with his hand held out for me to shake, he said, “Oh my dear Sheila, you’re more stunning than I’d imagined. I could tell those snapshots weren’t doing you justice. But I never imagined you’d be so vibrant.” He was shaking my hand with his, and clasping both of our hands together with his other hand as he turned and said to Gerry, “I thought you said she wasn’t keen on the idea?”

Gerry was almost stuttering as he replied, “Well I, I mean, I didn’t think she was.”

Before either of them said anymore, I said, “I’m not. I only came down out of politeness.”

It was Bob who spoke first, “Well no matter why you came down, all I can say is, I’m really glad you did. I suppose you do know how ravishing you look?”

I eased my hand from his, and as I gave him an old-fashioned look, I said, “There really is no point, I can tell flattery when I hear it.”

“I’m sure you can my dear. But there is a world of difference between fatuous flatteries dished out to impress. And a genuine compliment given to show appreciation for the effort you’ve obviously gone to on my behalf.”

“Who said I’d gone to any special efforts for you?”

“Nobody my dear, but surely you’re not trying to imply that you dress-up like this just for an evening in watching TV?”

“No, I told you. I was brought up to receive guests to our house in a civil manner.”

“Well, in a roundabout manner, that does mean you went to all that trouble just for me. So it was only polite that I should pay you the compliment that you deserve.”

“Okay maybe I did put a bit of makeup on, but as I said at the start, I’m not interested in modelling at your club.”

“Can I ask why?”

“I don’t want to be rude, but other than getting some kinky kick, why else would a group of grown men want to take photos of a girl in her underwear?”

“Why wouldn’t we? We sometimes take days out in the countryside and photograph animals. Sometimes landscapes. We even go to car rallies to photograph cars, and railway stations to photograph trains. So why not girls in swimwear?”

“And underwear.”

“Yes, and underwear. Sometimes we even hire professional models for classical nude work; but they’re very expensive, so that doesn’t happen very often.”

“Okay, so you’re saying this is all respectable, and it’s the photography itself that you’re interested in. So if I was to consider modelling, where is your club, and what kind of facilities has it got?”

“My dear, the fact that you’ve asked me about the facilities, shows that you are considering it; and a sensible girl you are for doing so. And as for where, we hold normal club sessions, we meet in the St Georges Church hall, that’s in Banks Road in Coundon. And yes the facilities there are somewhat limited, but it has got a toilet, and a small kitchen. Some ladies prefer to use the kitchen as a changing room. But not all, I mean when you’re modelling lingerie, getting changed from one skimpy to another hardly warrants hiding yourself away. But having told you where we normally hold our sessions, I have to say that our events are already planned and booked-up for the next six weeks. And being as you’re a novice at this and a hesitant one at that. I’d not book you in for a full session until we’ve assessed your willingness.”

“So what does that mean assessing my willingness?”

“I’d have thought that was pretty obvious, it would be silly to book the church hall, and have all the club members there, only to find that when it comes to it, you’re not prepared to wear some item, or pose in some position. No, if you want a try out, there’ll only be me and Ken taking photos, and two other models.”

“Two other models, so there’ll be three of us being assessed at the same time?”

“No no. The other two are men, we always use these two lads, they’re about your age, and they’ve got bodies like Greek agonises. They help to put first timers at their ease, and assist with posing them; they’re very good.”

Hearing talk of other men modelling with me, Gerry asked, “These blokes, they will be fully dressed, won’t they?”

“Of course not. If they’re in the frame of any shot, they’ll be dressed according to what your wife is wearing.”

“Do you mean modelling with her? Touching her?”

“Touching, holding, embracing or whatever the shot requires. Don’t tell me it’s you who is getting cold-feet now?”

“No, I was just asking.”

“Look if you’re not interested, just say so now?”

“Yes, I am interested.” And then he looked towards me, saying, “But I don’t know about Sheila.”

I said, “I might be, but you still haven’t said where this assessment will take place?”

“At my house. I live on my own, and I’ve got one of my bedrooms laid out as a kind of studio. No changing room I’m afraid, just a curtain wire stretched across one corner shielding off the alcove; it’s enough for a modicum of privacy. But like I said, if we get on to the skimpy stuff, privacy is a bit pointless.”

“And money? If this isn’t a proper modelling session, how much will I get paid?”

“Payment by results. So if you’re sticking to everyday swimwear, and you pose properly, you could come home with four quid. But if we find you’re a natural at it, and you let go of your inhibitions, then a tenner is possible.”

“I think Gerry and me will have to talk about it, and then Gerry can let Ken know.

So with very little more said, Bob had gone and we were alone. We talked it through all evening, and by the time we’d gone to bed, I’d agreed to go along to Bob’s assessment session.

It seemed that the only thing that my Gerry was concerned about, was how much access these two male models were going to have to my ‘fanny’, as he used to call it. I’m not sure whether he was in any way concerned about them seeing me naked, but from our talk, he didn’t appear to be.

When at one point, I brought up the possibility of me being raped; he instantly dismissed this as silliness on my part. And when I said I’d read something in a magazine, that stated that if a man, or men get full access to a woman’s intimate areas, it is possible for them to arouse her to the point where her sub-conscious carnal desires will override her moral will-power.

And his reaction to that was, “That’s just a woman’s justification to excuse herself when she’s been caught-out fucking with someone she shouldn’t have been fucking with.”

So no matter what concerns I could come up with, Gerry found one way or another to dismiss them. And so as I’ve already said by the time we’d gone to bed, I’d agreed to go along to Bob’s assessment session; meaning that Gerry would need to talk to Ken the next day, and arrange it.

So when Gerry arrived home from work, my first question to him was, “Well, has it been arranged?”

“Not yet, Kens going around to see him straight from work, and he says he’ll let me know what Bob says tomorrow.”

Now I can’t explain why, but on hearing I was going to have to wait another day before knowing what was going to happen, I kind of felt disappointed. Maybe that’s not really the right word, but it definitely took the wind out of my sails.

So feeling somewhat in the doldrums, I dished out our meal, and we sat down to eat. After tea, we sat in front of the TV, and we sat there in silence; and although I can’t speak for Gerry, I have absolutely no idea what I’d been watching. I was miles away, running and re-running in my head, differing versions of what I imagined might happen at this assessment.

Well at around nine o’clock, there was a knock at the front door. And as Gerry’s shocked reaction was similar to mine, that’s to say, almost jumping out of his skin. It’s a fair assumption that he’d been in as deeper trance as me.

But it was him who answered the door, and then brought Ken through to the back room, saying, “Its Ken, he’s brought a form for us to sign.”

I’d turned the TV off when Gerry had gone to the door, so we both sat alongside each other at the table and began to read this printed form.

And unlike today, when just about every household has access to facilities to print out documents of this sort, back then, a printed form of this sort always looked very official. And once we started reading, it soon became obvious by the highfaluting gibberish, that it was a legal document. That’s to say, something you might get from a solicitor, and no matter how many times you read it, you still have no idea what the hell it means.

I looked at Gerry and asked, “D’you understand it?”

“Not really. I think that by signing it, we’re agreeing to something. But with all those why so evers, what so evers, whom so evers, and not withstandings, I can’t make out what we’re actually agreeing to.”

Ken said, “To be honest, there is only one consent form, no matter what type of modelling you’re doing. So effectively, if you sign, it covers any and all members of the club, and any other models involved against any kind of claim for sexual assault. It’s a standard form used by all photography clubs, ever since a woman accused some chap up in a club in Nottingham of forcing himself on her.”

Gerry said, “So if we sign it, it means any of you could just force Sheila to have sex with you, and if she then went to the police, they’d say, ‘You agreed to it’?”

“Well yes, technically. But that never happens. It’s just club rules.”

“And if we don’t sign?”

“Well like I said, its club rules. If you don’t sign, there’s no way she can model.”

Gerry looked at me, “What d’you think?”

I looked at Ken, “D’you mind if Gerry and I go out into the hall and discuss this?”

“Of course not. But if you want, I can go, and if you decide to go ahead, Gerry can bring the signed form into work tomorrow.”

So that was what we decided to do, and once Ken had gone, we were again weighing up the pros and cons. And although this went on right into the night, even after we’d gone to bed, by the morning, we were still going backwards and forwards over old ground, and neither of us were clearly in favour either way. I was slightly more biased towards forgetting the whole thing, whereas Gerry was slightly biased the other way.

So even when I said, “I’ll do it if you really want me to.”

He said, “I can’t make that choice, and impose it onto you. In the end, it has to be your choice.”

“I don’t know Ken in the same way as you know him, so my reservations are based on having to sign that form, and in doing so, giving him and Bob cart-blanche to do as they want with me. So being as you’ve known him for years, if the roles were reversed, which way would you decide then?”

“I’ve told you, I trust him. I wouldn’t even let you go if I didn’t.”

“Okay, just one more question. If I go, and they do force me...”

I didn’t get chance to finish what I was saying before he butted in, “He won’t, he wouldn’t, I know him. Honestly.”

“No, let me finish. Okay, I won’t say force. But persuade me in some way.”

“How can they? Not if you don’t want to. You’d just have to say no.”

“You’re not listening. What I’m afraid of, is that if in some way, they get me so, you know, worked-up, aroused or whatever. If they then have sex with me, will you blame me?”

“Well let’s face it, if it happens that way, it’s hardly anyone else’s fault but yours.”

“In that case give me the form.”

He looked surprised at my request, but he still passed the form over. As I took hold, I brought my other hand across, and began ripping it; and I didn’t stop until it was in shreds on the table.

His eyes were on stalks as he said, “What’d you do that for? Ken might want that form back.”

“Well he’s out of luck then.”

Gerry was more than disgruntled as he set off for work, and if I’m really truthful, even I felt a tinge of disappointment; but I couldn’t really understand why.

But then when Gerry came home after work, he was smiling. And when I asked why, he pulled another of those consent forms from his pocket, saying, “I’ve got Ken’s promise, so as far as I’m concerned, I’ll promise you, if you get fucked, I won’t lay the blame on you. Is that good enough? Will you sign now?”

“I don’t get it. How does Ken’s promise absolve me of any blame?”

“Because if Ken has guaranteed that you won’t get fucked, promising you I won’t blame you is a promise I know I won’t have to break.”

“You still don’t get it. I want you to promise on your own merits. I need to know that whatever happens when I go there, that you won’t say afterwards, it was somehow my fault.”

“Okay I promise that if they fuck you, I won’t blame you. Is that good enough?”

“Providing you mean it. You do, don’t you? No matter what they say? Even if they tell you I said they could, or I didn’t say no, or anything. You will believe me? Not Ken or Bob?”

“Of course I’ll believe you before I’d believe them.”

“Okay pass me the form again.”

“Promise you won’t rip it up this time, Ken was none too pleased when I told him what you’d done; they have to pay out a lot of money for those forms.”

He passed it across, and as I was signing it, I said, “I’ll bet he took some persuading to get him to give you another form?”

“No, surprisingly, it was him who suggested I try again. He told me that I should make that promise you asked for.”

I’d already signed, but I clutched the form tightly as I asked angrily, “Did he? So that wasn’t a real promise, just you making sure you get your own way?”

“No no, he showed me how silly I was being. He said if you had been a wayward wife, and you’d been going to the modelling session with the intention of getting fucked, you’d not have put up so many objections. So he said that even if he was a liar, which he assured me, he wasn’t. He said even if you had been fucked, there was no way I could blame you. So you see, that promise I made you was real.” On hearing that explanation, I felt a lot more reassured, and I handed him the form. He signed it, and then said, “Right, I’m off to see Ken.”

“What’s the rush, it’s Friday?”

“I know. But Ken said that if I can get it back to him, signed, before six, he’ll phone Bob and he’ll pick you up at half seven.”

“That all seems like a bit of a rush.”

“I don’t think he wants you to change your mind.”

So after sitting down to a meal that I was too nervous to eat, I had a bath, sorted out baby, and then got myself ready. Ken arrived on the dot at seven thirty, and by quarter to eight, Bob was showing us into his lounge; where two men were already sitting one at either end of a three seater sofa.

As Bob introduced them one at a time, they each rose and shook my hand. Their names were Sidney and Trevor, and as they sat themselves back down, Bob said, “Right now we all know each other, let’s not waste any time, you know what you’re here for, don’t you Sheila?”

“Err, yes, to do some modelling.”

“Ostensibly, yes. But more to the point, tonight is really a getting to know you session. To see who Sheila really is, and how cooperative you’re going to be. You have come here to be cooperative, haven’t you?”

“Well yes, within reason. I told you a couple of days ago, that I’d try posing in swimwear.”

“No no luv. Tonight isn’t about posing. Look at those two hunks sitting there.” As the couch was behind me, I had to turnaround to obey his instructions. And whilst I was looking from one to the other and back again, he said, “If I asked you to kiss one of them, which one would you choose?”

I turned back as I asked, “Is that what you’re going to ask me to do?”

“Well it’s a good way to break the ice. Start with simple kisses, and then try swapping tongues. You do know about French kissing?”

“Yes, I’ve done French kissing. But I thought I was here to model swimsuits?”

“No my dear, I’ve told you. You are here to be assessed. I’m sure that even you don’t know what your real potential is. So do you want Ken to take you home, or are you going to try to cooperate?”

“Okay, I’ll kiss Sidney.”

“Call him Sid, and before you sit yourself on his lap, can we loosen the clasp on your bra?”

“My bra! Why would you want to do that?”

“Oh come on, you’re not that naïve. Once you’re in his arms, and the pair of you start swapping tongues, he’ll start popping the buttons on the front of your blouse. And if he doesn’t then have to stop and lift you forwards to undo your bra, it’ll just keep things flowing. And besides, it’ll show me you’re serious about cooperating.”

“So it isn’t just kissing, he’s going to be fondling my breasts?”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I could go that far, providing you can promise that’s as far as this goes. I don’t want him to start anything below the waist.”

“I’ll repeat myself again, you’re here to be assessed. The idea is, that there are no pre-determined limits. We start simple, and slowly move on. Eventually we find out what your limits are. But you don’t get to state limits before we’ve even started. It’s called cooperation. Now I’ll ask you again, are you here to cooperate, or do you want to go home?”

“Okay, I’ll sit on his knee, and start kissing.” Then I turned to look at Ken, “I’m counting on you to make sure I’m not forced into anything.”

“Don’t worry Sheila, nobody will force you.”

Then Bob said, “Bra clasp.” I reluctantly turned so my back was within his reach. As I felt his fingers feeling their way into the back of the collar on my blouse, he then said, “You’ll have to release a few buttons, it’s too tight to get my hands in.”

He was of course right, the blouse and bra, both being from before I’d had my baby, which meant they were borderline too tight (my breasts had obviously increased in size as they’d developed to produce babies milk). But I’d still worn these, as I’d wanted to look feminine; and the only low cut blouses or half-cup bras I possessed, were pre-baby.

And so with the blouse being so snug, I had to pull it out from my skirt, undo all the buttons and even shrug it back over my shoulders. But then as I felt my breasts heave forwards as the clasp was released, I suddenly realised; Bob was lifting my blouse off.

“Please Bob, not my blouse.”

“But you said above the waist was acceptable. And anyway, even if I leave it on now, you’re not saying it won’t come off some time during the next ten minutes; are you?”

“No, maybe it might, but it’s just that it feels like you’re rushing me.”

“Tell you what, if you let me take both your blouse and bra off now, I’ll take Ken and Trev down the pub, and leave you and Sid on your own for half-an-hour. That way, there’ll be no one to rush you. Just you and Sid getting to know each other. Is that a deal?”

Now on hearing I’d only have one of them to deal with, this sounded like a much better option. So I cautiously said, “I guess so. But Sid has to promise, he won’t force me to go further than I’m comfortable with.”

“Come on then Sid, give her a promise.”

“I promise I won’t force you to go further than you’re comfortable with. Now come and sit yourself on my lap and we’ll talk about the first thing that pops up.”

It took a second, but as I took the meaning of his comment, I gave a nervous laugh.

By now, Bob had already removed my blouse and as it was a half-cup strapless bra, it fell away with it, as he said, “See, you’ve only known the lad ten minutes, and you’re already getting on like a house on fire. Come on you pair, let’s leave the lovebirds alone.” And then as he turned me to face himself, using hands on my shoulders, he held me at arm’s length, and asked, “Can I see them?”

It was obviously my breasts he wanted to see. And the reason he’d had to ask, was that as soon as I’d felt my bra leaving my breasts, I’d cupped them with my hands. So standing there with the three who were about to depart for the pub, all glaring at me, I slowly lowered my hands.

“Very nice. In fact more than nice, they’re gorgeous. Look I know you’ll say no, but I’ll ask anyway.”

Before he asked, I pleaded, “No, please don’t ask that.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“Please Bob, I really am trying to cooperate, but you’re frightening me.”

“Me? Frightening you? But I only want the briefest of little kisses.”

“But you’re not talking about kissing my lips. Are you?”

“No my dear, you know I’m not.”

“If I let you kiss one of them, it will just be you, not all three of you. And just a kiss on my breast, not on the nipple.”

“Go on then, put your arms up around my neck.”

I did as he’d asked, and as my arms went up, his went down under mine, and around my back, and as he lifted and pulled me towards himself, down went his face. And as his open mouth encircled the nipple on my right breast, he held me in a hold that there was no escape from. And it wasn’t just a brief suck, he’d latched himself on, and his tongue was circling its way around and around, interspersed with a really hard sucking.

I said his hold was so firm as to make escape impossible, but by now, the hold was necessary to prevent me from sinking to the floor. My legs had turned to jelly, and I couldn’t even muster any resistance (verbal or otherwise), and his mouth then moved to my other nipple.

And as this second onslaught was underway, he was moving his hold, and now carrying me over towards the couch, where he lay me back along it. It was only as I was lain down, that I realised Sid must have already got up. But if I’d thought Bob’s nipple suckling was a powerful stimulant, then I’d not reckoned with Sid’s French kisses. It silly really, I mean I’ve had lot of French kisses from several boys before I’d met my Gerry; and plenty more with Gerry. But these were different; maybe not the actual kisses themselves, but the illicit circumstances. Or maybe it was the combined effect of having someone simultaneously suckling on my breasts.

All I really know was that as they worked simultaneously, my arousal robbed me of any thoughts of resistance. So I lay there revelling in the pleasure as my arousal built and built ever higher. I can’t really say how long this was going on, before I became aware that my knickers were being removed. But I do know that I’d been so engrossed with the other attentions that by the time I was consciously aware, they’d been pulled from under my bottom, and were already on their way down my legs. But even being aware that my knickers (the last line of defence) were leaving my legs, it didn’t provoke any kind of defensive response. And neither did the hands on each ankle, when they lifted and spread my legs wide.

And I guess it must have been my lack of response, that prompted Ken to remark, “I think we can forget the need for the softly softly approach, she’s as good as thrown the towel in.”

But I guess Bob was still playing it safe, because as his mouth momentarily left-off sucking on my nipple, he said, “There’s no point in rushing it, we’ve got all night. Better to follow our usual routine and get a guaranteed result, than to dive straight into the hairy hole and spook the lass.”

“I guess you’re right. It’s just that the little bugger looks like it’s winking at me.”

Bob’s mouth left my nipple again, as he asked, “Is she pouting it already?”

“Pouting, she’s dam near blowing me kisses. And it’s so wet it’s glistening like an overripe split peach.”

“Trev, leave that leg, and get yourself around here and take over on these tits.”

Even knowing a different man was now being given the task of sucking on my nipples didn’t bring about any reaction.

And then as he joined Ken at the business end of proceedings, Bob said, “Y’know, I had a feeling she’d not take too much persuading, but the way she’s taken to it, I think we could have found ourselves a little trooper here.”

“D’you mean hire her out to old Baker?”

“We’ll discuss it later, she might still be registering. But I think you were right about not needing any more working up. And being as she’s your find, do you want to be first to test the water?”

“Better not, I know she looks ready, but if she fights it, she could stir the shit with her father-in-law. Let Sid have the first dip, and then once I know for sure that she’s keen, then I’ll give it a go.”

“Okay, you takeover for Sid, and Sid, come down this end and see what you think.” A few seconds later as Sid joined him in between my open legs, Bob asked, “What d’you think? Work her up some more, or just slip her a length?”

“Ken’s right, she does look ready, but like you said, better to be sure. I’ll see how she responds to a bit of licking.”

Respond! My God! It was almost like he’d attached that lightning conductor cable onto my pussy (you know, the one that you see in the Dracula films, which brings the monster to life). I’d never experienced anything like it. So as he licked, I writhed bucked and heaved; and within minutes, he was easing his cock up inside me. And once he was up, all of the others moved away, and let him have full access.

And even as I felt what must have been an enormous sized cock stretching the walls of my pussy as he heaved himself up inside me, there was still no sign of protest from me. And in fact, all my reactions from this point on were totally autonomous. I held his head to my breasts and I wrapped my legs up around his body, as I gasped out, “Oh my sweet Jesus! Oh Sid yes. Oh God more. Yes, more.” And even though I knew he was doing what I’d expressly said I didn’t want to happen under any circumstances, I actively participated.

So, as he thrust himself deep up into hitherto virgin depths in my pussy, the sensations in my body just built and built, taking me to a level of arousal that I never dreamt was even possible. Then as my first ever orgasm took over my being, quelling the vocalization of my arousal, he began to shoot his spunk deep up inside me.

And whilst my conscious self was drifting somewhere in a land of ecstatic exhilaration, he finished his climax, pulled out, and vacated his position in between my outstretched legs. So as my orgasm gradually subsided, and my awareness returned, I could again feel a slow deliberate thrusting; but it was different. And upon opening my eyes, I found myself gazing into Ken’s.

And as the reality of not just what had already taken place, but what Ken was now doing, hit me, I suddenly felt a panic coming over me. Ken obviously picked-up on this before I’d even had chance to react, saying to Bob, “She’s spooking. Should I pull out?”

“No, hang on, just give us some room. Sid, you take over kissing her mouth, Trev, you join me on her tits.”

And so in an instant, before I’d gathered my wits and even made a verbal protest, Ken was propping himself up on outstretched arms, giving the other three room to carry-out Bob’s instructions. And with Sid’s mouth locked onto mine, it was now impossible to make a verbal protest, even if I’d have wanted to; which I’m pretty sure was the way my reasoning was leaning. But there was something about Sid, which kind of rendered me helpless. And as the combined effects of their stimulation began to build, any would be thoughts of resistance just evaporated.

So within minutes, they were able to leave Ken to his own devices. I can’t say this shag was anything like Sid’s had been. But I’ll give Ken his due, once he and his cohorts had vanquished my emerging resistance, his diligent efforts were sufficient to keep them at bay until he, like Sid before him, was able to pump bolt after bolt of his spunk into my fanny.

But once he’d done that, there was definitely no fannying-about on either his part, nor Trevor’s. As Ken pumped his last fading spurt, and before his cock had even thought about going soft, he was pulling out, and Trevor was climbing into position. So then it all began again; this time with a vengeance!

It was very much like it had been with Sid, a massively thick cock, with an equally impressive length. My fanny stretched itself around it, as I actively heaved myself towards him, eager to gauge its length. And I wasn’t to be disappointed. So like the shag with Sid, I was not only actively shagging with him, I was again saying the most disgusting and degrading things; not that I had any control over either action. And then, not more than a couple of minutes into our shag, my second orgasm, took me away to another consciousness.

And although somewhere in another dimension, enjoying my fanny’s convulsive explosions, I could in some unexplainable way, still detect his cock thrusting relentlessly on. And so unlike when I’d regained my reasoning the last time, this time, even knowing I was being shagged, and there was nobody holding me, I didn’t even consider resistance. In fact, as my conscious self returned, I reached up, and taking hold of Trevor’s head, pulled him down and began to French kiss him.

And then after a few minutes of kissing, our lips parted, and I was back to vocalizing my appreciation of his magnificent cock; in the most disgusting of terms. And this time, I won’t attempt to pretend it was some kind of sub-conscious action; I vividly remember thinking, I’ve never before experienced pleasure approaching this level. Mind you, within a few minutes more, my arousal had once again reached the point where I had once again been overcome; and all actions were then autonomous.

And unless it was just that fate had decided I was going to have a good time come what may, then I can only assume that Trevor, like Sidney before him, knew how to time his climax to coincide with mine. Because I was once again treated to a simultaneous eruption. And apart from Bob and Ken taking this opportunity to take the most candid of photographs, I was left to writhe, buck and heave until my orgasm had fully run its course.

When I came down after this one, and they were still moving from position to position taking photos, it was initially like being in a kind of dream. But as I gradually recovered my full faculties, I initially felt the shame of being in such an exposed and disgusting situation; and I recoiled into a foetal position. But even adopting this defensive pose didn’t stop them taking turns to get in close, and photograph me from every possible angle.

And then after maybe two or three minutes more, it was as if reality kicked-in, and I realised they’d already seen and photographed everything I’d got to photograph; so why was I scrunched up in this ridiculously uncomfortable pose? And as I uncurled my body and sat myself up on the couch, Bob said, “Super. That’s it, put your hands on the couch either side of you, and stick those glorious tits out.” And so that’s what I did.

But I don’t think I’d obeyed instantly, and I think my first reaction was to give him a defiant look. But when his only reaction to my look, was to pop his face out from behind his camera and show me his beaming smile; I guess I just thought, what the hell.

So then for maybe the next fifteen minutes or so, Bob would instruct me, in where and how to pose, and him and Ken would take their photographs. And I’m not sure if you can imagine it, but in those fifteen minutes, they had me in just about every conceivable pose. Some of them taken on my own, displaying what Bob called my assets; and I do mean displaying. But sometimes I was with Sidney or Trevor, or even both of them. And there was even one, with me bent over, with Trevor’s cock-end in my mouth, and whilst Sidney stood up behind me, he slipped his cock up inside my fanny. And even that wasn’t good enough for Bob. As he then instructed Sidney to lift up my left leg, and hold it pointing towards the ceiling. Which then turned my hips, and gave him and Ken an unrestricted view of Sidney’s cock stretching my fanny.

And I let them. But if I’d thought that was the deepest of depths of degradation, then Bob knew better.

As he put his camera to one side, and he proceeded to undress, he said, “Right luv, what d’you know about felatio?”

I’d never even heard of it, so I asked, “What’s that?”

“Like what you were pretending to do to Trevor, cock sucking.”

And yes I had opened my lips, and reluctantly let Trevor put that big fat purple head of his cock in between them; but it had been very reluctantly and I’d not let him push it in too far. So hearing the words cock sucking, I gasped, “Oh no, I couldn’t do that.”

By now Bob was naked, apart from his socks, and his cock wasn’t showing the slightest sign of arousal, (unlike Sidney and Trevor, who both seemed to be in an almost constant state of erection). And he said, “Now come on, you’ve been a star performer so far. You can see my old fella needs a bit of encouragement. I’ll not ask you to suck me off all the way, and I’m not expecting you to let me cum in your mouth. Just stroke it a little, and then give it a little bit of sucking. Once it stiffens up, you can slip it up your fanny.”

I was totally amazed at his matter-of-fact attitude to the whole thing. Not only the sucking of his cock, but his assumption that I was automatically going to let him shag me. And as I was thinking this, he was getting himself onto the couch, and lying himself down on his back. So it wasn’t even that he was going to shag me, he expected me to shag him. I’d never even done that with my husband.

And then Ken took me by my elbow, and talking quietly directly into my ear, he said, “It’s Bob who controls the payments. And I know what your Gerry would say if he was here.”

I looked at him in amazement, “My Gerry would be totally devastated if he knew half of what I’ve done already. In fact, I think he’d want a divorce.”

“You obviously don’t know your Gerry too well. He was the one who asked me if I could get you work modelling, because he knew I was in a camera club. I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea of what kind of photographs we took, so I showed him some photos. Ones like we’ve just taken with you and our two lads here; I thought that would put him off. But all he asked was how much you’d get for that kind of photograph.”

“Gerry wouldn’t. He said...”

“I don’t care what he told you. All I know is he badgered me into getting you here, and he said he wanted us to do whatever we could to persuade you; short of actually hurting you that is.”

“That doesn’t sound like Gerry.”

“Well I’m certainly not going to attempt to force you. But not going the whole way, and getting paid the maximum amount of money, after you’ve done as much as you have already, don’t you think that would be foolish, to say the least?”

“Well I guess if Bob wants to do me, then I’ll lie-down and let him. But I couldn’t suck his thing.”

Ken led me across to where Bob lay, and guiding me down to a kneeling position alongside the couch, he knelt down with me. He then took my wrist, and guided my hand across to Bob’s cock, saying softly, “Just take a hold. That’s it; now bring your other hand across. That’s it, just gently.” And then after no more than a minute or so of me caressing Bob’s cock, I felt Ken’s hand resting gently on the back of my neck, as he continued, “Come on, just do it for Gerry. I promise this is what he’d want you to do.” So with very little pressure, I allowed him to guide my head down, and as Bob’s cock touched my lips, he said encouragingly, “Good girl, now open wide.” I did, and in it went. And by now it was stiffening up, and swelling to quite a thick diameter; a lot thicker than my Gerry’s.

And as much as I’d hated the thought of having a cock in my mouth, once it was there, it was as if it was meant to be. Ken was now kneeling behind me, and with arms wrapped around me, he was fondling my breasts. And between the sensations he was generating and the weird feelings in my tummy (I think as a result of the cock in my mouth); I was once again in full slut mode. And nothing that my rational self could tell me, could persuade me to stop.

And then Bob said, “That’s enough sucking, get her to mount me.”

Ken’s hands slipped out to each shoulder, and as he said, “Come on my dear, get yourself up onto the couch, and slip him up into your fanny.” He manoeuvred and guided me. And so with just guidance, and no real force, I allowed myself to be positioned above Bob, legs astride his torso, and my fanny above his now rampant cock. Then Ken said, “Okay, you know what you’ve got to do now.”

So I slipped a hand under my crotch, and taking hold of Bob’s cock, I guided it into my fanny. And then without any encouragement, I actively shagged him. And I have to say, that although his cock might have initially been reluctant to rise to the occasion, once I’d shown it some encouragement with my mouth, it definitely didn’t disappoint. And between my now over-excited libido, and bob’s prowess at sex, this shag developed into a shagging to rival the two previous ones with Trevor and Sidney. And like my shag with them, I was again blown away with another sensational orgasm.

When my senses recovered, both Trevor and Sidney had left, and Bob and Ken were sat talking, both fully dressed. As I was now the only one who was still naked, I again felt a wave of embarrassment, and I instinctively sat myself up, and covered my breasts with my hands. On seeing my reaction, Bob let out a muted half-laugh, and then said jovially, “It’s a little late from modesty my dear. Come on, be a good girl, and stop hiding your assets.” He was obviously right, and I slowly lowered my hands. But then he said, “And your knees, I’m sure you don’t normally sit there with them locked together. Give that little fanny a glimpse of daylight.”

Then Ken said, “It’s getting on for ten o’clock. It’ll not see any daylight until tomorrow.”

“No, you’re right. But all the same, she could let it see the light from the hundred watt bulb.”

“What you really mean is, let the light shine on it, so you can see it.”

“Yes you’re right. Come on then love, give me another little look before Ken takes you home.” And despite the fact they’d seen me from all angles, and both of them had shagged me, it still took all my willpower to spread my knees, knowing they would be able to see my fanny; but I did it. “D’you know what? You’re turning out to be a real treasure. And speaking of treasure, we need to discuss your payment for tonight. So tell me honestly, from what you were told before you came, how much do you think I should pay you?”

“Well Ken did say something about, if I let go of my inhibitions, I could get as much as ten pounds.”

“And you think you’ve done enough tonight to get paid that much?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve done everything you asked me, so I was hoping.”

“D’you know how much your husband gets paid for working a forty-two hour week?”

“He normally brings home about seventeen pounds.”

“So if I pay you ten pounds for less than two hours, d’you think that’s fair on your husband?”

“I’m not sure how you can compare the two.”

“No, you’re right. He’s a skilled machinist, working in dirty conditions. And you’re just a novice at this, and sometimes a reluctant one at that.” I felt really disappointed at hearing this, and I guess it showed. Because he quickly added, “No don’t look like that. I mean you’ve done really well for a beginner. And if you tell me you honestly think you’ve earned ten pounds, that is what I’ll pay you. Is that fair?”

I was obviously feeling very deflated, and questioning my own worth, as I sulkily said, “I guess if you look at it the way you just said, ten pounds does sound too much. But Ken did say my Gerry only persuaded me because this kind of modelling was so well paid.”

“So that’s what you want? Ten pounds?”

“I would like to please my Gerry.”

He opened the wallet he was holding, and counted out ten one pound notes, and then said, “Will you do one more thing for me?”

“I can’t just say yes unless I know what you’re going to ask me to do.”

“Okay, this is my deal. Take Ken old fella out of his pants, and suck him up. Like you did for me, not all the way, just enough to get him hard. Will you do that?”

“And then get on top of him and shag him?”

“No. Just suck him up. Then you’ll get your ten pounds and be on your way home.”

I looked at Ken, “Is that what you want me to do?”

“I’d love it.”

So I went over to where he sat, and kneeling in front of him, I took his cock out and began to suck. In under a minute, it was standing proud and ready for action. I lifted my mouth off, and holding his cock so Bob could see it, I asked, “Is that it?”

“Yes my dear, that’s the terms of the deal sorted. But don’t you feel a pang of guilt?”

“Guilt? For what? I’ve done what you asked me to do.”

“I know, and the money is yours, you’ve earned it. But Ken’s cock, don’t you think it looks lonely. I’ll bet it would really appreciate it if you’d back yourself onto his lap and wrap your warm wet fanny around it.” I couldn’t make up my mind what to do, and as I knelt there hesitating, he continued, “Don’t worry, the money is yours whether you fuck him or not.”

I got to my feet, turned around, and with my legs spread very wide, backed myself over Ken’s knees. And once my fanny was in line with his cock, I lowered myself down, using my hand to locate him. As his cock slipped up my well lubricated fanny, Ken’s hands gripped my waist. At that, Bob got to his feet, and with his hands under the top of each of my arms, he began to usher me up onto my feet, but with my head down in a bending stance. And from underneath me, Ken was rising from the chair, keeping his cock embedded in my fanny.

So now I’m in very much the same position as I’d been with Trevor and Sidney. And to complete the pose, Bob now offers his placid cock up to my mouth. But he doesn’t just force it onto my lips, it hovers there as he says, “You don’t have to do this, the money is on the table and you can go any time you want. This is just a goodwill gesture on your part.” I opened my mouth, and using my hands, I guided his cock into my mouth and began to suck. And as I did, he said to Ken, “Okay Ken, she wants it, start fucking.”

I hadn’t mentioned it, but from the moment Ken had been up on his feet behind me, he’d been slowly shafting away. But on hearing Bob’s instruction, he upped his pace; not just in speed, but also in force. In fact he was ramming his loins so vigorously into my bottom, that he was almost dislodging Bob’s cock from my mouth. But in no time, the cock began to stiffen, and the dislodging mutated into Bob kind of shagging my mouth. So with Ken thrusting away furiously in my fanny, and Bob doing the same in my mouth, I was once again ascending the stairway to heaven.

Or so I thought.

What I’d not even considered, was that the sole purpose of a cock thrusting in and out, was in order that it can draw up spunk from the ball-sack, and blast it out of the hole in that big purple head. And that was what Bob’s cock did! And even once I’d realised what was going on, and attempted to pull away, Bob was strong enough and determined enough to make sure I couldn’t. And so he deliberately unloaded spurt after spurt, filling my mouth to overflowing.

And not content with that, as he pulled his cock out, one of his hands covered my mouth, as his other rubbed my throat, coaxing me to swallow. And all the time, Ken was thrusting away in my fanny. I guess it took Ken at least two, or maybe up to even three minutes more, before he unloaded his ball-sack into my fanny. Once Ken pulled out, Bob then removed his hand from my mouth, and between them, they lowered me to the floor.

And I just lay there, crying. I say just, but it wasn’t just crying. I’d swallowed a good portion of Bob’s spunk, but there was still a lot in my mouth, and that was now dribbling its way from my lips. And at the other end, there was a similar situation. And I guess that’s not really surprising, considering I’d now had five load of spunk pumped up into my fanny. And as Gerry and I weren’t planning on having another child just yet, I’d taken the precaution of fitting my diaphragm; I guess that says a lot about what I’d thought would happen at this assessment!

I’m going to leave my story here, but there is more to tell. I mean at this point in time, I still didn’t know what my Gerry’s reaction would be to me bringing home ten pounds. And was I going to admit to all the shagging I’d done. And what did Bob and Ken mean when they mentioned hire her out to old Baker?

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Ma / Coercion / Fiction /