"Ah, see how tightly they cling to my cock?" Dr. Villiers said. "See how your flesh loves my flesh, X-999?"
"Yes, yes," Marcy said, raising her head to watch his surging prick thrust forward and back between her breasts. She looked yearningly at the swollen crown, with its pearly drop of moisture oozing from the tiny tip. If only her tongue were long enough to reach it!
After a few more thrusts, Dr. Villiers tired of that game, and moved the heavy weight of his prick down her midriff and across her belly. She watched in mounting excitement as it passed her navel, and slithered through her silky pubic hair until it reached the pink lips of her cunt.
"Ah, here they are," Dr. Villiers said. "The gates to a woman's soul! The passage to her inner being. The reason for her existence. To me, the ultimate creation would be a woman who would be nothing but a cunt, who would live for nothing but to have her burning slit filled with cock day and night. Someday, a woman like that will rule the world."
"I have no desire to rule the world," Marcy said, "but I think I would like to feel your big cock filling my cunt."
"You are fortunate, my dear, that such a perfect prick is at hand to fuck you," Dr. Villiers said. "And it is not by accident that it grew to such proportions. It is the result of intense scientific training since boyhood, and constant manipulation by the well known sexologist, Dr. Alice Villiers, who happens to be my mother."
"Your mother?" Marcy's eyes were big as saucers. "Your mother touched you there?"
"Strictly in the interest of science," Dr. Villiers said calmly. "Her life's dream was to create a super sexed man, and where better to start than with her own son? Yes, from the time I was an infant, she sucked me, masturbated me, and fucked me. And all to intensify my awareness, my interest, and my stamina in the field of sexual exploration."
This frank admission of mother-son incest shocked and excited Marcy. But there was no time to dwell on that now. Dirk Villiers was positioning his rock-hard cock between the open lips of her cunt. She savored the sound of that word in her mind: cunt – cunt – cunt! He was about to drive his fucking cock up her cunt! She wiggled her bottom expectantly, and felt her inner muscles contract with the need to be penetrated and filled.
"Please – please!" she heard herself begging, as the hot prick separated the outer cunt lips, and shivers of fear and passion danced along her nerves. "Do it! Do it!"
"Do what?" Dr. Villiers asked. "You know the word, X-999! Say it!"
"Yes, yes, I know it!" Marcy choked. She gasped and sputtered, and finally managed to nudge the word out past her clenched teeth. "F-fuck me! There, I said it! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
"Good girl!" Villiers said. "You have passed another milestone in your liberation from Puritanism. Now we shall proceed to honor your request."
The hard head of his cock sank in a little, and Marcy felt a fullness and a stretching as his relentlessly probing shaft moved deeper into her sensitive sheath, until it came to a halt against the barrier of her hymen.
"Wait – wait," she pleaded, trying to hold him off with her hand on his flanks.
"Does it hurt?" he asked. "Does my huge cock stretch your little cunt, until you are afraid it will be ripped from its moorings and driven out through your back?"
"Yes – yes," she panted, drawing her knees up and pounding her feet on the bed. "It hurts – it hurts so deliciously!"
"And that is what we are striving for, isn't it?" he said, drawing back slightly and then ramming into her full force, putting all the strength of his powerful buttocks and thighs into the attack.
Marcy screeched, and skyrockets burst in her brain as she felt the hymen give, and something warm and wet ooze out around the mammoth mass of him. It was blood, she knew, and it signaled that she was finally and forever deflowered.
"More – more – more!" she grunted, and his ruthlessly pounding cock pinned her to the bed, slamming relentlessly into her and driving her whole body forward, until her blonde head was butting against the headboard. His hands were holding her legs spread so wide that they were almost perpendicular to her hips. Her golden-tressed cunt was fully open to his violent assault, like the gates of a conquered city to the victorious invader.
CHAPTER THREE
The next morning Marcy was dragged from bed by a strapping Swedish masseuse named Mrs. Swenson, and bullied into eating a breakfast twice the size of the one she usually had.
"Eat it! Eat it all!" Mrs. Swenson ordered. "Dr. Villiers has prescribed each item to increase your strength and stamina for the experiments to come."
"But I'm tired," Marcy complained, "and I ache all over."
"The soreness will be gone by the time you are bathed, massaged, and exercised," the broad-hipped, muscular woman said. "But we have only an hour for all that, so we must hurry."
"Only an hour? What's the rush?"
"Doctor's orders," Mrs. Swenson said. "I do not make the rules around here, I only see that they are carried out. I do not approve of what goes on, but Dr. Villiers is my boss and the pay is good, so I keep my mouth shut and do what I'm told. I advise you to do the same."
"Oh, all right," Marcy sulked, but she let the big woman strip her, and followed instructions to take a hot and then a cold shower. When that was done, Mrs. Swenson lifted her onto a massage table and pummeled and pounded her until her flesh was rosy and tingling, and all her aches and pains were rubbed away.
Dr. Villiers arrived in time to watch as a tightlipped Mrs. Swenson dressed Marcy in long, black net stockings, sheer bikini panties with a zipper from the front to the back of the crotch, and a bra that was merely a display shelf for the lush mounds of her breasts. The doctor took over then, pinching Marcy's nipples into hard peaks and then applying a deep red lipstick to them.
When he was finished, Mrs. Swenson turned the girl around to face a full-length mirror, and Marcy's face flamed as she stared at her reflection. Then the woman brushed her hair until it shone. Could this wanton whore who looked back at her, this tart with the garishly painted tits and underclothes that flaunted her blatant sensuality – could this be the Marcy who had been so prim and proper only yesterday morning? No, it couldn't be! That Marcy wouldn't have permitted her body to be so vulgarly exhibited. That Marcy wouldn't have yielded to the temptation to move her shoulders, and see the brazen globes jiggle. She would not have swished her hips in a suggestive manner that made Dr. Villiers grin and Mrs. Swenson scowl.
"Come along, X-999," Dirk Villiers said, dropping a white, transparent poncho-like garment over the erotic under things. "The Karlows will love you. There's nothing they like better than dressing up for sex games."
Marcy followed him obediently down a long hallway. "Do they – I mean, do they really make love to each other?" she finally found the courage to ask.
"I wouldn't call it 'making love'," Dr. Villiers said. "They fuck each other just as they fuck any other living creature that crosses their path. That is why they make good experimental subjects."
He turned the knob of a door marked Laboratory #2, and entered ahead of Marcy. The Karlows rushed to greet him. Kyle was dressed in a loincloth and headband, and his tanned body glistened with fragrant oil. A copper slave collar was fastened around his neck, and Karla held the other end of the chain attached to it. She was dressed in a flowing Grecian gown that left one shoulder and one high, golden breast bare. Her pretty face was flushed, and in her hand was a small black whip which she had already used, judging from the red welts on her brother's back.