Sunday Girl - a love story

The morning air is cool on my bare legs, the wheat stalks tickling my inner thighs as I walk to Cord and Marsha's house through their back field. I like the sensation of the hairy wheat tips stroking my soft skin, longer ones tapping lightly on my crotch as I move. The shorts sister Sally outgrew three years ago are snug on my bum, hugging my little cock and scrotum so tightly that if someone who didn't know me saw me wearing them they would think I was a girl. In a way, I am a girl - a Sunday Girl - and Marsha and Cord are going to make me feel like a girl the way they do every Sunday morning.

I'm clean inside and out. Yesterday morning I started taking little swallows from the large bottle of castor oil mama keeps in our medicine cabinet every couple hours. Before bed and after I was running to the bathroom to let my body purge itself of everything inside me. This morning I got up early, released everything that was left and had a bath. I didn't eat breakfast even though my stomach was growling, so now my belly is one long empty tube from my gullet to my bumhole. With nothing inside me I feel trembly and weak as I walk, but that adds to the wonderful feeling of being frail and vulnerable as I go to be Marsha and Cord's Sunday Girl. They're going to fill me up and nothing feels better than being hollow and empty and being filled up by someone who loves and desires you.

Monday through Saturday I scurry through the living hell of my life, only finding momentary release from it alone in my bed at night, thinking about my Sundays and spattering my belly with slime when I leak from the pale orgasms I have when I'm left on my own. My family, like all other farming families outside our little prairie town are Baptists and to them I am an abomination and will burn in hell for an eternity because of what their god made me. I only admitted my sin to my family out loud once when I was six years old and my daddy spanked me so hard and so long it felt like my bum cheeks were on fire. I cried all night and I never said it again. Not to them. Never to them. Only to Cord and Marsha and that was after Marsha guessed what I was and told me she was a safe person, and that Cord was a safe person and they wanted to play with me.

Marsha told me Cord noticed the way I looked at him and suspected I had a crush on him, and that was true, I did. I love Cord, I've loved him since I was in grade eight and he was in grade ten and I'd watch him playing baseball. And when Marsha told me he felt the same way about me I thought I was going to faint. And when she told me she wanted to help me let Cord fuck me I quivered and felt like I did just before I came when I played with my little cock in my bed at night.

The first time we did it was in their barn up in the loft. Marsha held my hand as I squirmed and cried out. It was exciting and it hurt deep inside me and I slimed all over my belly and that was glorious. But we almost got caught by their daddy, so Marsha came up with a plan; I would become a Sunday Girl for her and Cord.

"You lost your cherry today." she whispered to me as she walked me home, my bum still sore, "Now you can lose it every Sunday morning." and my belly ached for that feeling again.

We've done it a dozen times now, and each time still feels like the first time. It still hurts and I still slime and it is still glorious. This morning I feel like a virgin again as I walk toward their home and see their parents drive out of their dooryard in their old green sedan on their way to town and the church. And as I draw nearer to their house I feel my love for Marsha and Cord glowing in my chest and warming my heart.

Marsha is waiting for me, watching me through their kitchen window as I walk to her through the wheat, the morning sun making it look like I'm walking through a field of living gold, fresh and virginal and birthed from the sun. She is smiling. She always smiles on our Sundays.

Their daddy is tolerant of them not going to services and the luncheon at the church every Sunday. I had to complain to my family of being bullied by the other kids at school; kids who were at our church on Sundays. I told them those kids would pinch my bum and my crotch when no one was looking, even at church. I had to cry all the way to church each week to show them how scared I was. I had to sneak out and hide in the backseat of our car during the luncheon until my daddy relented and said I could stay home to save mama the upset. He knew that I was being bullied and blamed me for it. He had no sympathy for me; I was too skinny, too frail, too pale, and never played baseball or football. All through school I ran home with bloody noses and black eyes but would never tell him who did it to me because I knew it would only get worse. I am bullied always and I begged to have one day of peace each week, so they gave me my Sundays when they thought I wandered our farm and read my books while they went to services and the luncheon.

It's a lovely summer day, so the luncheon will be a picnic today, and after they ate, there would be games, so they wouldn't get home until it was time for mama to start supper.

Marsha opens the door for me and hugs me tight then walks me to her bedroom, promising me pleasure and excitement. First she paints my nails, then she does my lashes and my make-up. Marsha transforming me into her Sunday Girl is our first ritual.

When she is done, she lowers me to my knees beside her bed and takes off her pajama bottoms, then sits and spreads her legs wide. She pulls my face to her crotch, still sweaty and fragrant from her sleep and lays down on her back. I love her sex; so moist and musky. I love to lick the secret hollows of her, coating my tongue with her milky girl cum. I love the smells and tastes of her and wish I smelled and tasted exactly like her. And when she murmurs and I feel her sex pushing outward from inside, becoming full and ripe in my mouth, I seal my lips around it and suck hard as she begins to squirt and I begin to swallow. I reach up and press two fingers against her lower belly just above her mound and feel the firm lump of her swollen bladder, filled to bursting while she slept and held until I arrived. I swallow and swallow and swallow her hot hormonal water as she releases herself and I feel her bladder emptying and my stomach gurgling as it fills with the liquid I drink from her body. As she empties I feel her thighs quivering on either side of my face and she cries out and arches her back as she cums in long belly spasms. I stay with her, twirling my tongue in her hollow and avoiding her super-sensitive hard button, knowing if I lick it she will scream for me to stop.

When she is done and calm, Marsha sits up and lifts my face and kisses me long and deep, her tongue finding mine, tasting herself in my mouth.

"Oh, my sweet little whore." she whispers, "Thank you. Thank you."

Then she stands me up and peels the tight shorts down my legs and squeezes my bum.

"Let's go wake up Cord." she tells me, rising and taking my hand in hers, leading me down the hallway to Cord's bedroom. My stomach sloshes and my bare bum tingles as we walk. One more morning ritual and then they will deliver my bliss. It's the thing I live for all week; truly becoming their Sunday Girl. I know that without it I would have hanged myself in our barn by now.

Cord is laying on his back, his arms over his head like a halo, his legs tangled in the covers. Cord is so handsome, his face so sweet, his body so firm, his cock so delicious. I crave it, wanting to feel it inside me. Wanting him to feel me squirm like the first time, appreciating me like the first time, fucking me until he fills me like the first time. I know he will feel shame afterward and leave Marsha and I alone, but I forgive him for that. It's the close-minded world we live in where the 'loving Baptist god' turns everyone into hateful creatures.

Marsha gently pulls back the covers like she's opening a present for me and Cord's soft cock lays curled against his right thigh. I gently crawl onto the bed and take his cock into my mouth, tasting his night sweat, feeling the heat of his body in my mouth. Cord murmurs as I begin to suck and slide my tongue up and down the softness of him, pulling him to the back of my throat.

"Oh." Cord whispers softly, remembering it's Sunday, remembering his Sunday Girl is here.

"Oh." he sighs again and I feel him relax in my mouth and he begins to flow and I begin to swallow. I drink him down like he is feeding me like Marsha fed me, swallowing and swallowing, hearing my throat working, hearing the liquid squishing down my gullet, feeling my stomach plump and gurgle as it grows heavier.

Cord and Marsha are inside me now and I feel warm and sexual and so ready.

As I swallow him, I feel Marsha slide a greasy finger up the crease of my bum and I moan deep in my throat as she finds my hole. I relax my belly and she slides her slick finger inside me, greasing me, making me slippery and wet inside like a real girl.

I feel the weight of my stomach as I slowly rock back and forth against her finger, my stomach heavy inside me, a soft bloated ball moving like a pendulum within my belly. As Cord's flow tapers and stops, his cock begins to swell in my mouth and I whimper and feel my bum tighten as it always does when I know my bliss is about to begin. I grow so tight I push Marsha's finger out of me.

"Good girl." Marsha whispers and kisses the cheeks of my bum, "Such a good little slut."

Then Cord is gently lifting my face as he sits up, Marsha pushing my bum to the side to make me lay down on my back. She slides a pillow under my back as I settle, because I am so small and Cord is so big. Cord moves between my thighs and I smile at Marsha as I snake a hand between my legs and stroke the greasy valley of my bum. I touch the dimple of my bumhole and find it tight like it was the first time and I like that it's tight so Cord can force it open it once again. Cord lifts me and slides another pillow under the small of my back to line my bum up with his stiff cock.

"You need to be fucked deep and hard, little whore", Marsha tells me, "I want that little fucking ass stretched open for me. Mm-hmm."

Cord gently takes hold of my hips and lines me up and I feel his cock slide between the cheeks of my bum. I feel the thrill as the head of his hard cock presses against the impossible tightness of my bumhole. It's the same thrill as the first time, and I relish it, letting it flow through me, knowing that enduring the pain will bring the bliss I crave. Every Sunday it feels like the first time, and every Sunday it is raw and intense, and so wonderful. Marsha has seen my grimace and knows my fear.

"Feel that fuck doll. Yeah, it's gonna hurt, it's gonna hurt" Marsha tells me cheerfully as Cord presses against my little ring of muscle and I feel my poor bumhole stretching around his cock. And it does hurt and I cry out and grimace. My tight hole feels like it's being bruised, the pain piercing my belly's core right to my full sloshing stomach.

"Hold it in there. Get used to it." Marsha says.

"... hurts ..." I gasp, then feel Cord's cock slide deeper into me, filling my rectum, my body a sheath for his hard flesh.

"There you go. There you go. There you go." Marsha tries to soothe me, as Cord begins to move, pulling back and pushing deeper over and over. I feel myself loosening.

"There we go!" she says and I can hear the smile in her voice again; she wants my deep fucking to begin, and so do I.

"Pull your knees up." she tells me and laughs when I do, "Pull those asscheeks apart."

I pull the cheeks of my bum apart and Cord begins to fuck me deep and long. I'm still struggling to get to the place where my good feeling start; the place where my bliss lives, sleeping inside me.

"Daddy's got you." Marsha reminds me and I will myself to relax and let what feels like rape turn into the glorious pleasure I know it will become, "It's okay."

"Oh, just like that. That's the way I like it." Marsha says as the good feelings blossom inside me. The warmth of Cord fucking me spreading across my lower belly, filling my pelvic cradle like warm honey, the sac of my stomach filled with warm piss beginning to quiver.

"Nice and deep." Marsha coos, and I know she's feeling sexual as she watches Cord fuck me, her own excitement growing between her thighs once more, "Ooh." and I know she will need a second orgasm when this is over and I will give it to her because I love her.

As my body accepts Cord's cock deeper and deeper, it feels like my belly is filled with awakening snakes, squirming and writhing inside me.

"Hanging in well. Relax." Marsha encourages me as I am becoming overwhelmed by the growing sensations inside my belly, "Breathe whore. Good slut."

I love being called whore and slut. I feel like a whore, I feel like a slut, so proud of what I become every Sunday morning on Cord's bed.

"Going to make Daddy proud with that little fuck hole. Mm-hmm." Marsha coos and I wish she was stroking my body as Cord fucks me, but she never does, letting me lay with my thighs open, taking his cock all alone, "You need to be an anal fucking princess and take the biggest cock."

The squirming inside me is growing wild, like my belly is filled with slimy, writhing creatures. My stomach is quivering stronger now as well and with it the tension of anxiety that I may regurgitate everything I swallowed. It's happened before, and though it is orgasmic it made me ashamed to mess his bed.

"Daddy needs some satisfaction now." Marsha says, sensing that Cord is getting close to cumming inside me, "Good girl."

And I want his cum jetting into my belly, filling my bumhole, and I fantasize that I'm a real girl and he's about to put a baby inside me as waves of pleasure pulse through my core, bloating my belly with pleasure.

"Mm-hmm, fuck yeah." Marsha is excited too, I can smell her warm, wet sex between her bare thighs.

"Stick it all the way in you and go to your belly button. See how far we can get, huh?" Marsha says as Cord thrusts deeper and harder, "Breathe into it. Breathe into it."

I want it now. I want it so bad. This is the best part; the waves of pleasure spreading through my soft belly, pulsing stronger and stronger. This is a continuous orgasm for me, a girlgasm, a bellygasm, flooding my body like liquid heat, churned by Cord's rigid cock. The room starts to spin, the root of my soft little cock throbs sweetly. Cord wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes, making me feel vulnerable, making me feel like these may be my last moments. I surrender to him, I am his – his and Marsha's – as I lay on my back, my knees up, my thighs open like a little frog, his cock plunging into me unrestricted now by my loose and open bumhole.

"Super slut status. Super fucking slut status right there." Marsha says, excited.

And I am their little slut, their little slutty frog, and I'm cumming now, my entire belly cumming in waves of bliss that radiate outward from Cord's beautiful pumping cock, my insides writhing wildly, my stomach vibrating, my slime dripping from my soft cock onto my pale belly.

"Daddy's pleased with you. Leaking all over." Marsha says and I know she's watching my little cock spurting small droplets of cream as I await to swallow Cord's big one inside my belly, "You're leaking and you're stretched. Mm-hmm."

Then Cord is cumming inside my bum and it takes my breath away. I feel the head of his cock swell and throb and his cum gushing as it pulses into me, filling what little room is left in the bottom of my belly, making me his whore, his slut. Oh god, Cord and Marsha own me in these moments and I love being owned. If Cord decided to squeeze my throat harder and strangle me as his cock thrusts deep, filling me with his hot cum, I would die willing and happy, surrendering my small body into their hands to be carried, still dripping and leaking, and buried in some lonely hollow on their daddy's farm. I know if my body lay there in the warm soil they would visit and remember me forever.

"That's making Daddy ... very ... fucking ... happy." Marsha says as Cord spurts his last and pulls out of me, leaving me hollow and loose and wet. A used-up whore, happy and content. Cord swats my bum hard four times, tightening my bumhole up again so I can hold his cum inside me. He likes that it's inside me.

"Good girl." Marsha coos.

"Thank you, Marsha." I say softly, letting my thighs flop open, spent and warm and slumbering on the bed as Cord leaves the room.

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I'm in the bathroom now, kneeling on the floor, my face in the toilet bowl where Cord and Marsha pee. I need to purge, to rid my body of everything inside it so I don't take any evidence of being a Sunday Girl back home. My sister once found Cord's crusted cum in my underpants and told mama that I'd been masturbating and I once puked up all the piss I'd drank in front of mama and she was so horrified by how foul it smelled she took me to the doctor.

So now I swallow my fingers and wriggle them in my gullet, gagging, and retching, feeling my bloated stomach awaken and convulse. Between my thighs I feel my little cock growing stiff and its root start to tighten again.

I can hear Marsha outside the door, fingering her loose and sopping sex as her legs tremble. She likes to listen to this final ritual of her Sunday Girl as she gets close to her own orgasm and knowing she's right there listening arouses me even more.

I hear her lose her balance and her bum thumps against the closed door, then I hear her knuckles rattle against the door and can tell she's trembling.

"Yeah." I say, "I'm just puking."

"That feel good?" she asks.

"Yeah."

And it does feel good and with each retch and heave it feels better. Even though I leaked my way through a slow, warm girlgasm with Cord's cock plunging inside me, I know I have another orgasm, a boygasm lurking deep in my belly — a stronger one, short but intense like a little explosion in my crotch. It's building in the root of my little cock, starting to pulse and throb, making my cock twitch and dance between my pale thighs. It's all going to happen at once and I love losing of control of my body, so I push my fingers deeper down my gullet and wriggle them harder.

It starts with a single gush of their piss up my throat, their flavours blending in my watering mouth. Then another. Then a gurgling, straining release that spatters and splashes in the toilet bowl as the knot grows tight and hard at the root of my cock.

"Oh yeah." I grunt as feel it start and groan as my body curls forward.

"That's so fucking hot." Marsha says on the other side of the door.

I'm straining now, my hips curling, my bumhole gaping and spurting Cord's cum onto the floor, burbling out of my clenched belly. My body is emptying itself in a long orgasmic rush. First my stomach, then my bum, and now my little cock throbbing and pulsing my own cum onto the floor and I am helpless in these violent convulsions.

"Good girl." Marsha says when I'm done, when the sweet violence of my orgasm calms.

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I am at peace now. A peace I wish I could feel always. I am content and filled with love, and I get up on my knees and open the door to let Marsha back herself inside and brace a hand against the door-jamb, stepping her legs apart and lowering her bum to my mouth. I nuzzle my face between the cheeks of her bum and pleasure her as she masturbates. I lick and suck and twirl my tongue inside her musky bumhole, opening her like Cord opened me, feeling her juices dripping down my chin while she slaps three fingers into her sloppy wet sex as I dig deep into her belly with my tongue. Marsha shakes and quivers and cums long and hard — she is vulnerable and trusting me in these moments, and I love her for it. I love Marsha when she cums on my face like I love Cord when he cums in my belly.

I clean my mess off the floor as Marsha catches her breath and calms, then she completes my morning as I sit on the toilet seat. She removes the paint from my fingernails and washes the make-up off my face tenderly while showering me with kisses. She helps me pull on my sister's shorts, then holds me tight, telling me she loves me, and that Cord loves me.

I walk home through the field of wheat, carrying the fresh memory of being a Sunday Girl in my belly. Carrying my love for Marsha and Cord in my heart as I return to my life of hell; my life of lies and hiding, but knowing my next Sunday will soon be here. Comforted by knowing that if my Sundays ever stop, my final orgasm will be at the end of a noose hanging in our barn, my feet dancing in the air as my little cock spurts my slime and loving Cord and Marsha as I boygasm my way into eternal peace.