Then, momentarily mindless now with drug and aphrodisia and hypnotic suggestion, her body hopelessly consumed with the fires of lust, Sharon Court began to suck rhythmically up and down Mark Marlowe's burgeoning cock, swallowing more and more of his lust-hardened rod into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth, her tongue working with excruciating twirls at the almost-withdrawal from the warmth of her lips. She parted the glans eye with the tip of her probe, widening it so that more semen flowed forth against her tongue. Marlowe jerked his hips upward, driving his great cudgel deep and hard against the roof of Sharon's soft mouth. He was moaning in excited cadence now, staring down at her bobbing, twisting head, watching her large, resilient, beautifully formed tits dance and sway from her chest as she rode her mouth up and down his prick, the soft globes bouncing against his widely-splayed legs. He could see her lips clinging to the head of his cock on the upstroke of her head, and he could feel the pressure of his impending cum constricting his testicles almost painfully.
Suddenly, as she continued to suck the huge, driving cock in her mouth, Sharon Court began to experience a return of rationality. Some of the fog in her terribly drugged brain dissipated, and she realized where she was, what she was doing. And she was sick to her soul, even though she still seemed powerless to stop herself, to cast the hardened flesh from her lips and run screaming for help into the trackless moors. She was alone, she thought dimly, alone and trapped, at the mercy of two people whom she had considered friends but who had inexplicably turned on her, who were subjecting her to the most depraved of demands. Last night had not been a dream, and neither had today; she knew she had been drugged, somehow, knew it and yet still could not fight off the powerful effects. And her cunt still tingled with excitement at the lewd act she was performing.
Oh God, oh God, oh God! her tortured mind screamed. What's happening to me? And why? Oh Neal… Neal… you'll never forgive me if you find out about this! I'm a slut, a whore, to have allowed myself to become what I am at this moment, oooooohhhhhhhhh… God, darling!
But these thoughts were jumbled, strange, not at all cohesive. Even as she thought them, even as her brain reeled with torment and sickness, she continued to draw her mouth up and down the rock-hard cock of her host, Mark Marlowe, totally oblivious to her surroundings, to everything but the cock in her mouth and the carousel-like whirling of the images and fears and realizations crowding her brain.
She did not hear the library door open behind her, did not hear the soft thumping of a clubfoot as it was moved surreptitiously over the floor. She was not aware of the stunted, completely naked figure which slipped inside the room, closing the door silently behind it and then standing there staring with beady, lusting eyes at the carnal scene being enacted before the Inglenook fireplace.
The figure was Wafto, the deformed and hunch-backed dwarf.
And jutting up from his naked loins in full quivering erection was his immense thick cock — a cock which would destroy the last vestige of resistance of young Sharon Court in just a few more moments…
CHAPTER SIX
The dwarf was grinning obscenely, thin rivulets of drool running down along his chin to drop on his bare, shrunken chest. He stood with his spindly legs planted wide, his body tilted to counter-balance his one misshapen foot, his heavy paunched belly lying over his loins like some ugly, cream-colored slug. He was breathing hard and stared at the quivering, jerking moons of Sharon Court's helplessly flailing buttocks as she sucked Mark Marlowe's turgid cock. It gave Wafto a tremendous sense of power and satisfaction to see this, to see the proud American beauty groveling like a common whore before his master — as all women he wanted eventually did — and the still more humiliating experience of being tossed to Wafto for his own amusement.
The dwarf began to stroke his huge throbbing shaft lightly as he watched, drawing the foreskin back and forth slowly. He stared with mounting lust at the contortions, at the winking pink ring of her anus which he caught sight of now and then nestled in the moist crevice of her white, firmly rounded young buttocks. He could feel his great, hairy testicles distend and ache and his gnarled hand moved faster along his rigid penis — but not fast enough to cause him to ejaculate, for he wanted to save his hot thick sperm for the little blonde bitch. Still, he always managed to work himself up to a fever pitch by playing with himself just a little while as he watched one of the women suck his master, Lord Marlowe, or one of the other house guests, if that was how things worked out.
Sharon Court was sucking to please now, totally oblivious to anything except running her tongue wetly around the lubricated head and flicking the tip teasingly into the tiny open slit of the moist glans until she could feel it throb as though it had a heart beat of its own. Her whole mind was intent on sucking him dry, making his great penis erupt in a gushing fountain of hot male cum that would flow into her mouth and throat in a never-ending stream.
Her head bobbed up and down slavishly over the thick shaft of flesh, sucking to draw the milky seed from it until she destroyed Marlowe. Mark, having lost the suave and imperturbability of an English nobleman, groaned and twisted beneath her, raining obscenities at the top of her bobbing blonde head and watching with delight the oval shaped lips straining at his hardened cock-head as though it was a stick of candy fed teasingly to a starving child.
"God damn… God damn," he chanted, and then seeing his deformed servant at the door, he cried out, "Wafto! Just in time! I'm going… going to cum soon!"
Blinding realization hit the defiled young woman at that instant. Wafto! She heard a soft sound behind her, from the direction of the door, and sensed immediately the presence of the hunch-backed dwarf. Her eyes flew open and she tried to twist around to see if her most horrible fears were true, but Mark's gripping hands were wrapped tightly in her hair and stopped her from lifting her mouth from his glistening cock. She was imprisoned on his prick, and he levered up with his hips to drive his penis still deeper down her throat.
Behind her, Sharon heard more footfalls and then the high, nasal giggle that sent shivers of repulsion along her flesh. "Well, well, well!" the scratchy voice of Wafto chortled. "Look what you've captured, Master! A tender little girl, with a beautiful white ass! An ass all ripe for a cock like Wafto's to be shoved into it!"
The dwarf snickered again and the blonde wife realized with utter horror the implication of his words! In her mind's eye she pictured the squat, toady face and body of the crippled servant and she wanted to vomit; Lord Marlowe's cock in her mouth suddenly became huge and she nearly gagged, and she tried to squirm away. But she was unable to do so, held as she was by the massive hands of the man above her.
Oh God, no! Noooo! her tortured brain screamed. But then she felt hot, excited explosions of breath against her naked backside that made her skin crawl. Wafto played at her kneeling form like a sex-crazed fiend, running his hands hungrily over her milky soft flesh, twisting and squeezing it until small red welts appeared behind the path of his hands wherever they touched. Groaning in anticipation, the wetness of his rubbery lips dropped to her exposed back, slobbering a path along her spine that sent ripples of disgust running to the tips of her laboring breasts quivering under her kneeling body. They descended down toward the crevice of her buttocks which his thumbs were pressing wide apart, his fingers curling down and teasing in the wet slit of her vagina between the warm, hair-lined lips that now throbbed involuntarily in time to the cock fucking in and out of her mouth.