Chapter 43: hospital bedroom

Michael had his hand between Lucy’s legs, three fingers in her pussy, his thumb working her clit. Her tongue was pushed so far down his throat he swore she could lick the back of his tonsils. He could feel her coming orgasm in his mind and worked her pussy faster to push her over the edge. She screamed her climax into his mouth as another wash of headlights lit up Janine’s bouncing tits and another motorist sounded his appreciation on his car horn.

Michael felt Janine’s orgasm starting in a far more direct way as her inner muscles tightened around his cock. She became frantic, bouncing up and down on his shaft like a maniac. Her eyes widened in climax just as another car drove around the corner. She could see the man behind the wheel, eyes wide at what he was seeing. His wife in the passenger seat looked incredibly shocked. They could see her, see her breasts, see her fucking someone invisible behind the car body. Janine’s head rocked back and she screamed out an orgasm so hard she felt like her heart would burst.

She came down and rolled off Michael into her own seat, noticing that his cock was still hard. “You haven’t finished,” Michael told her. “I didn’t cum. Finish me off and then suck me clean.” Her cheeks went flame red at the thought of not being able to make him cum. She quickly got on her knees, pulled her hair back, and wrapped her mouth around his cock. Her technique was still dreadful, but Michael was close enough anyway that he began to spew jism into her mouth a few seconds later. “Swallow it, whore,” he ordered and she did her best to suck it all down. When he had finished, her tongue lapped around his slowly softening cock, cleaning their combined juices away. “Good girl,” Michael told her, straightening his clothes while she sat meekly in the seat beside him. “Now get out.”

“W-what?” Janine looked terrified.

Michael raised his seat back to its upright position. “Get out. I want Lucy to drive us to my house. You will sit in this seat.”

“W-why?” she said, opening her car door and stepping carefully onto the tarmac.

“Because, slut, I’m going to play with your tits all the way back to my house.”

“I-I’m going to be topless?”

Lucy had climbed into the driver’s seat by now and started the engine. Michael climbed into the back and waited for Janine to get into the passenger seat. “You’re going to be naked,” he said. “Now get in before I change my mind and leave you here.”

Janine hurried to get into the car, and Lucy pulled away before the brunette was fully in her seat. Michael’s arms slid over Janine’s shoulders and he pinched her large nipples between thumb and forefinger. Janine moaned in pain and pleasure; her hand went down between her legs. Lucy began to laugh. “Fucking slut,” she commented as she drove through the night to Michael’s house.

There was a car on Julia’s drive that Michael had never seen before; a large, black sedan with New York plates. He shrugged, figuring it had to be a friend of hers staying for the night. He kissed Lucy and told her he would see her in the morning. Then he padded into his house, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

Things were going to be all right, he thought. Perhaps he would try out for the football team; maybe he could get a place. Whatever, he would be among the popular kids at school, rather than one of the also-rans. He had Lucy, who loved him and adored his cock, and Janine (and probably half the cheerleading squad) would be happy to be humiliated any time either of them wished to use her. Yes, things were working out well.

The light was on in the lounge and he could hear the sound of the TV set. He walked in, wondering what his mother would say about the state of his clothes, and came to a sudden halt.

His mother was tied to one of the upright dining room chairs, a large ball gag rammed into her mouth. Bruises showed around her face and her dress was torn. Her eyes widened as she saw him and she seemed to be trying to tell him something as he rushed toward her.

Pain exploded across the back of his skull and he realised what her message was. Whoever it was that had tied her up was still in the house. Unfortunately by that time the world was fading rapidly to black and it was too late.

Michael woke up in a white room. At first he thought it was a hospital bedroom, but as soon as his senses returned he knew that this was a dreamscape. For one thing, hospital bedrooms had beds in them; Michael was lying on the floor. He was still wearing his party clothes, bare feet and everything, so the self-image had come from his current real-world status. He stood, and located a door that opened when he pulled on the handle. It opened onto a white corridor and Michael was beginning to wonder if this dreamer needed to get a new decorator.

He padded down the length of the corridor. All the doors he passed were locked, and anyway he somehow knew that the room he wanted was at the other end. After trying a few doors he gave up and ran down to the door at the far end of the passage way. He opened it and light flared around him causing him to cover his eyes.

The room that emerged from the light was large with oak-panelled walls and huge chairs padded with red fabric. It looked like a kind of court, something like he had seen on TV; the Old Bailey in London maybe. Except that no judge he knew of was a six-foot stick of a man dressed in a long, black coat with skin as white as chalk. Four other figures, who appeared to be quite similar, floated behind him. They appeared a little translucent as though they were not really there.

Several large men were standing around the room wearing business suits and sun glasses. They looked like Secret Service agents or FBI, but with a hint of menace that neither of those groups could muster.

Two of them flanked Julia, and the sight of her made Michael’s heart drop in his chest. She had been winched into a leather corset that had to be breaking ribs. Her breasts were forced out the top of it in a manner that he would have found very appealing under normal circumstances. Her wrists were fitted through a yoke that had been clamped around her neck. Her feet, fitted into horrific looking eight-inch ballerina-style spiked shoes, were kept wide apart by the iron spreader bar fixed between her ankles. Her mouth was spread wide by a dental gag with a ratchet fitting that had been opened as far as it would go. Her face and arms were bruised, her nipples reddened and sore; there was dried spunk plastered over her face, breasts, and naked pussy. Michael had never seen her looking so… beaten.

“Mr Peters.” The tall man’s voice rang out across the room. “You have been called here to hear the judgement that has been passed upon you and those who know you.”

“What judgement? I don’t…”