Date: Wed, 25 Jul 2007 10:52:50 +0100 (BST) From: Lucy Hopper Subject: lucy is taken at last 7 (finale) I will spare you the details of what Tracey, with the willing help of Wendy, whom she must have rung from the bathroom during a brief break from beating me, did to me during the rest of that night. The sounds overhead gradually died away as poor Mrs Henderson was pleasured unconscious to shouts of laughter and then odd giggles. I heard them coming down the stairs, pausing to collect my own two teenaged torturers and then they were all gone. I slept for four hours, rang work to say I was ill, sank into a hot bath for another, and slept for four more. At lunchtime I played around with a piece of toast and a coffee, thought about sleeping again, but got dressed properly instead. I could take no more. I had to get away from the house in case they came back with more friends. I was owed a week's holiday. I rang the office again to say I would take it immediately to recover after a bug I had picked up. I sat on the edge of the bed wondering whether I should go home - I somehow felt I could not meet my mother's and sister's eyes after what had been done to me here and what I had loved having done to me, too. Then there was a tap on the door and Mrs Henderson appeared, pale, but composed, dressed in a coat to go out, a suitcase in one hand. She looked at the devastated bed. 'Put your bedclothes in the washing machine. I have just taken mine out,' she said quietly. I noticed for the first time that she had a faint Irish accent. I knew nothing about her. `I am going away for a while. I know now how they seduced you. They took little enough time to take me - although long enough to let me go. My brother has a fishing cabin at Dungeness on the Kent coast. He says I can use it for a week or so. I told him I need a break. Lucy, will you be Ok here, when they come back? Would you think about coming away with me for a break. Then they cannot come back. The woman next door runs the Neighbourhood Watch. She will report any suspicious visitors.' `Oh yes,' I heard myself say clearly. `I will come.' I bent to strip away the bedclothes and she put down her bag and helped me. She gasped at the state of them. `They did as much to you as they did to me, she said. `I begged them to pleasure me again and again, you know. I beseeched them to go on and on debauching me.' The Irish accent sounded stronger. `I know how it goes,' I said simply, taking the clothes through the room behind the kitchen. `I think we should go at once, Lucy. I'll get the car out. Pack a bag. Warm things. It's blowy on the beach around there. Maybe we could got for a few walks. Blow some of this away.' And she was gone. I packed swiftly, jeans and sweaters and boots and socks, clothes for cold winds, but I found myself adding my very best underwear, expensive underwear, my sexiest nightie and, as an afterthought, I added the strap on dildo and the lubricant and tucked them down at the bottom of the case, under my make up box. We drove in silence for much of the way. Eventually she told me her name was Charlene. Her father was Irish, her mother, died when she was ten, American. She had taught tiny kids in Ireland, married, come to England with her husband, had two fine boys, but then the husband had a roving eye and strayed. But at that very time she had found herself repulsed by him in bed and she was only too glad when he moved out. He still paid the mortgage, paid a good allowance for her and the children and had the boys to stay every other weekend. In return she was going to let him have the divorce he wanted, her religious objections seemed hypocritical - she didn't want him so a reconciliation was out of the question. He needed a wife. He was a good enough man. `And you,' she said. `Did you never have a man?' `No, no,' I said. `I knew from a very early age that I would never want a man.' `I see,' she said quietly. `I sensed that in recent weeks - your visitors^Å. You know until last night, I really had no idea that that was what I wanted, needed, craved. They tried to be cruel but they were everything I desired.' `Me too,' I said. The cabin was a converted railway carriage at the back of the great shingle beach at Dungeness. Two lighthouses, two nuclear power stations, a fishing fleet and a host of anglers along the beach, one bar and not much else. But she as able to park the car up close and we scuttled in out of the wind and got the wood burning stove started. I looked out of the window at the distant spray of the breaking sea. She stood next to me, smart, composed, middle-aged, in sensible sweater and skirt and knee-length boots. A mumsy mother of two. The wild and frenzied creature of the night before whom I had seen dragged naked from the room in a headlock, still moaning from her endless orgasm, seemed a million years ago. She seemed to sense what I was thinking. 'What terrible secrets we share!' she said. `Perhaps you should find a new room when we go back.' `I think I should find a new city,' I said. `Shall I take the bed settee?' `Oh there's twin beds next door,' she said. `I hardly think we shall be bothering each other at night!' I was startled. `Ok,' I said. `Shall we just walk down to the sea?' She shivered. `No, no, you go. I'll see to the fire. I've brought some basic foods. I'll see what he has in his freezer. Not all fish, I hope. There will certainly be plenty of booze.' She laughed, the first time I ever heard her really laugh. She was right to turn down the walk, though. The wind was wild and even the anglers had packed up and gone when I reached the waves crashing on the shingle. I hurried back, although the beach was steep and it was a long, harder haul up it than it had been going down. There was no sign of her when I thankfully bolted the creaking front door against the wind. I wondered how on earth we would spend a week here together. We probably had nothing in common. We would go mad! I went in search of the bedroom to unpack. Too late. My sexy nightie was laid out on the pillow. The top drawer of the little dresser was open, full of my expensive lingerie. `I half unpacked for you, Lucy,' said that cool Irish voice behind me. `Just the top layer. Then I thought I'd better not in case you had private stuff there.' `Private stuff? You wouldn't have opened my diary?' `No, of course not! But, who knows? We all have secrets. I was going to put the undies back, but the I thought you'd have noticed and that would have been creepier. I'm sorry. They're very sexy undies. The ones you hang out in the utility room, at home are rather more everyday.' `Oh well you know, sort of holiday packing!' `Right. Well, there's loads of food and drink, as I thought. I'll fix us some dinner. You go through his dvds under the set. They're probably decent enough. He's a lecturer. He may have been a lecturer, but he was a dirty bugger. He had all sorts of stuff stashed away there. I put most it back under the set. I'm not sure if I'd have wanted to know my brother had stuff like that. But I couldn't resist lingering over the lesbian stuff. It look like lazier stuff for men, all right. Women doing women, They love the thought of that, although I can't actually see that there's much in it for them! I glanced at the covers and hid those in one corner. Stuff for a sleepless night when my new landlady companion was snoring. I found us a decent film or two. Good double bill. Good double bill. Good food. Good wine. Good evening all round. Wee thoroughly enjoyed sitting there in our sagging armchairs. I let her go into bed first and then I followed after a discreet pause. As I climbed into my bed she snapped the light out. `This is just want I needed, Lucy,' she said. `Me, too,' I said. And at the moment, I did need a rest. The weather brightened over the next couple of days. We walked, drove, shopped, had pub lunches, fish and chips in the evening, watched some more dvds and read bits of his paperbacks. On the third evening as we went to bed, she had a stiff neck. It had bothered her ever since she got up after lying awkwardly. I had had to do all the during all day. She tried to lie with a pile of cushions under her pillow. `No, you'd be better with one in a minute,' I said. `Leave them for a moment,. I turned her face down and started to give her a strong but not too hard neck massage, squeezing the tautness from the stretch between her neck and her left shoulder. I had to push her nightie down a bit to work on the shoulder. `Everything's connected,' I said. Actually, I just had to rub that beautiful round, warm, fragrant shoulder. She had such flawless white skin, too. Beautiful to touch. I went back to her neck. I could feel her loosening, almost purring. I could not lose the image in my mind of her being manipulated on her feet by the woman and the girl and of the way she just surrendered. `Don't go away! I`ve got some lotion that might help,' I said. But when I got back to the bed 20 seconds later she had tossed the nightie outside and was lying face down, naked. Her voice was muffled into the pillow. `I know you brought the strap-on, Lucy' she said. 'Just get it.' I tugged my case out from under the bed and opened it. My hands were shaking. No longer Lucy, the taken victim, Lucy the eager taker. I was dying to tie it on. I stripped and stood preening myself in front of the flyblown wardrobe mirror. I looked very good, I thought. I stroked my breasts and my thighs, fondled myself between my legs and murmured in pleasure. Nobody was going to burst in the door. Nobody was going to pee on my here! However much I had loved all that and always would, right now I was going to do what I wanted with Charlene, and she must have known it. I saw her reflection staring at me from the mirror. I continued to stroke myself in front of the mirror and then slowly strapped on the cumbersome dildo. The size of it was really ludicrous! It would have given any man a terrible inferiority complex. I adjusted it, tightened, turned one way and then the other, strutting and preening again. It got me going all right, and from the gasp on the bed and the way her full lips had parted, my landlady was finding it quite a turn on, too. I walked with some difficulty over to her bed where she lay naked and I began to stroke her big round soft ass which I absolutely loved after all the tight, toned girls I had known. Nothing came more absolutely feminine than this body. The texture of the back was lovely and velvety to my touch, too. Her bent arms as she clutched then pillow were full and round and delicious. I ran my hands down from her shoulders to her hips. She shivered. I kissed her ass and then her thighs, the smooth skin behind her knees and on down to her feet. I rubbed her ankles and then the soles of her feet and she twitched and protested.' No, not feet. Too ticklish. Really. Not feet1 No! I mean it, Lucy Not joking! But I had her feet now. I bent her legs at the knee, clutched her ankles together in one hand, turned and sat on her ass and began to remorselessly tickle first one foot then the other with my left hand toe nails. She screamed and thrashed and twisted. I began to tickle very lightly, then stooped and kissed and sucker her toes, letting go of her. She protested no more. I moved up her body, turned her, and began to kiss her. Her mouth was so full and soft and generous. Her tongue slid out and into mine, filling it, exploring every corner and crevice. The strap-on kept coming between us. I wanted to fondle her, stroke her, lick her, kiss her, suck her, prepare her, but I was not going to be allowed to. `No more, Just fuck me with it!' she gasped. `Just slip it in and fuck me with it. It's still slippery. I can feel. Put it in and fuck me with it.' I did as I was told. She stuck her arse up and let me slide it into her form behind, deep into her pussy. I reached round as I began to thrust and my fingers found her pussy lips and stroked them as I found the rhythm. At the end of each stroke I was almost into her myself as our bodies touched so hot and close and as I slid it back again I left my fingers fondle and tease her. She had found the rhythm now, too, and thrust her ass back hard at me. I smacked it as hard as I could. I saw the red imprint of my palm on her white ass and it shocked me but I smacked her again. Ad a third time. Really hard. The pain and the pleasure were getting to her now, I could see that. I dug my nails deep into her soft ass and she gasped again. I stooped to kiss tieback of her neck and she struggled, turned and met my mouth with hers and bit my lower lip. `Bitch' I said laughing. I smacked her ass even harder and began to ride her as a man would have ridden her. She had an extraordinary sweet vanilla smell about her, rising from her hot skin, her own natural smell. It made my senses swirl .I could see why Dee and Cammie could not leave her alone once they had started. Her abandonment was so complete, her twisting, jerking, panting response so absolute that I was desperate to cum myself. I stripped off the strap-on much as Tracey had with me, and I fell on her, turned her, began to slide my wet hand into her, twisting it and turning it as I fisted her faster and faster. She came in such a screaming rush that it took us both by surprise and then she was wrestling and fighting back and had me on my back and was trying to force her plump hand into me now. `No,' I cried. `Too big, Charlene!' `No, Lucy' she said evenly. `You are the victim now. You know that is the way it will always be. For me, sometimes, if Cammie ever gets me alone again. But I will always have you to abuse now. ` So she fisted me anyway, right inside and up and on and as I began to scream she worked me faster and faster, panting, gasping, swearing as she did me. She pushed me aside as I gasped for air.' Enough now,' I said. `Enough for a while. Need rest. Take a break.' But she smacked me across the face and I suddenly realised she was wearing the strap-on now and with a shout of triumph she began to fuck me with it, hard, cruelly, violently, pulling my nipples with her fingers, biting my chin. When my final cumming began I thought I had lost control of every part of me. For all I knew, I could have wetted the bed, or worse and gone on and one. But it was just me cumming and cumming, spraying like a feral animal, grunting and taking it and loving it. My landlady was fucking me and I was hers for ever as far as I was concerned. And I was. We spent the rest of the week rutting and fucking on the floor to her brother's lesbian porn. I drove the car every time we went out. She insisted. And she fondled me and fingered me inside my panties every mile of the way on every journey. Sometimes she made me drive in just my panties and when she had them soaked she ripped them off and fondled my naked pussy as we drove on and on. By the time we got back in the evenings after a quick meal out all I wanted to do was lie on the bed and wait to be fisted and fucked and toyed insensible. She no longer wanted anything for herself. It drove me crazy. I longed to smell her, touch her, kiss her, love her, but she thrust me away and fucked me again and again. She had the taste for it and I was what she wanted. And when we drove back at the end of the week and Saturday night came and the girls came knocking, I heard her coolly answering them through the chained door. `No, Lucy will not be coming out. And you will not be coming in. Lucy belongs to me now. And I will do what I like to her.' And she did. And she does. And if she ever reads this she will thrash me and thrash me until I cum again. And I will love it. Love it. But the day will come when I get away from here and I will round up Cammie and Marie and Dolores. I know they have her scent and her feel and they will be only too happy to oblige when I ask them to go back with me to the house and I will sit and watch and finger myself frantic as I watch them exact Lucy's revenge and turn that woman back to the submissive slut they knew. The day will come. The End Goodbye for now from lucybabypet@yahoo.co.uk