Monique was softly moaning now with pleasure, under her, her breasts were hanging like oval balls, swinging with more or less violence according to the violence of the male's assault. They were all following on the mirror the evolution of the newest fornication. The movements of the member going in and out of the narrow sheath, like a piston, with a lubricated noise, was very exciting, as was its repeated disappearance into the depths of her belly.
Soon she moaned on a different tone of voice; so did the man. He was breathing hard, and each thrust was punctuated by hoarse gasping. Her buttocks were offered to the perforating tool, as Monique gave herself passionately. And pleasure was coming in her, flooding her whole body and soul. Her twisted mouth soon uttered the impatiently awaited sighs, the body shivered, quivered, the muscles of the legs tensed, and the buttocks seemed to open like a flower. The man, now brutally digging into her, was plunging his tool in her and glued his belly to the burning rotundities.
Soon it was his turn to sigh, and while the girl, convulsively twisting her bottom, exhaled her joy in a last cry, he spat his burning sperm into her ass, and glued to her, silent, motionless, tried to recover his balance.
He moved away from Monique's exhausted body, and she fell on the couch she could not care less about the humiliating posture she was in. In silence, they were all caressing her, and kissing her flesh, sucking at the burning buttocks. She only reacted when she felt an erected and burning phallus, pointing at her asshole. She wanted to resist and move away, but already Darcourt was taming her, like a wild mare, bending her forward, offering her bottom to the newcomer's prick.
“No no, not that. I do not want it. No! No! NO MORE.”
“Hush,” repeated Darcourt, “hush little girl, please realize that you are here only for a few and that you must receive the attentions from all the members of the Club.”
“Ooooh…” sighed the young girl, still struggling, trying by the movement of her ass to avoid the penetration of the prick. But she soon got tired, and also, once again a dim kind of desire came in her. Another weak protestation, and the man's belly was glued to her ass. His tool deeply impaled into her burning guts.
Once again, Sodom was the king. Once again she gave herself passionately, and once again in her burning belly, spurted the burning but appeasing gushes of hot sperm.
Darcourt saw that this time she was really dead. He gave his friends a sign, and they all started dressing. While he was caressing her, still blindfolded, in front of the mirror, or rather, on top of the mirror, she felt once again the cold contact of a nozzle in her burning and slimy anus.
“Drink, little girl, drink… That should ease your pains and relax you…”
And once again she felt the sparkling beverage spurt and babble in her, but it was soothing the fire that was burning in her.
Her belly inflated by the liquid, she left those men, still excited by that sight, and got dressed again. Led by Darcourt, she took the blindfold off her eyes only in the bathroom…
During the same week of her vacation, Monique went to three club meetings, receiving at each meeting, in her belly, the “attentions” of two “members”. Then once alone with Darcourt she gave herself to him. At the end of her vacation they all had the pleasure of coming in her. On the last evening she reserved herself for Darcourt, and they passed together some unforgettable hours of intense voluptuousness.
She came out of that evening with her whole flesh hurt by his flagellation. He had flagellated her breasts, her buttocks, and her cunt, and three times he had penetrated her anus.
She came back to the boarding school with a few little gifts and also some silky lingerie. She met again with the impatient Sylvie, and the evenings went by, with the usual share of greedy suckings by the juvenile mouths, and the caressing or painful evenings spent with Sylvie.
And Monique could not help thinking that during the eighty days that came before the vacations, she had received the more or less ardent attentions of erected pricks that had forced sixty-five times their way through the little puckered mouth hidden in the voluptuous slit.
Monique got up. She removed her sticky fingers from her sex, glued by the juices that resulted from her ardent masturbation. She took a lukewarm shower, and it appeased her hungry body. She looked at the time and decided that it was time for her to get dressed. She put on her a black silk slip, with lace embroideries, a little pleated skirt that came to her knees, a very tightened bodice that underlined the contours of her breasts, and she went to the living room.
Her young cousin Jacques soon met her there, and she had to defend herself against the energy of his precocious mind. Soon enough Sonia also arrived, and the guests followed. They were a middle aged couple, and out of fun, Monique tried to excite the man's desire and showed him large parts of her thighs by crossing her legs higher than necessary. She took a vicious pleasure in seeing him blush. She did not take much interest in the conversation, and was quite relieved when they finally decided to leave.
The evening finally came, and as Sonia was going out on her own, it was very easy for Monique to change, leave unnoticed and run to Darcourt's villa. She was dressed in the black velvet uniform of Mrs. Merval's boarding school. All wrapped in her black cape, she arrived without incident at her friend's house. She had carefully covered her face with a little black mask. She did not regret it, because as soon as she entered the room she could see that at least a dozen people were there. On the ground, the mirror was surrounded by a few electric bulbs, and that was the only light of the room.
Darcourt welcomed her in a whisper, and she guessed the man's passion for her. He brought her into the center of the circle of men, and she found herself placed on the mirror. Under her, everybody could see the reflection of her pulpy buttocks, and the whiteness of her thighs above the black silk-covered legs. The fair, felt-like pubis offered its voluptuous triangle beneath the flat stomach. Again, Monique was the prey of her desires like during the last Easter vacations. She closed her eyes while listening to Darcourt's voice whispering ardent and passionate words in her ear.
And they could all see, their eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, the beautiful compass of her legs slowly open and reveal completely the pink cunt with its slightly parted lips. Monique was listening to the men's excitement, heavy with desire. She could see through the openings in her mask the necks of all the men, bent over the mirror, encircling her displayed body. She let them contemplate her intimacy for a long while in its reflection, and then she closed her legs tightly. The heads raised up again…
And the rite of the champagne toast went along as usual. She offered to the men sitting on the cushions the usual biscuits on the glass, with the usual glance on her bottom. She sat on the transparent chair, and her belly drank the sparkling beverage. The liquid came in her. They were twelve, and more liquid was poured in the crystal vase. Her belly had to endure a bigger libation.
She found familiar emotions when she was again naked amongst them. When they were all naked together, her body twisted once more under the delicious torture of the cat o'nine tails. But this time she refused to be blindfolded to endure the penetration of Sodom. She wanted to see the phallus that would penetrate her for the first time that night. She asked to be sodomized only one time, and it took a severe correction to persuade her to accept the “attentions” of two members.
They imposed the bigger on her, and she was ready for the male's penetration. Then under the caresses of their tongues on the lips and love bud of her sex, looking through the tiny opening as if they could feel her virginity, she was satisfied, lying on her back, her legs thrust wide open…