Beth’s leaving plummeted me back into the depths of teenage depression, leading me down a long, dark tunnel at which end no light could be seen. Not only had I lost the girl who had become my best friend, but I’d also lost my love. Together, we had shared the most special thing; we’d shared the loss of our virginity. No joy was there for me in the dawning of the new millennium, no sparkle in those celebratory fireworks that punctuated the end of 1999.
Some solace was to be found in the gentle kindness of my twin-sister, Jenny. She’d make every effort to comfort and console me, and would give me reassuring hugs that made life slightly more bearable. Even my older, half-sister, Katie, who stayed with us over that Christmas and New Year period, was being unusually kind. In the end, these were the only positive things to come out of Beth’s departure.
As the short winter days lengthened, things got a little better, until by March I was almost back to my usual self. Spring’s green shoots and Jenny’s patience had definitely helped. It was at about this time, as I was preparing for my end of school exams, that a very curious and disturbing event occurred.
In the last week of March, pupils in their final year of school were expected to undertake a week of work experience with a local company. I’d asked to be placed with a firm of solicitors, as I was thinking of entering the legal profession, but due to a mix-up in the paperwork I’d been assigned to do manual work at a dairy, and despite my attempts to get out of it, on a Monday morning I found myself standing in a farm manager’s office and listening to what my duties would include. To my initial relief, I was told that I’d be placed in the bottling department, which meant light work and not having to deal with livestock.
All in all it seemed that things would be okay, I thought to myself, as I was led across the farmyard to a small, isolated building, and there introduced to the three women who would be my colleagues. As you can probably imagine, I was rather disappointed to be placed with a group of older women and was little looking forward to what I expected would be a rather dull experience.
Karen, the department’s supervisor was bubbly and seemed friendly enough. She was about 5ft 11”, of medium build, and had shoulder length, dark brown hair that looked, if I’m honest, slightly greasy. At the time, I thought she was quite old, but now when I think back I’d say she was in her mid to late thirties. Alongside Karen stood Megan, who I’d guess was the youngest of the three, at about twenty-five. Like Karen, she was tall, but rather more thin and gaunt looking. Her hair was bleached blonde, short and spiked, like some out-of-date punk rocker. And, lastly, standing behind the other two, there was Emma, who seemed the quietest and most refined of the group. She was about my height, at around 5ft 6”, with natural straw-coloured hair and a friendly smile. Emma could well have been older than the early thirties that she looked.
What didn’t cross my mind about any of these three women, as I looked them up and down, was a single sexual thought; I didn’t consider their breasts, the clothes they were wearing, or what they might look like naked. Not one of them was attractive enough for that.
By about mid morning on that first day I’d settled in to the laborious task of filling milk bottles, and listening to the casual jabber and occasional raucous cackles of my three co-workers.
“Do you smoke, then?” Megan asked, getting up from her seat and heading for the door.
“No, hmmm, I don’t. It’s not for me,” I replied hastily.
“No of course he doesn’t, Megan. He’s a good, clean boy, can’t you see?” Karen chipped in.
All three of them found this highly amusing and were in fits of giggles, especially when they saw how uncomfortable their remarks made me.
“We’re only teasing you, don’t get upset,” Karen continued, with mock concern.
“But he does look like a nice boy. I bet he’s never had a stiff drink, or even a stiff cock,” added Megan, sending all three into another bout of laughter. This was the start of a torment that would continue throughout my time there.
By the end of the day, Karen, Megan and even Emma were all urging me to show them my penis so that they could judge if I was a real man or not. They kept making out that it was all a big joke, but I could tell that the situation was becoming more serious, as their gibes continued.
That evening I pondered my predicament. It should go without saying that I was nervous of going back to the dairy the next day, but part of me was curious to see just how far these three witches would take things. What was the worst they could do? Their worst, as I’d discover, was beyond my innocent imagination. Tuesday morning came round all too quickly.
“What time do you call this, then? Don’t you know that you should be here to start work at eight?” Karen said in a stern voice. “I’ll have to think about your punishment.”
I suppose I must have thought Karen was joking with me, because I was only about five minutes late, but then I started to worry that she meant what she said. My fears became heightened later that morning, when I saw her with Megan huddling in a corner and whispering something about an initiation ceremony. Whatever was being said, by the sound of their laughs, both women found it highly amusing.
“Right, if you are man enough to work here with us, then you have to prove it by going though an initiation ceremony. And because you were late this morning it’s going to be a special one,” Karen cackled at me. “What you must do is take this empty milk bottle into the storeroom and masturbate into it. Then show us what you've done. If you produce enough semen, then you pass the test.”
With that, Karen and Megan grabbed hold of my arms and marched me towards a door at the back of the room. I remember trying to resist and calling out, but my cries went unheard. Nobody was going to come to this isolated building, on a lonely farm. Nobody was going to save me from this. As I stumbled through the storeroom door, Karen thrust a milk bottle into my unwilling hand with the words, “Let us know when you’re done and we’ll let you out.”
Next thing I heard was a thud, as the heavy metal storeroom door slammed before my widening eyes. Shocked, I pulled at the handle, but the distinctive sound of a padlock snapping shut outside told me that I was trapped.
A stark light fell from the single, un-shaded bulb hanging above my head. It bathed the centre of the room in a chill light that picked-out a solitary table, like a stage on which some Shakespearian play would be acted out. Around the edges of the room, where only gloom extended, I could discern the shapes of boxes and tins and a hundred other things on wooden shelves.
From beyond the door the cackles had now faded, leaving nothing but the sound of my beating heart and the low hum of a refrigerator lurking somewhere in the corner. Not only was this a storeroom, but it was also where my three tormentors made coffee and took lunch. And now it was also my prison, too.
Sitting on one of the three plastic chairs that were strewn around the room, I rested my elbows on the table and placed my head in my hands, while looking at the tiny reflections of light bouncing off the milk bottle in front of me. Minutes rolled by as my mind roamed and wandered the possibilities. It was no good, there was no answer; I was caught and at the mercy of my captors.
It was about then that I started to draw comparisons with what had happened to me about eight months earlier, when my cousin Sara and her friends had taken advantage of me. I had been an unwilling participant at the start of that incident, and yet it had ended in my first full ejaculation. Just the thought of that sent pulses of electricity shooting to my penis, making it grow to an uncomfortable bulge in my jeans. It was then that I knew what I must do.
Standing up, with milk bottle in hand, I unbuckled my belt, popped the button on my jeans and let my zip rumble downward. Second thoughts crossed my mind, but I bit my lower lip, shook my head, and pushed my jeans and boxers down around my ankles in one swift movement, to let my penis bounce and bob before me.
All thought had left me by the time I took a firm grip on my throbbing member and squeezed it gently. Pulling my foreskin forward to cover my now glistening sex-head, I gulped in anticipation, before positioning my bare bottom on the table behind me. Leaning back a little, with my left hand I brought the rim of the bottle up to the tip of my quivering rod, until the cold of the glass became apparent. Slowly and very carefully, I forced the tip inside, so that the tight rim of the bottle sat just behind the ridge at the back of my sex-head. Then, with the bottle supported in my left hand, I began a frantic back and forth shuffle with my right, as I gasped for air and became oblivious to all around me.
Suddenly, the storeroom door flew open and was followed by Karen, Megan and Emma, who had been watching my every movement through the keyhole. Pouncing on me, Megan grabbed my left arm and Emma my right, before lifting and pushing me back, so that I was now sitting on the table, legs dangling, with my arms outstretched behind and supporting me. In shock, I let go of the bottle, leaving my penis to hold it, and sway under the weight.
“Hold him, while I get this,” Karen said, hardly managing to contain her laughter.
She clasped the bottle in her right hand and snaked the warm, but slightly rough fingers of her left around my shaft, while staring directly into my fearful eyes.
“Wank him off, Karen. I wanna see him cum for us,” Megan interjected.
With her grip tightening, Karen began firm stokes that matched the rhythm of my breathing, but the more she pulled the more uncomfortable I became, as my penis swelled to its full size in the tight neck of the bottle. Pain, fear and arousal are not such a good combination, not for me at least, but my erection continued to expand.
“I don’t think he’s going to cum for us, girls,” Karen said quizzically. “But I’ve got a trick that might help.”
Karen’s ominous words tailed off, as she gestured to Megan to take hold of the bottle. Maybe I would have struggled if I’d known just what Karen’s ‘trick’ was to be, but then again maybe I wouldn’t have.
Disappearing into the shadows at the edge of the room, Karen bent forward and reached out. Thoughts raced through my mind as I watched her pull open the refrigerator door and remove something. Soon, she was standing before me again, but this time with a tub of butter in her hand, from which she peeled the lid and slowly dipped a finger inside. I still had no idea of what was to come, so I must have looked puzzled as Karen approached me with a huge grin on her face. With Megan holding the milk bottle firm with one hand and my arm tight with the other, Karen slid her hand down below my scrotum and cupped my testes, before parting my buttocks with her greased forefinger and locating my anus. My mouth opened as if to utter something, but before any words came, Karen prised me open and forced her finger inside. Clenching to try and hold her back, I gave out a cry which just seemed to spur her on, until with my anus stretched to the point where I thought it would rip, I felt her finger slide fully in and make a wriggling movement. This sent me into a rocking convulsion, that within seconds brought me to the verge of a climax. And then came that familiar feeling, as I began to jerk violently, impaled on Karen’s finger. Her free hand again took hold of the bottle, which, with slow, deliberate movement she forced down on my penis, pulling my foreskin taut in the process. No longer could I hold back; I watched as squirt after squirt of my semen splattered the inside of the bottle and then trickled back down over the bulbous end of my shaft.
“Look girls, he’s cum for us,” Karen squealed, as she held the bottle aloft to show Megan and Emma. “You’ve done pretty well, but that’s not the end of it. If you don’t want us to show this to the farm manager, and tell him that we caught you masturbating into the bottles, then for the rest of the week you are going to be our sex-slave.”
Nothing much else was said for the remainder of that Tuesday, and I was allowed to go about my work without further interference. But as the end of the day approached, Megan kept winking at me, until finally she piped up, “You are mine tomorrow, and I know exactly what I’m going to do with you.”
Okay, now here’s the thing, anyone with even a modicum of common sense would have rushed out of there that night and never dare return. But to a mind of sixteen, the situation seemed impossible. If I refused to return and do what I was told, I was certain they would follow through on their threat. They would tell the farm manager, and he’d report it to the school. Who would believe my version of what happened? Not only that, but I have to admit that I was excited by thoughts of what would come next.
Rain ran off the gutters as I trudged through the farmyard, pausing at the door to the bottling department, before drawing in a deep gulp of air and going inside. Karen, Megan and Emma were all sat at their workstations, busying themselves. Looking up, Megan shouted, “Yes, he’s here. We all thought you’d be too frightened to come back.” With that she beckoned me over and continued, “Today you have to walk around with your jeans unzipped and your cock hanging out. And whenever you get a hard-on, you have to masturbate in front of me. Got it?” I nodded in response and without further hesitation I released myself before her.
Megan’s words had already stiffened me, and so I followed her command without question. I don’t think I can fully explain just how aroused it made me to submit to her every whim, but it was enough that the slightest hand movement had me sending jets of cum through the air and landing on her jeans. She seemed very pleased with this and, as the other two looked on, she unbuttoned her jeans and wriggled them down to the floor, revealing a black, lacy thong pulled tight into the fold between her legs. Watching my eyes closely, she slipped her hand down the front of the thin band of material and began to masturbate for me, before dropping her thong to the ground, and moving quickly to her chair. Lowering herself, she reached out with her left hand and grasped my now limp cock, pulling me towards her and downwards. It soon became clear that she wanted me on my hands and knees under her workstation; I complied.
Positioning myself to face her, my head between her knees, I now got my first close-up view of her vulva, as she slid forward in her seat. I’d never seen one like this before; her mons pubis was shaved, but unlike the others I’d seen, this one wasn’t very fleshy. If anything, it was hard looking. Between her pale skinned, outer labia, covered in a stubbly growth of hair, dark brown inner lips protruded. This was also new to me. All the while I looked, Megan worked her fingers in and out of her vagina, making loud squelching noises, before pulling them out and offering me them to suck. Greedily, I took them in my mouth and savoured her juices, until at last she reached behind the back of my head and pulled me to her wetness.
I began by stroking my tongue along the folds of those protruding lips, before licking inside, and then searching out her budding, erect clitoris. Continuing the pressure, swirling around Megan growing clit, I eased the index finger of my right hand into her, and moved it in increasingly wider circles, while she jolted and shuddered above me. Now I was in control, and I wasn’t going to let her off the hook. Another, and another, and another finger I pushed inside her, stretching her pussy wide and thrusting in and out. Only seconds had seemed to pass since her first climax, but now she was on the verge of a second. Tensing every sinew of her body, she pushed her hips towards me, and as she did so I took the opportunity for revenge. Removing one of my now well-lubricated fingers from her vagina, I rammed it as hard as I could into her anus, sending her into squeals of delight and yelps of pain, as she continued to thrust on me.
Finally, Megan subsided and slumped across her workstation, panting for breath. “You are going to pay for that,” she said in a rasp voice, as I slowly pulled my fingers from her.
I stayed under Megan’s workstation for what must have been another hour or so, with my face nuzzling into her slit. Every now and then, when the urge took her, she would drop her fingers down and spread her lips, inviting me to lick her to yet another orgasm. Then, about an hour before lunch, she reached down and pulled me out from between her legs by my hair.
“You're coming with me,” she said, pulling her jeans and panties up to her waist.
Grasping me by my semi-erect penis and dragging me across the room, Megan tapped open the washroom door and led me inside. It was a stark, bare place, lighted only by a small, frosted-glass window. Its once white walls were now dirty and grey. Only a plain white sink and a loo was there to be seen.
“Get on your knees in front of me and beg for my forgiveness,” Megan urged. No reply came from me, but I followed her instructions.
I’m not sure that at that point she had decided what my punishment would be, but seconds later her broadening smile revealed that she had had a flash of inspiration. By now, she had slipped off her shoes and removed her jeans and panties, so that looking up from where I knelt before her, I could see just how wet I’d made her. Gazing down at me, she slowly lowered herself onto the loo seat and spread her legs as wide as she could, affording me a perfect view of her pussy lips, as she parted them using her fingers in an inverted V shape, before letting loose a powerful jet of pee.
After a few seconds of taking in the glorious sight, Megan’s body and face took on a more relaxed and satisfied look about it. Opening her eyes, she seemed to take a hold of herself, clenching, and abruptly stopping her flow. Then, still holding her vulva splayed wide, she got to her feet and positioned herself directly above where I knelt, spreading her legs so as to manoeuvre above my face. Time seemed to slow for me, as I watched trickles of her golden liquid run down her inner thighs, and felt drops from her splash on my nose and lips.
“Lick me clean,” Megan ordered in an excited voice, as she reached behind my head and pulled it up to her dripping pussy.
I’d licked Beth’s and my two sisters’ pee stained panties before, but I’d never tasted urine direct from the source, so I was surprised by just how willing I was to go along with Megan’s wishes. Hardly had I begun to lap at her, when I felt my penis jolt and start to spew hot cum all over Megan’s bare feet and the cracked, cold tiles of the washroom floor. And as I did so, I sensed her body relax again.
Now came Megan’s full revenge. Opening herself wider, she sent a spray of hot pee cascading over me, before shooting a steamy jet straight into my gapping mouth. But her salty, acrid taste only served to make me ejaculate harder, as I drank from her.
Unfortunately, the experience was over far too soon, and when the sexual urge had left, the full realization of what I was doing hit me. There I was, kneeling on a grubby washroom floor, in a puddle of piss that was dripping from my face. I’d never felt so dirty and excited at the same time. In retrospect, I can pinpoint this event as the true start of my ‘water sports’ fetish.
Thrusting paper towels into my hand, Megan told me to clean up and get back to work.
“What about my wet shirt,” I enquired in a pathetic voice.
“Take it off and dry it on the radiator. Now get out,” she said, pushing me towards the door.
Following lunch, a call came through to Karen from the farm manager. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, of course, but by the look on Karen’s face and the terseness in her voice, I could tell that she wasn’t happy. “Fuck,” she screamed, banging the phone down. “You’re gonna have to have your turn today, Emma. That idiot of a manager has decided that he wants him working in the office for the rest of the week.”
As I’d seen them do before, Karen, Megan and Emma huddled together and began their plans for me. Again their cackles rang out, like chimes signalling impending doom. What surprised me most, I suppose, was seeing Emma’s gentle smile turn to a malevolent sneer. “Come on. I’m going to let you fuck me,” she squealed.
Leading me back into the storeroom, with Karen and Megan following close behind, Emma lifted her skirt and slipped her knickers to the ground, before leaning forward and resting one hand on the table. With her right hand she held her skirt around her waist, while parting her buttocks at the same time. From where I stood, I could now see her crinkly dark brown anus, protruding above the bulging outer lips of her vulva. I probably should have guessed what was going to happen, but it came as a shock when Karen took hold of my aching penis, and with Megan’s assistance, moved me into position behind Emma. At that point, I realised that I was about to experience full anal sex for the very first time.
Megan bent down and spat saliva all over the head of my straining cock and started to massage it in, before Karen directed the tip against Emma’s pouting anus, and located me inside. Now on her knees to my left, Megan cupped by testes and began to squeeze, as I looked to my right to see Karen grin and move behind me. Feeling her hand slip down between my buttocks, once again Karen began to ease my anus open and force her finger inside. This propelled me forward, pushing my about to burst penis deeper inside Emma, while all the time Megan squeezed my balls harder. As I watched the entire length of my rod disappear from view, I felt Karen’s finger wriggle inside me. Desperately, I tried to resist the urge to thrust, because I knew the pain it would cause me, but it was no good, and soon I was bucking hard, experiencing wave after wave of pain and pleasure in equal amounts, as I exploded deep inside Emma.
As Karen withdraw her searching finger, my penis came away from its anchorage, and drooped lifeless, while I stepped back a little and tried to recover my breath. It seemed for a moment that that would be the end of things, but my witches had one more surprise in store for me.
“I think he should get on this knees and clean all that cum out of Emma’s arsehole with his tongue. What do you reckon, Karen?” Megan said with deadly earnest.
“No, no, I’m not doing that,” I yelled back, edging to the door.
“Maybe not,” Karen replied, sinking to her knees behind Emma and pulling Megan down with her.
I can’t remember which of them did it, but soon they’d parted the crack of Emma’s bum, allowing me to see her bloodied and cum soaked anus. Then, like a pair of ravenous wolves, both women took it in turn to force their tongue into Emma and lap from her dripping anus.
As I backed out of the door, the last I saw was Emma turn her face to me and wink. It’s the last image I have of them, as we never met gain. (See below for link to Sara's Surprise - first in the set)
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/reluctance/witches-toil.aspx">Witches’ Toil</a>