Planet of Pain (20 page)

Don't panic, she told herself. She tried to rationalise the situation, as she had with Mundell and the guys, but found it wasn't so easy this time. Then it had been men lining up to fuck her, and hetero sex was at least natural. This wasn't.

‘Your name's Jo, right?' Trin said. ‘Jo O'Donnell?'

‘Hell, Trin,' the tall one said, ‘you sure got the hots for this one. Waddya do, sneak into Records and look her up?'

‘She asked Radcliffe,' the redhead said. ‘She had to let him feel her snatch.'

The tall one hooted with laughter. ‘Ratty Radcliffe? Jesus, Trin!'

‘Hey, at least I got guys wanting to feel my snatch,' Trin snapped, ‘unlike some others I could mention.'

‘Radcliffe's not a guy,' the tall one jeered. ‘He's a fucking rat. That's why he's called Ratty, you dumb dyke.'

Trin turned away from her with a snort, took a deep breath to calm herself, and addressed Jo once more. ‘I'm right, though, ain't I? Jo O'Donnell. You're a pilot or something.'

Jo nodded.

‘Flier,' the redhead murmured. ‘Cool.'

‘Okay,' Trin said, ‘I'm Trin. They're Kym, and Fran.'

She indicated the redhead and the tall one, in that order. Jo glanced at them, but their eyes were on Trin. They seemed amused still. Trin didn't. She was watching Jo intently. ‘Ever had sex with a woman before?' she asked.

Jo shook her head, and Trin smiled. ‘A virgin. Shit, I reckon all my birthdays have come at once.'

The smile transformed her. She had looked decidedly plain before, with her pulled-back hair and a hangdog expression that turned the corners of her mouth down. Then she smiled and immediately she was attractive.

‘Okay, guys,' Fran said, ‘let's haul ass. I got me a real need to hear our girl-flier moan.'

She untied the cords that held the bone phallus in place, and took it off as the other two did the same. Fran collected them and put them away in a locker, and Jo realised they were only for show, intended, no doubt, to scare their victims witless. The relief she felt was short-lived, however, for Fran brought out their rubber equivalents; longer, thicker, double-ended and even more intimidating, and set them down on the table.

Jo gulped, and tried her ‘trick' again, attempting to see these three not as predators but as people, individuals with their own problems and their own fears. Kym was the jester of the pack. She was also the most articulate, with none of the ‘gottas' and ‘ain'ts' of the other two. Fran obviously saw herself as the ‘hard man' of the team, both physically and mentally. Trin was the most difficult of them to read. One minute she seemed cold and uncaring, the next she was being nice.

‘Time to get naked,' Fran said. ‘You too, flier.'

The three began to undress; and precisely because she didn't want to, Jo made herself watch. Naked, Trin proved to be narrow-waisted, with wide hips and full breasts that drooped somewhat. Her groin was shaved, and her slit showed pink beneath a slightly prominent belly. Fran displayed well-defined muscles, rather than the fat Jo had expected. She possessed numerous tattoos, the most spectacular of which was a snarling tiger in red and gold on her torso. Her breasts were small and she wore silver rings in her pierced nipples. Like Trin she had shaved her groin, and rings showed down there, too.

Kym was the surprise of the trio, for she had the sort of figure most women dream about. Most men too, come to that, but for a different reason. She was slender yet curvaceous, toned with pert breasts. She had a single small tattoo, a green butterfly, on her belly. Her groin was only partially shaved: her slit was naked but the hair on her mons was merely clipped short, and shaved into the shape of a heart.

The trio turned to Jo, and Fran scowled.

‘I thought I told you to strip, O'Dowell? You're heading for some serious discomfort here—'

‘Her name's O'Donnell,' Trin cut in sharply, ‘and ease up on her, okay? She's a little anxious, is all.'

‘I like to watch this part anyway,' Kym said. ‘Go ahead, sweetie… show us what you've got.'

It wasn't easy, with three pairs of eyes on her, but Jo shrugged the coveralls off her shoulders, pushed them down over her hips, and stepped out of them. Her slippers came off in the process, leaving just her pants. She took a deep breath and slipped those off too, then stood up straight for inspection.

‘Yeowch!' Kym exclaimed. ‘Could you just eat that up, or what?'

‘She can eat me anytime,' Fran muttered.

Trin said nothing. Instead she went to the mattress, took the top pillow off the pile then lay down on the remaining two. She shuffled back till the pillows were under her rump, then put the third pillow behind her head. After shuffling some more to get comfortable, she spread her legs and began stroking her slit. Her smile had been short-lived: she was back to the solemn look once more, watching Jo with that slightly scary intensity as she fondled herself.

Kym turned to Fran. ‘I'm getting a strong hint, here. You think Trin wants to go first, maybe?'

‘The kid's in love, no doubt about it,' Fran replied. ‘Guess you and me should tool-up.'

They each took one of the rubber monstrosities – Kym's pink, Fran's black – and began to put them on. Colour apart they were virtually identical. Each consisted of a pair of phalluses joined together at the base in a V-shape, with a pair of straps looped into a figure of eight at the bottom of the V.

The two women each had their own technique for ‘tooling-up', as Fran put it. She adopted an ungainly squat, inserted one of the phalluses into her vagina, then worked it in and out vigorously for several seconds before standing up straight to fasten the straps around her upper thighs. Kym put her left foot on a chair and teased her clitoris briefly with the tip of the phallus before inserting it very slowly.

‘Oh yes,' she crooned, as the thing slid inside her. ‘Make me have it, big boy.' She fastened the straps and rotated her hips first one way and then the other, the pink phallus protruding obscenely.

‘Come on then, Jo O'Donnell,' Trin said. ‘Time to lose your cherry.'

All eyes were now on Jo, and she started to panic again. She had to take a firm grip, reminding herself that this was routine for them; that's why they were so casual about it. They were accustomed to it even if she wasn't, so on legs that felt strangely remote from the rest of her body she moved to the mattress and knelt between Trin's parted thighs. And there she stalled, unable to move.

‘I don't know what to do,' she said plaintively. ‘I'm just telling you this so you'll know, okay? You can slap my breasts all you like, I still won't know.'

‘Christ!' Fran said. ‘It speaks!'

‘Who said anything about slapping breasts?' Kym asked with a frown.

‘Well, no one,' Jo said, ‘but you did it to Ruth, didn't you? She was black and blue; I saw her in the shower. She said it was a punishment for giving lousy head.'

‘Why don't I know about this?' Kym said, looking at the other two sharply. ‘I thought we'd agreed on joint decisions?'

‘You weren't around,' Fran said. ‘And the little bitch deserved it. She did give lousy head.'

‘Don't get mad, Kym,' Trin chipped in. ‘Fran and me agreed, so it was a majority decision anyway. Let's not spoil the mood here, okay? We got ourselves a virgin cutie on her hands and knees, for Christ's sake. We should be having the time of our lives, not squabbling.'

‘She's right,' Fran said. ‘I say we put our girl-flier to work and have us some fun.'

Kym nodded slowly. ‘Okay, you're right.'

‘And just so you know,' Fran said, turning on Jo as though the tiff was all her fault, ‘a tit-slap ain't the only punishment for girlies who don't work hard enough. Sometimes we smack ‘em here…' she spanked Jo's buttocks, ‘…and sometimes here.' She struck Jo's pudenda, who wasn't expecting it and gasped.

‘Fran just loves smacking snatches,' Trin confided solemnly.

‘And when they're really bad,' the tall woman went on, ‘we don't smack ‘em at all. Instead we subject ‘em to a marathon ass-fuck, which is ten times worse than any slapping, believe me. After six hours it feels like a red-hot poker up your poop. I been there, so I know.'

Jo believed it. Her own sessions with Taks and Snake had been bad enough, and they were relatively brief.

‘I think she's got the message, Fran,' Kym said. ‘You say you don't know what to do, sweetie?' Jo shook her head. ‘Okay,' Kym said, ‘let me explain. The first thing to realise is you don't have to worry about this end.' She patted Jo's bottom. ‘Fran and I will take good care of it, trust me; all you have to think about is your tongue. Girl-sex might be new to you but you've done it with a man before, right? There's no way someone as sexy as you is a virgin.'

‘With men, yes,' Jo admitted.

‘Right. And these men; did any of them go down on you?'

‘Well, yes,' Jo said, her cheeks a little warm. ‘All of them, in fact.'

There had only been three prior to her capture. A lot more since then, admittedly, but she didn't think they counted. Three by choice, the last being Mike. She remembered his tongue between her legs, lively as an eel, and felt her blush deepening.

‘Of course they did,' Kym said with a smile. ‘And who can blame them? So therefore you know what feels good… when someone's tongue's busy between your legs, I mean.'

‘I suppose so.'

Kym grinned. ‘That's it, then. Whatever felt good to you, that's what we want you to do to us, okay?'

Jo nodded reluctantly, though she didn't think it was as simple as Kym made it sound.

‘By the way, hands and knees is no good,' the redhead went on. ‘You need your forearms flat on the floor so your shoulders are low down. That way you can tongue her without putting your back out. A bad back is sometimes called dyke's disease. I bet you didn't know that, did you?'

Jo didn't, in fact. She was learning a lot here, no doubt about it. The only problem being it was stuff she would rather not know.

‘Also,' Kym added, ‘with your elbows on the floor your rear end is nicely elevated, which means we can service you properly. Fran will be fucking you in the ass; she always does. She's got no imagination, that girl. As for me, well, I haven't decided yet. I guess I'll see how the mood takes me. Can you remember all that?'

‘I'll try,' Jo said.

‘You'd better,' Fran said. ‘Now quit yakkin' and get to it so we can see how you perform.'

 

Jo didn't think she performed very well, at least not at the start. She was trying to get used to the taste, which wasn't as bad as she'd feared, and trying to get used to the feel of Trin's vulva on the tongue. The phallus in her rectum wasn't helping. It was long and hard, and Fran was working it deep inside her. Her sphincter had tightened against the intruder, which made it hurt all the more.

But Jo persevered, remembering Fran's threat. The idea of a spanked bottom didn't worry her unduly, but she was far less certain about the other two targets. Bearing in mind how Ruth's breasts had looked, Jo had no wish to experience a tit-slap. As for having her pudenda spanked, she thought that might be the worst of all.

And so she did her best to please Trin, who let out a long, low moan of pleasure, suggesting she was more than happy with her efforts. Encouraged, Jo drew her face back and fingered her too, but kept it brief as she was supposed to be licking not feeling. The last thing she wanted was to get over imaginative and antagonise them, and so she was soon using her tongue again, spreading Trin's vulva with her fingers to gain better access, focussing on her clitoris.

Kym, who'd been watching the proceedings in silence, joined in. She knelt on the mattress next to Jo and rubbed first her breasts, then her vagina. Her finger sought out Jo's clitoris, which she stroked in a confident and accomplished fashion. ‘Hey, guess what,' she said. ‘I think our pretty flier likes this.'

‘A little early for rewards, ain't it?' Fran said sourly.

‘No it's not,' Kym said. ‘She's trying really hard, aren't you, sweetie?' But she was wrong; not about trying hard, which Jo was, but about enjoying any of it, and if they'd said stay or go, your choice, she'd have gone in a flash.

But it wasn't all bad news. She knew she could handle it now and was no longer afraid; and the absence of fear was bliss. Even when Trin's movements and utterances made it plain her climax was close; and during her shuddering orgasm; and afterwards, when she sat up and kissed Jo on the lips; through all of that Jo was calm and composed, and pretty much in control of herself.

And when it was over, and Trin lay back again, sated and languid, Jo continued to tongue her idly. Not for long, though, because others were waiting their turn. Fran withdrew from her rectum then removed her phallic encumbrance and lay down in Trin's place, and as Jo was trying to get used to the feel of labial rings under her tongue, Kym knelt behind her and slid the pink phallus into her vagina. Trin sat cross-legged on the floor and watched for a while, only stirring when Kym reached beneath Jo's belly and began fingering her again. ‘Let me do that,' Trin said, and she did, expertly and with zeal.