Up through the thick, jerking red cock Diablo's sperm rushed, swelling the rod to huge proportions, shooting out the end, thick, hot, white and ropey into the devastated young girl's pussy in surging waves. Cherie gasped as she felt the first soft bullets strike the back wall of her vagina and she froze in the middle of her second orgasm as she was filled to the brim with the hot, white stuff.
"That's it, darling," Vanessa crooned. "Take it all. Oh, yes, and I can see there's gallons of it."
Clawing up handfuls of the bedspread, Cherie watched in the mirror and five pairs of eyes saw the thick, sticky semen explode from the tightly clasping lips of her vagina to smear her hairy labia and run in vile rivulets down the back of her thighs to pool in the hollows behind her knees. And still it went on, erupting into her in great gouts like lava from the mouth of a volcano, coating her inner surfaces and filling her tubes with his millions of wriggly sperm, Diablo's puppy cream. The scaldling heat of it sent Cherie into yet another, third orgasm and she groaned a throaty groan as she lost consciousness and fell forward in an insensate, shivering heap.
With a sloppy, wet pop, Diablo's cock was pulled free and he stood back, panting, to survey his work. The girl's hair-rimmed slit beckoned to him and he bent to lick it clean of the dog-cum that trickled from it in thick streams. Then, himself satisfied, he lay down behind her, his furry body aligned with hers and his paw draped over her side.
Vanessa and Herb, on different sides of the glass, breathed sighs of satisfaction. The girl had been initiated. Now of no further personal use to Herb, she had been brought to the level of a business asset, to be used for a wide variety of things. Her body was now like a word processor, a business machine to be used by his associates ands clients.
In the two days that followed, Cherie kept mainly to herself when her secretarial skills were not in demand in the conference room. She took long walks in the afternoon by herself when Herb allowed her the time off. But on her afternoon walk on Saturday, the day before the junket was due to end, Diablo followed her into the woods, treading along beside her faithfully.
Faithfully, that was until he began to sniff at the nubile aroma coming from between her legs and then he became quite insistent, so insistent that she found it necessary – in order to keep from being savaged – to kneel down in the bed of fallen leaves on the forest floor and allow him to mount her while she held the crotch-band of her panties to the side to facilitate the penetration of his cock into her cunt. At first she loathed it, but as he stroked faster and deeper, her pussy began to recall the feelings of the day before and she lost all control of herself, twisting, bucking, and moaning on all fours in the woods as the bestial fucking in Vanessa's room replayed itself.
That same night Cleophas paid her a discreet visit in her room and used his own giant cock to again bring her to the heights of ecstasy. She was all past resisting his intentions, for she knew it would be easier – and more pleasant – to humor him and wait for the freedom she would have on after Sunday when the weekend in the mountains was finished. With Cleophas that night she allowed herself the luxury of responding to his hands, mouth, and penis, wrapping her arms and legs around him, kissing him hungrily, and urging him on with passionate words, allowing to slip – much to the surprise of them both – a few obscenities while his black cudgel shuttled back and forth wetly in her boiling pussy, and crying out joyously when his hot, white cream flooded her to overflowing.
Just one more day and she would no longer be at the mercy of all these dirty people who wanted to use her for their own pleasure and use their own positions of power, both business and physical, to subjugate her. Back in town, she would be her own woman, would do her job at the company so well, so efficiently, that she would be able to stand there on her own merits and not just as pleasure object for the executives. She would quietly melt into the background of the steno pool, never mention this shameful week in the mountains to the other girls, never discuss the things that went on, the things that happened, the things that she had allowed to be done to her. If she could stand to, she would go back to her life of sexual abstinence, a little wiser and more experienced, but would put all this behind her and try to forget it, hoping that some decent man could overlook what she had done and be a good husband to her and father children by her.
She had one regret however, one question mark in her mind, and that was Ron Wolter. Obviously he knew that she had slept with Herb several times, and also with Cleophas. Would he be able to forget that and would he somehow wish to continue and more normal relationship with her? If he would, she would be happy to grant him any sexual favors he desired. Indeed, that would be a joy to her as well.
But he had been avoiding her for the last two days, his face wearing a faintly hurt expression, his eyes never looking directly into hers. She knew he knew about the awful things – or at least some of them – that she had done, and it tore her up inside and filled her with shame, so that she couldn't find the courage to approach him and talk to him.
Sunday morning dawned, the last day of the time in the mountains, and it had been announced that it would not be a working day but rather an end of week party, a "wrap party", as they called them in Hollywood.
Cherie had a hearty breakfast in her room, brought by Tony, the young Italian servant, and then she dressed in her light chiffon dress that fell to just two inches above her shapely knees. Brushing her hair into a sweeping coiffure, she steeled herself to face the group of colleagues who were probably all talking about her escapades with Cleophas. It crossed her mind that, if Vanessa had been indiscreet, they would all know about her and Diablo as well, but she didn't worry too much about that for she trusted the older girl.
When she arrived in the conference room, she found the furniture completely changed. The great table was gone as were the chairs that had surrounded it, to be replaced by several large, comfortable-looking sofas and a large-screen television set. Bottles of champagne sat tantalizingly in buckets of ice and Tony was pouring the drinks and serving them as fast as he could.
A drink was thrust into Cherie's hand and she sipped at it while waiting for someone to speak to her. Presently Herb approached her.
"How are you this morning, darling?" he asked. "I hope you slept well."
"Until I woke up," she said vaguely, not remembering when Cleophas had arisen and walked quietly out of the room to go to his own.
"Are you ready to enjoy yourself, my darling?" Herb said, sliding his arm around her waist and sweeping her over to one of the couches to sit down beside him.
What was all this darling stuff? she asked herself. There was something about his mannerisms that caused her to distrust him. Docilely, she allowed herself to be seated close next to him and his arm encircled her shoulders. Everyone was laughing and talking, drinking and munching hors d'oeuvres. Cleophas was talking to an attentive Diane Layne again, the black man running his fingertips along the girls waist while she lightly rubbed her breast against his side. Ron Wolter was talking to Allison Cooper, and Sue Midori was talking to Sam Wilson, Vic Torres, and Morey Moore, the balding operative from public relations and advertising. There was another couple of men whom Cherie had never seen before, one old and white-haired who appeared to be near seventy, and another man who was grossly fat – over three hundred pounds, Cherie judged – with a totally bald, round head and a huge cigar sticking out of his face.
Cherie sipped her champagne quietly while Herb, his hand draped over her shoulder, gently fingered her breast. She didn't like his doing that in front of everyone, but it seemed that no one was really paying attention to them. All eyes glanced toward the TV screen when the movie started. It showed an actor whom Cherie had never seen before knocking on the door of a nice home and being answered by a stunning, big-breasted blonde in a short skirt, also an actress unknown to Cherie. From the way the two of them delivered their lines, Cherie could see why they were not well-known actors and that the film itself was a low-budget production.