Guinevere's Cafe
Chapter 1

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/ft, NonConsensual, Lolita, Reluctant, Coercion, Blackmail, Heterosexual, MaleDom, Humiliation, Group Sex, White Female, Hispanic Male, Oral Sex, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Size,

Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Guinevere and her Daughter have to pay up for their freedom by submitting to whoever is brought to their Cafe, only they are the ones who are reluctantly doing all the eating.


If you have not read the previous posting of Guinevere's Travels you may want to start there. This is a continuation of the previous story. Gwen was married to Joe. She left him after testifying against him in Federal Court about his taxes. Under the witness protection program, she fled to Mijas, Spain. It is a very small city at the foothills of the mountains. She and her daughter started a café. Some criminals discovered her and are abusing her. In return for her sexual favors, they are offering their silence.


Guinevere is devastated that she was not able to protect her daughter better. She had desperately offered to submit to their sexual demands in return for their silence and promise to avoid contact with her daughter, Stephanie. That had not worked out. Gino, Enzo and Amo had had their way with both of them. It did not appear to be over.

The next day, Stephanie and Gwen had opened their Café, hoping the bastards had left the town and they could continue with their lives. The men had found their stash of savings, fake ID's, credit cards, driver's licenses and taken everything. They had no way of running and getting across any borders.

Stephanie came out early in the morning to wait on the tourists; serving coffee, muffins, pastries and their greatest ingredient they were known for; her innocent enthusiasm. The old men were intrigued with the effervescent fourteen-year-old. Her enchanting innocence was captivating. They were all in love with her.

Today, though, things seemed to be different. She and her mother seemed distant; edgy; very reserved; guarded. They smiled, but the sparkle in their eyes was not there. Soon, the big black Mercedes parked at the bottom of the hill. Slowly, Stephanie saw the black Armani suits come into view. Like three mounted figures out of Clint Eastwood spaghetti western, they appeared; small in the distant, and growing over the mirrored mirage in the dust. The ominous silhouettes came into focus.

The three men sat down at the farthest picnic table. Stephanie waited on everybody else first. When the breakfast crowd thinned, she walked warily over to see what they wanted. Surely they would not dare pull what they did the previous evening; it was broad daylight and other people would be coming by.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" Stephanie spoke woodenly; without a smile; without enthusiasm and her lower lip trembling. Nothing could wipe out her memory of being naked; bound; on her knees in front of each of them being sprayed in her mouth, eyes and face with that hot, slimy blast of semen. Nothing could ever blot out the memory of that taste; that odor.

"Good morning, Miss Stephanie. You look absolutely spectacular. Nobody would be able to look at you and know you just sucked my cock a few hours ago. Are you and your mom ready for more?"

Stephanie was devastated. The words hit her like an anvil. The association brought out in words was more than she could bear. She was a cocksucker. This was the worst term a young girl could be called in her circles.

"What do you want?" she asked nervously.

Gwen saw them coming from her location in the front door. She could tell from her daughter's slumping shoulders that she was under stress. Gwen walked over quickly to protect her daughter from whatever was about to happen.

"What's going on here? Haven't you men done enough to us? I thought you men were going to leave. I thought we had a deal. I did what you wanted. We both gave you what you asked for. Please leave. I'm begging you to please leave us alone. Gwen tried to hide her trembling, but couldn't. Gino sensed her fear.

"My dear Miss Guinevere, we had such a good time last night, there's no way we could leave two women as beautiful as the two of you. By being silent and taking all of your money, we are still a long way short of collecting the reward on the two of you. We figure you still owe us." Gwen was silent. What more could she do?

We are going to change the theme of your Café a little bit. You can be open Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and run this place as you want. The money will all be yours. You will post your hours on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday as "Closed for Private Party." You will still operate the Café, but we will furnish the customers. We can add a few more tables on the roof. It is a concrete slab with high enough parapets, that they will offer some privacy because you are the highest house. Only a few curious kids playing in the hills above will notice.

We will tell you what to wear. It probably won't be the same every evening. The men will be our friends from Marbella, so you will still have a certain amount of anonymity here in town. We have some space in Marbella too. We may want to have you work in Marbella. The tourists and businessmen are much wealthier there. Stephanie will be serving the food. Guinevere, you will be serving the food and also be the hostess. You will sit and talk to the men while they eat. You will both be pleasant and accommodating. If you don't we have recorded your performance last night and will pass everything on to your husband's business associates back home. It can be done in seconds through the internet.

There was no discussion. There was no compromise. That was it. The men left a big tip for the tea they had, stood and left.

Guinevere sobbed. Stephanie cradled her mother's head against her to comfort her. It was harder on Guinevere because she felt responsible for the protection of her fourteen-year-old daughter. Stephanie had no options other than being the innocent pawn being savaged.

Tuesday, the men returned; parking covertly at the bottom of the hill. Actually, they were very close. They had parked in front of the residence just below Guinevere's. There were some steps from there right up the hill to her house. Just to be more secretive, they took the long way back to the town entrance and then up the hill so nobody would notice a continuous flow of men up to Guinevere's Café.

The three men came up and sat at the picnic table closest to the hose. The old man in the Volkswagen truck had delivered three more picnic tables and umbrellas that afternoon. They had placed them on the roof.

The men gave each of the women a Bluetooth device to hook on their ears. They would be given instructions through the evening, but were to appear to be on their own initiative. They were given a series of instructions. As the evening came, and the sun started to set, a group of three more men in Pierre Cardin suits could be seen arriving in a limousine at the town entrance. They made a call on their cell phone. They were directed by Gino to the house. When they got there, they knocked on the door. Stephanie opened the door to greet them. She was naked. She was wearing her high-heeled suede boots that zipped up the sides and stopped just below her knees. She had on dark silk stockings that went to her crotch. Her vulva had been shaved bald.

"Good evening gentlemen. We have been expecting you. I will escort you to the patio where you will be able to see the sunset. Have any of you been to Mijas before?" Stephanie spoke with a forced smile. It was not in her, but she knew her mother's welfare probably depended on it. She was humiliated to greet the clothed strangers while naked. Her double strand of pearls swayed as she walked with her arm hooked into the leaders. Stephanie's medium melon sized breasts bobbled in time with her clip clop over the honed tile pavers as she led them through the house and up the stairs to the rooftop patio. She seated them. "What would you gentlemen like to drink to start the evening with?" Her smile seemed genuine. The men could see she was trying. That was good enough they thought.

"My name is Aldo. My name is Carlo. My name is Eduardo." The three men waved in a weak greeting. "I think we would just like to have three cans of American Beer if you have it." Carlo said. Stephanie turned and went down the stairs.

The men sat there admiring the setting sun as they sat there. It wasn't dark yet. They heard the clip, clip, clip of another set of high heels coming up the stairs. This wasn't the same as Stephanie's. These were a little heavier. They could sense the unsteadiness. They could sense the hesitation. They could sense the apprehension.

The figure came into view slowly as it came up the stairs. First they saw the color of the reddish brown hair. Then they saw the wire rimmed glasses. Then they saw the start of the fishtail braid that hung down her left side. Then they saw her naked breasts with the alabaster white orbs that looked just like Stephanie. They have to be sisters, they thought. Those long-stemmed pink nipples were unique. Nowhere had they ever seen nipples so long or so pink out of such small areoles.

Her nipples whipped up and down and side to side in opposition to the flexing and relaxing of the cheeks of her butt. Her double strand of pearls whipped slightly from side to side. Guinevere tried desperately to mask her terror with a forced soft smile. Her boots and black silk stockings made her and her daughter look like mirror images. She tried desperately to ignore the fact that she was naked. Her vulva had been completely shaved. The cool evening breeze made it impossible for her to completely blot out her nakedness.

"Good evening gentlemen. My name is Guinevere. This is my daughter's and my Café. We want you to feel welcome here this evening. Are you enjoying the sunset?" Guinevere stood behind the one open chair as she spoke. After they assured her they were enjoying the view, she turned according to the voice in her ear that came from Gino, sitting in the distant corner out of sight. She took a torch and lit the patio lights. She came back and lit the candles on their table.

By then, Stephanie was back with the drinks; three cans of beer. She placed them in front of the men and stood back, waiting for more instructions. "Where's your beer?" You ladies don't think we are going to drink alone do you?"

Stephanie looked at her mother, stunned. Gwen bowed her head in defeat and nodded slightly. Stephanie disappeared and returned with two beers. She placed them on the table. The two women were standing. There were four seats and three of them were taken.

Carlo handed one beer to Stephanie and put his arm around her waist. He guided her to sit on his lap. He spread his legs so that Stephanie was sitting on his right thigh, left leg draped over his left leg, and her right leg on the ground. Carlo took her left arm and swung it around his neck. This brought her long pink nipples up next to his lips. He nestled his left hand between her legs. Stephanie self consciously tried to cover the invading fingers with the can in her right hand.

Her lip quivered in humiliation as she felt the first finger searching for the moist opening. She had no alternative but to spread her legs to receive the marauding invasion. She tried not to wince as the second one tried to enter. She pressed down with her hand against his to decrease her discomfort.

To Guinevere, it looked like her daughter was a willing participant. She was devastated for her daughter. "How did I get her into this?" she anguished to herself.

Guinevere eyed Eduardo with fear and apprehension. He seemed to be the silent leader. He seemed to be about fifty. He seemed to be about six feet six inches tall. He had medium length dark hair that was starting to grey. He had the beginning of a beard; more like a goatee and mustache. His neck was clean shaven. He was wearing lizard skin boots under his Pierre Cardin suit. He seemed to have a very athletic build. His hands were huge. Gwen gagged, when she suddenly made the association. Could it be true?

"My dear Miss Guinevere, you are so beautiful. I cannot stand to do anything that would mar your unique beauty. I am in love with your beautiful long legs and your beautiful breasts. I would love to get to know you better. I do not want to waste our time together by eating. I am not hungry tonight. Why don't you go get a cushion off of one of the other chairs and bring it over? I don't want you to scuff up your knees. You are too beautiful for that. Besides, you will be running your café tomorrow, and people would wonder why you have scabs on your knees."

Guinevere was crushed. She almost gagged at his comments. It was all too clear what he intended to do with her this evening. Gwen stood, humiliated and made her way to the next table, picked up a small seat cushion and held it in front of her to conceal her nudity.

Her temples throbbed as she stopped in front of him and dropped the cushion between his legs. Gwen looked over at her daughter. Their eyes met. There was acknowledgement between their glances that they both knew what she was about to do. Stephanie turned her head and buried it in Carlo's tussled hair thinking subconsciously that she would be able to stop it by not looking.

Guinevere looked at Aldo, then back over at Eduardo. Resigned at what she had to do, she placed her right forearm on his left thigh. She had her forehead on her right hand. She took several deep breaths to try to calm herself. "For the sake of my daughter, I need to get through this." She tried to tell herself. She tried to blot out the image of her daughter watching in horrified curiosity. She tried to blot out the image of the two men watching in stupefied silence. She tried to blot out the image of what she had done the night before. She tried to believe that they were alone. She tried to believe that this man cared for her.

Guinevere rose up on her knees. She stood. She removed the man's shirt, folded it and placed it on the table. She bent back down and removed his shoes and socks. She folded the socks and stuck them in his boots. She placed the boots under his chair. Gwen tried to meet his gaze with as tender expression as she could. She tried her best to force a comforting smile. The tears forming in the corners of her eyes gave her away. That was O.K. He didn't care. She was trying.

Gwen leaned forward and undid the burnt umber leather belt from the polished pewter buckle. She separated the large button underneath from the eyelet. Guinevere looked down at the growing bulge in his pants, then back up at him as she lowered the zipper.

Guinevere's eyes met Eduardo's. She was searching for compassion. She was searching for sympathy. She tried to blot out the fact that she was basically ordered to participate in this humiliating sodomization of her mouth. She tried to blot out the foul taste from the night before. This would be different. He would not do that to her. He would pull out before it was over. He loved her didn't he say? Guinevere was swimming in fantasy. That was the only way she could get through it as he lifted himself up and she slid his slacks and briefs down past his knees.

He was partially erect. He looked like a stud horse that had just been led over to a brood mare and had just realized what was about to happen. The sleeping giant started to wake. It started to move. The opening at the end seemed to yawn as it searched for something to bury itself into. It turned from side to side as it uncoiled in little jerky spurts. It seemed to be searching; looking for those ... those ... those lips. Now he saw them and turned towards her. A small drop of excitement oozed out of the end.

Guinevere took a gamble. She stood in an effort to procrastinate. She walked across the patio and returned with a Tupperware bowl and a couple of dishtowels. Guinevere placed the bowl under his chair and rinsed one of the towels in the hot water.

Like Mary Magdalene washing Christ's feet she began to ceremoniously began to wash him. She reached up with her left hand and extended her forefinger and thumb, trying to encircle his shaft at the base. "This is going to hurt." She thought as she was unable to get completely around him. Guinevere looked up at him to meet his gaze as she wrapped the hot rag around the throbbing creature. The hot rag only increased the length of him. Slowly, Gwen washed him in a comforting soothing way that seemed to make it continue to grow.

Gwen reminded herself she had to give a convincing performance or the videos would be sent to her husband. Guinevere raised the shaft up against his abdomen and washed the bottom of the shaft. The huge veins on each side of his lower canal throbbed to echo his heartbeat.

"We're waiting." Eduardo replied softly, but impatiently. Guinevere leaned back one last time, hoping there was some way out she had not seen yet. With her right arm draped over his left thigh, she raised both hands to take off her wire rimmed glasses. This seemed to be her last act of resignation. This was her final inward sign of capitulation. She folded the glasses and put them up on the table.

Her pearl necklace rattled slightly as Guinevere leaned in and rubbed the left side of her cheek along the length of it, from her ear to the beginning of her lips. She looked up at him as she brought it down, opened her lips and kissed the tip softly. She was fourteen. She was on a blanket spread out under the giant oak tree next to the picnic basket the eighteen-year-old love of her life had prepared for them. She was doing it for the first time.

Who was she kidding? This was as bad as when her husband had taken her to the theatre, sat her in the middle of some strange men, unbuttoned her dress and made her stroke the men until they climaxed all over her.

The fantasy was broken with the first stream of fluid out of this monster erection. Her cheeks and throat had been stretched to their ultimate limit. When the first stream hit her gullet, she had been thrashing her head from side to side like a bass trying to throw a hook as it came out of the water. She was trying to keep this black mamba from being forced down her throat. The only thing that kept her sanity was the non-existent dream world she had put her mind into. It was the only way she could escape the horror; the humiliation, the embarrassment she was enduring.

She was out now, but that didn't stop the gushing of vile ectoplasm from filling her hair, eyes, nose, and mouth. It didn't stop the matter from dripping from her chin onto her spectacular breasts. Guinevere turned her head to her right and used her left hand to break the strands of spittle and semen.

It took Eduardo a while for his body to calm down; from shuddering; from groaning. Stephanie watched in horror as her humiliated mother fought the urge to gag on the semen in her mouth. Her mother was humiliated and embarrassed, no doubt. But, as she watched in silent fascination, she wondered who was actually in power at this point?

Eduardo would not let go of her. His hands shifted from his death grip with the hair on the back of her head, to the sides of her face. He did not care that she had semen all over her face. He caressed her cheeks fondly, reverently. Even with his head rolled back, he brushed the wisps of hair out of her face. He grabbed her hands and held her until he recovered.

Guinevere lay there with her face buried in his crotch, sobbing silently in her humiliation. When Eduardo had gained his composure, he started to dress. Guinevere was still sobbing as she took one of the wet towels and tried to clean herself off.

Eduardo smiled in satisfaction. "Next." He said.

Guinevere stood, not sure what was happening. Aldo, who had been relegated to observer to the other two, grabbed the Tupperware bowl as he reached down for the cushion. He placed the hand with the cushion around Guinevere's waist and guided her over to his chair. He dropped the cushion to the cobblestone in front of his chair. He held out his hand to help Guinevere down to her knees. He disappeared for a moment and returned with another cushion. He put the Tupperware bowl down and returned with a very reluctant Stephanie.

"We saw the video from last night. Do we need to tie you up again, or can you do this without the tether?"

Stephanie's head dropped to her chin. Her shoulders shuddered as she sobbed silently. She couldn't find the words...

"I'm begging you not to tie me ... p ... p ... Please" she sobbed.

And so the night went. The partners changed until all had their turns. The men were rich, so even with the two women only getting half of the money, they made thousands. The money didn't seem to matter as the humiliation never ended. No matter how often they did it, it never got any easier.

Some nights they were driven into Marbella. Sometimes it would be one wealthy rich man. Sometimes it would be a group. Everything got filmed. They wanted good blackmail material in case they needed it. Who were they kidding? There was no way these men would give these women up for any amount of money in the world.

Guinevere knew she could never get away and got tired of their threats. Finally one night after she seemed reluctant to multiple partners, she said: "here give me the computer. I'll send it myself."

That night, Joe was watching television in the commons area with the other inmates when a crackling came across the screen. When the screen cleared, there was a Chrystal clear picture of Guinevere. She had been rubbed down with skin lotion so her Mediterranean tan glimmered in the soft fading Spanish sunset. She kneeled down in front of this gargantuan savage. She was washing this monstrous throbbing penis with a washcloth. She leaned back removed her wireframe glasses and put them on the table beside her. She leaned forward and kissed the end of the huge penis softly before she opened her mouth and slid her lips over it...

The inmates turned to Joe. "Hey, man, doesn't that woman look like the picture you carry around of your wife?" This time it didn't seem to "get it up" for him.

I can continue this if anybody is interested.

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