textfiles/sex/EROTICA/P/prisoner.txt

                         "Prisoner of Love"

By PHIL PHANTOM

     I met Sharon in my junior year of high school.  She stole my
heart on first sight.  Intelligent, warm, frisky, fun-loving,
describes her personality.  She was the most beautiful girl I'd
ever seen in person.  She's petite, nicely-developed but without
big breasts.  Most women would kill for her hair.  It is long,
wavy, and always bouncy and full.  She swings her mane like a
sexy movie star.  Her legs could stop an express train.  She
doesn't walk, she flounces--almost a dance.  She's full of energy
and a passion for life.  She radiates positive vibes to everyone
around her.  Consequently, she's very popular.
     I knew my chances of winning her love were practically nil. 
Some call me a nerd, though I don't wear glasses or carry the
pencil and pen variety pack in my pocket.  I'm not physically
adept.  Sports hold no interest for me.  My one strong suit was
my intellect.  I applied that intellect to winning her heart.  I
wrote her anonymous love sonnets, put a white rose in her locker
everyday after spying her using her combination, and wrote her
passionate declarations of my love.  It took three months for me
to expose my identity to her, three more to get her to go out
with me, six more before she agreed to be my steady, and in the
middle of my Senior year, Sharon said yes to my proposal of
marriage.
     Early in my courtship, after telling her I wanted to marry
her, I swore an oath to remain a virgin until our wedding night. 
We were not going steady at the time.  She thought my pledge was
cute.  She then launched a discussion on what constitutes
virginity.  We came to the mutual conclusion that true virginity
was a triad of genital, anal, and oral virginity.  I told her I
was a total virgin and would remain so.  She told me she was a
total virgin, but said, "If we do get married, you might be the
only total virgin in our honeymoon suite."   She said it in a
playful, teasing way, but her words strung my ears.  I just never
thought of her as someone who could lie down with a man she
didn't love, or that she could love anyone but me.  I also felt
like kicking myself for making that stupid pledge. 
     I sweated out the months between my declaration and our
going steady.  Each time she went out on a date, I managed to
quiz her as to the state of her virginity, always in a delicate,
humorous way, but dead serious.  She didn't mind my queries, and
saw right through them.  Soon after that, after a date, she'd
come right out and say, "It's still there (meaning her hymen),"
or something licentious like, "He didn't even put a dent in it."  
She floored me one day by saying, "Boy, we sure had a close call
last night.  Thank god for pre-mature ejaculation."  Another
time, she told me she defended my precious hymen with a blow job,
sacrificing one third of her virginity.
     The day before she took my ring, she went out with Mark
Springer, our quarter-back.  I could not sleep all night.  I
called her at six in the morning, waking her to ask how she was. 
She groggily said, "You mean how is your hymen?  Can't you wait
until a decent hour, like noon?  I can assure you its status
won't change between now and then."
     My heart fell.  She heard it fall and said, "Relax.  It's
still there, damnit!  It took more than a blow job, though.  My
ass is still leaking at it hurts like hell.  I should make you
kiss it.  I did that for you, you know.  Look on the bright side;
I'm still a one-third virgin."
     What do you do when the love of your life tells you she
sucked and took in the ass the most desirable guy in the school,
for you.  I was so relieved, I said thanks.  She said, "You're
welcome.  Good bye!  [Click.]."  I was back on the line at noon,
begging her to go steady.  She took pity on me and accepted my
ring.  
     The next few months were the best of my life.  Sharon and I
were inseparable.  Our love blossomed.  We talked of marriage and
a life together, named our kids, and plotted our future.  When we
set a date--two years off--we made formal announcements.  My feet
never touched the ground.  I never touched her in a sexual way,
and she never offered any services to me.  We did, however, spend
hours kissing and holding each other.
     While we were dating, I never brought Sharon near my house. 
My house was a zoo, and my family--step family mostly--were
animals.  I lived in a run-down suburban home with my mother,
step-father, and four step brats, all boys ranging in age from
ten to fifteen.  My step-father, Bucky, drove a dump truck. 
Bucky treated me like a red-headed step child, though my hair is
blond.  I do all of the stepping and fetching; his kids don't do
anything except create work for my mother.  
     Bucky is one of the most vulgar men I've ever met, and I've
met a bunch.  My mother attracts that type like a dead squirrel
attracts flies.  Between marriages, Mom brought home some truly
skuzzy humanoids.  In truth, I was relieved when she married
Bucky.  Bucky may be vulgar, but he's not physically abusive.  He
loves my mother, though he treats her like trash.  I've known for
years that my mother feeds on abuse--physical or mental.  I've
lived through the bondage freaks, the slave scene, the orgy set,
and a few real perverts.  I've actually seen my mother gang
banged in my living room at the age of eleven.  I've had to feed
her and attend to her toilet while she was tied naked to a chair
for days on end.  I've sat in on photo sessions where Mom had to
pose with dildoes and other women.  Then, I had to live with the
humiliation when those photos--published in a porno magazine--got
circulated around school.  Thankfully, we moved away right after
that.
     So Bucky isn't so bad by comparison.  Crude and vulgar, I
can live with.  I hope he stays with Mom for the rest of her
life.  The only problem was Sharon.  No way did I want Sharon
exposed to Bucky and his brood.  It would be like placing a lamb
among wolves.  Therefor, I went to great lengths to keep her
away.  After our engagement, though, Sharon wanted to get to know
her new family.  She became adamant, even after I told her what
they were like.  I reluctantly consented, and managed to bring
her by when I knew Bucky was working or hunting.  I kept him from
seeing her for two months.  It wasn't long before I got pressure
from both Bucky and Sharon to bring her by so they could get
acquainted.  I fought this as long as I could.
     Sharon loved my family and they adored her.  She thinks it's
is neat the way my mom takes abuse from my step-brothers.  She
found it amusing that Bucky threw away all of Mom's underclothes
and makes her wear ridiculously shot skirts, tight sweaters, and
high heels.  Sharon laughs openly when one of them flips up Mom's
skirt or pinches her boobs.  I've seen her instigating abuse. 
Once, when we were on the sofa and Mom was cleaning the
fireplace, giving us an unintentional rear beaver shot, Sharon
leaned over and told little Kevin, "I dare you to go up and stick
your finger in her pussy."  He did and Sharon thought that was
the funniest thing she ever saw.  I think I was more shocked by
Sharon's vulgar term for the vagina.  Nothing foul could come
from Sharon.  In my mind, her shit came out in little perfumed
plastic capsules.
     The day I'd dreaded arrived.  Sharon was invited to dinner. 
I picked her up.  On seeing her, my mouth dropped open.  I never
saw her looking so sexy.  She wore a short dress with an open
bodice, high heels, and had been to the beauty parlor.  She wore
heavy make-up.  She looked like a Sunday school whore.  She could
not have picked a worse outfit to wear in front of Bucky, and I
begged her to reconsider jeans, tennis shoes, a sweat-shirt, and
no make-up.  She brushed me off with a simple, "Don't be silly."
     I was shitting razor blades all the way to my house.  Sharon
seemed quite calm.  When Bucky saw Sharon enter the house, his
eyes sprang out and he began salivating.  He took her in a big
bear hug, groping her ass with his greasy paws, welcoming her to
the family, astonished that I could get such a fine piece (his
words).  I wanted to die, but Sharon took the groping and the
hugs warmly.  Bucky turned her loose and stood back to admire her
body, telling her to turn slowly in place.  Sharon blushed,
smiling, and basking in the lewd attention.  Bucky said, "You
know what I like best about your legs, honey."
     I went pale.  I knew what was coming.  I knew Sharon would
freak out and leave, never to return.  I wanted to stop her from
answering.  Sharon smiled her cutsy smile and said, "No what?"
     "They got feet at one end and pussy at the other."
     Sharon laughed.  She didn't bat an eye.  She said, "We have
something in common all ready, because that's what I like about
them too."
     Her impulsive response had an immediate impact on Bucky.  He
held out his hand and said, "Sweety, if you're going to join this
family, then we have to have us a little private talk."
     Sharon cast me a curious look.  I tried to signal with my
expression, "No!  Don't go!"  She offered him her hand then
followed dutifully right into his bedroom.  Bucky slammed the
door shut, collapsing my world.  Mark, Bucky's oldest boy,
taunted, "Dad's going to fuck your little fiancee."  The four
boys dashed for the closed door and pressed their ears to it." 
Mom came over and held me, saying, "Now, now, you know what a
tease Bucky can be.  He's just making you think bad thoughts,
dear.  Don't get upset."
     The boys took delight in running in and giving updates,
like:  I heard a zipper; she's moaning; they're on the bed. 
After ten minutes, the updates weren't necessary.  We could hear
the squeaky bed springs and the banging of the headboard all
through the house.  I fell into a chair in a catatonic daze.  The
boys were merciless in their taunts.  Brian shouted, "It looks
like Dad added a new whore to the stable."  I wanted to kill him,
but all I could do was stare fire at him.
     They stayed in the bedroom for over an hour, and by the
sounds, had three sessions of intercourse.  Mom had the food on
the table, getting cold, waiting for Bucky to finish with my
love.  He emerged from the room moving Sharon ahead of him.  He
brought her before us, holding her by the shoulders like a
trophy--her bra and panty in his left hand.  Cum trails ran down
both her legs, clear to her high heels.  Her right shoulder strap
had been ripped apart and the flap of dress material kept sliding
off her right breast.  She caught it just in time each time it
threatened to uncover her nipple, but then stopped trying.  The
flap slid then flopped down, baring her right breast.  She looked
at me as if to say, "I tried, but I'll be dammed if I'm going to
hold it up all night."
     Bucky tossed the bra and panties at Mom, the panties landing
on her head.  He said, "She understands the house rules.  Throw
those damn things away."  He announced, "All right.  Listen up. 
We have a new member of our happy family.  I want you guys to
treat her with the same respect and consideration that you treat
my dear wife."
     This brought howls, cheers, clapping, and jumping joy to his
four delinquents.  I saw Sharon smile.  I could have crawled
under a sheet of paper.  Brian said, "Can we fuck her, Dad?"
     "Son, if she will part her pretty legs for you, you'd be a
damn fool not to."
     This brought another round of buffoonery.  He added, "That
don't mean you can just dog pile her and take it.  If you want
some pussy, you'll have to do it like gentlemen.  You talk her
into it like I had to.  You do it right, and she'll strip, lie
back, and put her knees in her arm pits without the first finger
being laid on her."
     Mark said, "Is that what she did?"
     "Ask her."
     Mark addressed Sharon.  She finally blushed and quietly
said, "Yes."
     Mark said, "Was she a virgin, Dad?"
     Bucky turned her back to us, pushed her shoulders down to
knee level, pulled the back of her skirt up over her creamy moons
and shot me through the heart.  There was my lady love's vagina,
in full view, gaping open obscenely, tainted red and smeared with
cum.  Bucky made her widen her stance, saying, "These boys have
never seen a fresh-fucked virgin before.  Give them a good look,
sweetlips.  I watched in horror as those four perverts gathered
at her ass and peered into her vagina.  What shocked me even more
was how easily Sharon accepted this treatment.  Far from being
traumatized, she had a sexual glow about her.  Despite my
anxiety, I couldn't help admiring her beauty.  Having never even
seen her tits, I at least had Bucky to thank for exposing all of
Sharon's hidden treasures.  I also figured that since she was no
longer a virgin, our sexual relationship could begin.
     Sharon sat through dinner with her right tit hanging out and
leaking Bucky's cum on her seat--a mess my mother had to clean
up.  The only topic of discussion was Sharon's performance.  She
sat quietly listening to them talk about her remarkable abilities
and attributes.  After the bizarre dinner, I felt as though I'd
been in the bedroom with them throughout.  I learned that Bucky
took her orally, anally, and vaginally.  That Sharon sucks a mean
cock, and does a trick with her sphincter that drives Bucky wild. 
He also informed us that her toes turn inward when you nibble on
her clit.  I made a mental note.
     Mark kept pressing for specifics on what to say and do to
get Sharon to spread her legs.  Bucky said, "I've always said,
'Treat a whore like a lady and a lady like a whore and you'll
never go wrong.'"
     "Yeah, but what is she, a whore or a lady?"
     Bucky leaned forward, got serious, and said, "Sharon is the
exception to the rule.  She's a whore that likes to be treated
like a whore.  If you boys want anything from this little slut,
you got to treat her like a whore.  She can't resist that
approach.  She told me that herself."
     Sharon peered at me while casually placing a fork of mashed
potatoes in her mouth.  She turned the fork head-on and sucked
the potatoes off.  I made another mental note.  We left shortly
thereafter.  Mom pinned Sharon's strap in place.  It troubled me
that Sharon did not bother to clean herself.  She sat on my new
seat covers, but I said nothing.  We drove in silence.  When I
drove past her turn off, headed in the direction of our favorite
makeout spot, she said nothing.  My cock leapt to attention; my
foot pressed harder on the accelerator.  I parked the car by the
lake and turned in the seat to face her.  Sharon turned her head
towards me.  I scooted over and took her in my arms.  We kissed. 
I grabbed her right breast and squeezed.  Sharon took it off,
leaned back and said, "What do you think you're doing?"
     My face burned with shame and confusion.  I said, "Sharon,
don't be mad at me.  I tried to warn you."
     "I'm not talking about that.  I'm talking about you grabbing
my breast like I was some cheap slut.  Is that what you think of
me now?"
     "No, of course not."
     "Do you think that just because I stripped off all my
clothes right after entering the bedroom, and climbed onto the
bed; that because I spread my legs and played with my vagina;
that I told him I was a virgin and wanted him to fuck my pussy; 
you think that makes me a whore?"
     "Well Sharon..."
     "I only did that because I knew that's what he wanted and
expected.  I only wanted to be accepted by the family.  And after
what you told me, I knew he'd just take it anyway.  I didn't want
that to tarnish our relationship, so I gave it willingly, so he
wouldn't carry any guilt.  I did that for us, and you call me a
whore."
     "I'm sorry, Sharon.  I never called you a whore, or even
thought it."
     "Do you think I enjoyed exposing my pussy to those boys,
your mother, and you?  Is that what you think?"
     "No, not at all.  It must have been terribly humiliating."
     "Do you think I enjoyed being talked about in the most
vulgar terms and having all my sexual secrets laid bare for
everyone to know.  Sure, I told him I wanted his boys to treat me
just like your mother.  I don't want special treatment.  Your
mother appreciates that, if her son doesn't"
     "But, Sharon.  That wasn't necessary.  My mother likes that
kind of treatment."
     "I suppose she's a whore, too?"
     "No, you're putting words in my mouth.  Sharon, I love you."
     "I don't want to discuss this anymore.  I need time to think
about our relationship.  Take me home."
     "Sharon, Ple..."
     "Take me home!"
     I started the car and eased onto the roadway.  All the way
to her house, I pleaded for forgiveness, rededicated my love and
respect, promised never to insult her modesty or impugn her
virtue, praised her for her sacrifices on our behalf, and thanked
her for placing the welfare of my family members above her own. 
As I turned into the driveway, I said, "Thank you for handling
Bucky the way you did.  That was smart.  He would have taken it
anyway."
     I put the car in park.  Sharon turned towards me on the seat
and said, "Do you really mean that?"
     "Yes, I do."
     "And how about me suggesting to Bucky that the boys treat me
like a whore."
     "I thought you asked him to be treated like mother?"
     "Same difference.  I may have said whore.  Well?"
     "Okay. Yes, I agree.  I don't like it, but now that I know
why you said it, I agree."
     "I don't know.  I'm not sure I trust you anymore."
     "Sharon.  I love you.  You know that!  You can trust me."
     "All right.  You heard Bucky tell the boys how to get me to
spread my legs, right?"
     "Yes."
     "And those boys expect me to put out, just by treating me
like a whore, Right?"
     "Well, yes, I suppose, but nothing says you have to."
     "And if I let Bucky, or Mark, but not the others, can't you
see where that will cause hard feelings."
     "Well, yes, but..."
     "No buts, you know it's true.  Face it.  From now on, I'm a
whore for Bucky, Mark, Brian, Stevie, and Kevin.  Can you deal
with that reality."
     "You'll never be a whore to me."
     "But I will and am a whore to them, don't you agree?  It's
all right.  It's the truth.  I won't get made if you say it.  I
want to hear you admit that I'm a whore."
     I was terribly confused, but one thing I knew--Sharon did
want me to call her a whore.  I said, "You're a whore, Sharon."
     She smiled and made me say it ten times.  She then said,
"But I'm not a whore to you.  To you, I'm a virgin princess."  I
nodded my weak understanding.  She went on, "That means I expect
to be treated no differently by you.  Between you and me, nothing
has changed.  And I'm holding you to your pledge.  If you can
accept those terms, I'll consider the wedding still on;
otherwise, I never want to see you again."
     This was like a splash of ice water.  I quickly said, "I can
accept those terms."
     "That means that you have to watch while your step-father
and your step-brothers enjoy what you must wait two years for."
     This was another splash in the face.  I nodded weakly.  She
smiled and said, "I'm not sure you fully understand.  Close your
eyes and imagine this scene.  We're sitting on the sofa, cuddled
up, watching TV.  Little Kevin crawls up, reaches under my skirt
and starts playing with my pussy.  I reach down and pull my skirt
up.  I lay my leg over your lap and lay my head into your
shoulder while he finger-fucks me.  And you look down at the
pussy you haven't even touched and see your brat brother in it to
his wrist.  Could you sit still for that?"
     The vision, oddly, had my cock standing tall.  I said I
could.  She went on, "Okay, later, Brian leans across you with
his dick in his hand, right in front of your face, and says,
'Suck my cock, bitch.'  I lean over and slide my mouth over it
and start sucking.  I'm sucking Brian's cock with my mouth right
next to yours.  In fact, his cock is under your nose and the
shaft is against your lips.  You don't pull away because you know
better.  You know it makes me angry when you don't let them
humiliate you.  Sometimes I pull off and press his cockhead
against your lips.  You open and suck him in.  I like to jack him
off in your mouth especially if your mother is watching.  I like
making him cum in your face, or on mine and having you lick it
off.  Can you see yourself doing those things?"
     Unbelievably, I was about to cum.  Breathing hard, I 
managed to say, "Yes."
     She said, "One day, Mark comes over and say's, 'Give me some
pussy, whore.'  I calmly get up.  I do a strip.  Mark lays me
over your lap so that my ass is over your crotch.  You see Mark
get between my widely-parted legs and center his cock at my hole
and shove.  You watch that hated cock take your lady's pussy and
can only imagine the exquisite feelings he's experiencing. 
Everybody gathers around to watch Mark fuck me.  I hold my feet
by the toes and beg Mark to pound my cunt.  They're all excited
because they know what happens after Mark cums.  After getting my
pussy pumped full of Mark's sperm, I jump up and stand on the
sofa cushions with my back to you.  Your head is laid back and I
get my cunt over your mouth.  You suck all the sperm, right from
my fresh-fucked snatch.  Your hands are dutifully at your sides,
because you still cant touch my pussy.  Only your lips and tongue
can touch my pussy, and that's only if there's sperm in it.  Can
you see yourself doing that?"
     I had my cock out and was masturbating.  Cum flew out and
peppered the headliner.  Sharon laughed and said, "I'll take that
as a yes."
     When my breathing returned to normal, I glanced sheepishly
at my love.  She was smiling.  She said, "Do you still want to
marry me?"
     I said, "Yes, god yes."
     "Good, then you have potential as a husband.  I can't go in
the house like this.  Take off your shirt so I can wipe my cunt." 
I handed her my shirt and watched her mop her crotch, wipe her
legs, and draw it up the crack of her ass.  She handed it back
and said, "Well, got to go.  Great dinner.  Thank everyone for
me.  See you in school.  Bye."  I put my soiled shirt back on and
drove home in a daze.  
     We were married as planned.  Sharon stood beside me at the
alter with five loads of cum drooling down her legs--none of
which was mine.  Bucky and the boys took turns with her in the
bridal chamber, wiped their dicks on her train, and sent her down
the aisle.  Things haven't changed much since, but I finally got
to make love to my lady.  That whore is one fine piece of ass,
and she has this thing she does with her sphincter.  What a gal!