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Bruce paid her no mind. He kept grinding his hips, ramming his thick cock into her asshole. He pushed his cock forward into her ass with brutal strokes. He reamed her asshole with wild abandon.

"Oh yeah! That's one tight asshole you got there, guile. So fucking tight. Come on, bitch. Swivel those hips. Get your cute little asshole nice and tight around my prick. Milk my cock with your asshole. Yeah. Oh, yeah! Wild, crazy ass!"

Melissa groaned in pain. Boy, Bruce sure was a wild and crazy asshole, she thought. A real mental jerk-off! She sobbed and cursed at Bruce. "Bastard! Cocksucker! Prick! Shit-sucker! Fan-eater. Fucking asshole!" she screamed. She had been a real fool to think that he could be anything but a crude, debauched, evil, demonic stupid son of a bitch.

Then, all of a sudden, it occurred to her that the intense pain in her nether-hole was beginning to dissipate. The pain was starting to meld with feelings of unbridled lust and pleasure. Yes, actual pleasure. Although Bruce was brutally raping her asshole, she began to respond to his vicious cock-thrusts by bucking her ass backwards so that his prick could penetrate even deeper. She felt both shame and ecstasy at the same time. A strange carnal mixture of steamy sexual tension and desire built inside her loins, and she yearned for passionate, sexual release. The Big O.

"Oh, oh my God. It's… it's… oh, Bruce. Don't stop," Melissa cried out. She could hardly believe her own words. But she tightened the muscles in her asshole and milked his prick.

"Unnnggghhhh! Unnnnggghbhh!" he moaned as he pumped his cock faster into her asshole. "I'm gonna cum! Yeah! Oh! Aaaggghhhhh!"

As his thick jism shot up her asshole, Melissa whimpered, writhing on his thick spurting cock. She jerked her ass hard against his prick. Every muscle in her body went rigid. She shuddered.

"Unnggghbhh! Oh, God. Fucking shit!" she wailed. Her orgasm was sharp and hit her like a ton of red-hot bricks on a cold winter night. A warm glow of passionate release spread through her loins, enveloping her asshole, her cunt, her tits, her face, her legs, every part of her body, as the climax swept away the pain of the ass-fucking and the degradation she had experienced.

Bruce rolled off of her and stretched out on the floor. He fell asleep almost immediately. Melissa looked at him as he lay on his back. She sat up and watched his giant prick slowly soften and shrink in size. Slimy cum oozed from his prick-tip. With mixed feelings, she leaned forward and flicked her tongue over his balls and cock. Then she eagerly licked the drop of thick jism that clung to his prick-tip.

Raising herself off the floor in tired, slow movements, she managed to stand up. Her leg muscles were so tired that they twitched and spasmed, causing her to wobble on her feet and almost to fall down. From head to toe, her body ached. Her cunt was sore and, as she began to walk, she winced as she felt a sharp pain engulf her ravaged asshole.

Bruce was snoring loudly. He lay on the floor, sleeping soundly. Melissa looked down at him, shrugged and, shaking her head, said, "Boy, Bruce. You sure gave me one hell of a work out. You fuck pretty good. But, I got a say that you are one big fucking pain in the ass." Bruce was asleep and could not appreciate her little joke. He just kept on snoring, a big grin pasted on his face.

She strolled wearily to the regal spiral staircase and walked upstairs to service Diane. "Boy," she muttered to herself. "Diane and Bruce sure do wear me out. I don't know how long I can keep this up. If only I can get my hands on those damned incriminating tapes in Diane's safe, I'll run away from this house of perversion and start a new life." But, there really was not much chance of that, she thought. She would probably die of exhaustion before she ever got the opportunity to steal the tapes of her confession and escape.

Then she remembered the girl that Diane and Bruce had bed talking about at breakfast. What was the girl's name? Oh, yeah – Doris. A cute, little thirteen-year-old virgin. That was how Diane had described her niece. And Doris was due to arrive at the mansion this very afternoon, Melissa thought.

Well, with Doris around for Bruce and Diane to fuck with, Melissa would finally get some rest. Little Doris. Only thirteen years old. Poor kid. Poor little innocent virgin kid, Melissa thought, shaking her head in pity for the little girl. If only Doris knew the depraved household she was about to enter, Melissa mused. Then she rushed toward Diane's bedroom to service her mistress.

The huge, muscular man nicknamed "Bull" drove out to meet Doris at the airport. Doris had expected to be greeted by her aunt, Aunt Diane. She looked about the airport anxiously after stepping into the lounge area, but she could not see her aunt. To her surprise, a hulk of a man I lumbered forward, gripped her firmly by the arm and spun her around.

"Your name Doris," he asked in a deep, gruff voice.

"Yes, Doris is my name," replied the startled thirteen-year-old redhead. "But, who are you?"

"Just call me Bull. Everybody calls me Bull. So just call me Bull. When I was a kid, they used to call me Ape. Can you imagine that? Yeah, they called me Ape when I was a kid, but now that I'm a grown-up, they call me Bull. Don't know exactly why, they just do is all. So just call me Bull, okay?"

"Okay, Bull," replied Doris. My heavens, she thought, why in the world did Aunt Diane send this animal to pick her up at the airport? No wonder he had always been named after animals. Bull was a hulking, hairy guy. He weighed about three hundred pounds, all of it muscle. He was so hairy that he looked like he had swung in on a vine.

"Hey, Bull. Let go of my arm, will you please? You're gonna break it in two!"

"Oh, yeah," said Bull, releasing his grip. "I'm sorry, Doris. They tell me I don't know my own strength. Ever since I was a kid, they told me that."

"Where's my Aunt Diane? She's not sick is she? I expected her to pick me up."

"No, she ain't sick," Bull answered. "At least, I don't think she's sick. She didn't say nothin' about bein' sick. But, maybe. Oh, jeez, Doris. You're getting me all mixed up."

"I'm sorry, Bull," said Doris, reaching up and patting his thick broad shoulders in a gesture of pity, understanding and forgiveness. Gee, she thought, Bull was not too bright. But he seemed like a nice fellow. Just stupid. He seemed harmless. Then she wondered how such a nice guy like Bull got tagged with such an awful nickname.

Bull led her to the impressive purple Rolls-Royce, opened the back door and said, "Get in, Doris."

As she sat in the plush seat on her ride to Aunt Diane's home, Doris could not hide the fact that she was very impressed. "Why, wait a beautiful car, Bull," she said. "I guess Aunt Diane is really rich, huh?"

"Yeah, she's rich all right. Your aunt is about as rich as they come, I guess."

"I really don't know her very well, you know?" she said. "I only met her once, at a funeral. So I really don't know her, but I guess she's a pretty nice lady, huh?"

"Oh, you bet. She takes good care of old Bull," he responded. "Golly, Doris. I just don't know what would have become of me if it hadn't been for your Aunt Diane. You see, I used to be a professional football player. Played for the Green Bay Packers tackle. But, one day, I was under a whole heap of players, and my helmet cracked, and, well, I guess all that weight on my head just kinda squished my brains around. And, well, I ain't been able to think too well since then. Oh, I can follow orders, all tight. Miss DeMarrow needed somebody big around the place, and she gave me a job working for her. She gives me the orders, and I do what she tells me is all. Half the time, I don't remember from one day to the next what she has me do. But it's okay. I don't live too badly. I don't know what would have happened to me if it wasn't for your Aunt Diane."

Gee, Doris thought. Aunt Diane must be a really nice lady to help Bull out like that. The poor guy.

After a half hour drive, the purple Rolls-Royce turned off the highway and entered the DeMarrow estate. Doris knew it was her aunt's home when they passed under a huge gate with a sign which proclaimed "DeMarrow Manor" in tall, bold letters.