No Lobsters Were Harmed: My Weekend Part 2.

And I was probed and probed and probed. The noise must have been deafening. Oh no wait, that's right. I was gagged with penis. No one could hear me scream, but I am certain they heard my pathetic, muffled squeaks.

Now, I am not certain at which point, but eventually, the foreign object in my arse was removed. Alistair stood up and took it from Jimmy. I felt a sense of impending doom. It seemed that payback time proper was about to begin. I wish I could say that it all happened so quickly, but alas, it was veritable slow-motion. I find that words escape me as I try to articulate the horror that I felt as Alistair shoved the dildo, which minutes ago had been shoved in my arse, into my mouth.

Romance is not dead. It is alive and well, and occupies a small space of cold, hard floor in my friends' kitchen.

And after fellating arse-dildo, was I let be? Was I shown a degree of mercy? Hell no. I was pulled up to my feet and bent over so my hands rested on the windowsill. As Jimmy was handed a cane, I could see friends outside, enjoying the sunshine. It was decided that I would be dealt six strokes. I pleaded, but there was no getting out of this. And Jimmy is strong. He wields a cane with some gusto. I cried out after each extruciating swish. And then I just plain cried.

It wasn't the pain that did it.


I just wanted to be held by Alistair, because it had happened again.

It was one of those moments where my predicament dawned on me. Where I realised that once again, my mind had been well and truly infiltrated. That I would go wherever Alistair led me. And that is the surest way to make me cry. You see, for somebody who wears her heart on her sleeve as much as I do, in many ways, I am actually quite a guarded person. It's just that I am guarded in a way that most are never aware of.

Then I was manhandled into the kitchen, and there I lay on my back, with Alistair straddling my head, and his cock rammed into my mouth. Meanwhile, Jimmy spanked my pussy gleefully. In this case, "gleefully" means "hard as hell". Occasionally, there were brief interludes in which he slapped my face. And I was having none of it. As we have already established, I pretty much behave for Alistair, but I was not going to take it from Jimmy. I hurled as much cheek at him as I could.

And then Robert surfaced. So now there were three boys, a swollen pussy, and two red, sore cheeks. Scratch that. Four red, sore cheeks. And everytime I yelped and let go of Alistair's cock, I was threatened with more abuse.

The extent to which Alistair could have seen his threats through at this point is debatable. This is because at least a small proportion of his brain was in Lala Land, tripping as it was on MDMA. My face was not only "covered in snow", but was also decorated in all manner of Latin writings. As was the kitchen floor. It is not all that common to trip on MDMA, and whilst I hate tripping myself, if my pussy hadn't been so sore, I would have been more amused.

Little did I know that more treats were in store. Indeed, I truly believed that the gods were smiling down on me that morning. Not only was I assaulted with hands and canes, but now also with a plastic lobster. No one can say quite where he produced it from, but Jimmy seemed to have struck up an instant bond with the synthetic crustacean. Personally, if I never see its little orange face again, I won't be sorry. And I can honestly say that being spanked by fake seafood hurts like a bitch.