It's been said that every person has some dark passion within his soul-some hidden secret, desire, or whim that may never surface to be seen by even the closest confidante. Such a secret can be evil and sinister, or it may be trivial and trite.
In America, such passions are easily submerged and hidden by the complexities of everyday living. And often people are unaware of the dark passions which lie within themselves. Yet sometimes these passions are brought out where they cannot be ignored, and a person's life is changed.
Nanette Dolan is pretty, intelligent, and soon to be wed. Yet she feels vaguely dissatisfied, and cannot understand why. It is only when she meets, quite by accident, a strange and magnetic couple that she begins to understand herself and her true needs and desires.
BONDAGE SLAVE-a shocking story about a young woman coming to grips with her true self. The story of a woman whose life is changed by one night of degrading passion.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
"What are you worried about?" I asked. "Of course I'll be home in time for the wedding!"
Keith sounded very far away, and to be accurate, he was. About three hundred miles to be exact. "Well," he said, a tiny little voice in the telephone receiver, "I still don't see why you had to go gallivanting off. Not right now, anyway. I mean, we're going on a honeymoon, aren't we? Won't that satisfy your rambling urge?"
"Don't be silly," I sighed. "Humor me. I'm a woman about to make the biggest step of her life. Besides, I've always wanted to see rural New England. I may not get another chance, not if you take that job in Arizona." "I still wish-" "Wish upon a star," I said, "and when you do, make a wish for me, too. Now, darling, you'd better hang up. We've been talking for fifteen minutes and your phone bill will look like the national debt. And remember-you have to get up early and go to work in the morning. And I need my beauty sleep, so-" "All right, Nan. Goodnight and hurry home. God, I miss you!" He blew a kiss into the mouthpiece at his end, but it must have gotten caught in the telephone wires because I only heard the smack of his lips.
I hung up the phone and stretched. It had been a long day and I was dog tired. At least this motel room was graced by a supersoft bed, one into which I could sink and sink and sink, till sleep and dreams stole upon me . . . But first I had to take a bath. There's nothing like a bath to make me feel all soft and sexy.
I walked across the floor barefooted, stripping as I went. Off went the pullover top, thrown carelessly over my shoulder, and off went the lilac bra. Stopping just a moment, I unsnapped my slacks and wiggled them down my legs, kicking free when they'd fallen. By the time I reached the bathroom I was down to my panties-lilac, to match the bra-and I shucked out of them in the bathroom door, dropping them behind me as I went to the tub.
It wasn't a very big tub, but it was big enough for me and a lot of nice warm water, so I turned on the tap and let it fill while I pinned up my long hair. I couldn't resist the impulse to look at myself in the mirror, even though I knew so well the face I'd see looking back out at me.
"Take a good look," I said aloud, "because Nanette Dolan is a very endangered species. In not many more days, it will be Nanette Sirolla. And what will that mean?"
What, indeed?
The arrangements were all made, and in ten days I'd marry Keith Sirolla in a full-dress ceremony at Our Lady of the Sorrows Church back home in Susquehanna County. Yet here I was, camped out in a New York state motel room, three hundred miles from my fianc�. And tomorrow I'd get into my car and I'd drive as many more miles as I could before sundown, and why? It was like I was running away from him or something.
I scooped up my hair and pinned it high, and I looked at the face framed between the falls of wavy dark blonde. Not a bad face at all. High forehead, wide-set eyes of slightly almandine shape, a slender nose with a small, fetching bump partway down the bridge. Long upper lip curving down to a wide, generous mouth. A small firm chin, clean jawline, delicate ears that showed now because my hair was pulled up out of the way.
The rest of it? Well, I couldn't see the rest of it in the mirror. Only as far down as the base of my neck. I stepped back from the mirror and ran my palms down my chest, feeling before I looked to the firm, high-set cones of my tits. They're not big, but they're not tiny either, and the nipples are fat and red, like rosebuds just ready to bloom. I pressed my palms against those rosebuds and felt them spring up, felt them flower. The tips extended, warm where they touched my hands, and I kneaded my tits for a few moments, until they tingled and throbbed and I began to feel good all over. Almost good enough to settle into my bath and immerse my body in the warm bubbly water.
"Mmmm," I purred, hands sliding down me, past my slender waist, onto the prominent bones at my hips. Keith calls them "love handles." He says they were divinely designed so that a man could hold onto his woman when he was giving it to her. Maybe. Sometimes I wish that just once he'd-oh, not now!
My legs are long, perhaps a little bit-but only a little bit-too full in the thighs, and between my legs is a ripe swell of flesh, slitted up the middle, the edges of that slit mossed by a fine growth of dark hair, shimmers of gold interspersed amid the darker curls, making for what I consider a lovely mottled effect. As I moved toward the tub I closed my hand over that puffy hillock and squeezed it very gently. Mmmm, indeed! I felt really in the mood for a nice long soak in the tub and-well, maybe for something extra, too, just to reward myself for being such a good driver and tired girl.
I stepped into the tub and settled slowly, the steam rising around me from the very hot water. My skin felt as if it would scorch from the heat, but that was only a fringe benefit. For a moment I just lay there basking in the heat and wet, and then I unwrapped a tiny bar of soap, picked up a washcloth and began to do my face.
As I washed, I couldn't help wondering what I was doing here in this faraway motel room. For God's sake, I was to be married in ten days, and the man I was engaged to sounded as if he were worried half to death about me. I wasn't worried-I could take care of myself, I was a big girl-but what I didn't understand, not even in my own mind, was why I had packed a bag yesterday morning, gotten into my car, and started driving north, driving as if I meant to get as many miles between me and Susquehanna as I could before the sun went down.
Except for Keith, I didn't really have any obligations at home. I'd been working as receptionist for an elderly doctor who had retired at the end of summer and moved to Florida, so I was technically unemployed. No matter. Keith and I shared an apartment; even if I wasn't bringing in a paycheck I did more than my fair share of housekeeping. Besides, we'd already agreed that after our marriage I'd take at least a temporary layoff and settle down to being the kind of chick housewife you see on TV commercials.
But what about my obligations to Keith? We'd been living together for six months, been engaged and prepared for marriage for three of those months. Didn't I owe him more than the hasty explanation I'd given him-"Darling, I'm stir-crazy and if I don't get away for a little while you can come see me at the State Hospital for the Freaked-Out"?
I continued to soap and rinse myself, hands gliding lazily over my tits and shoulders, down onto my fluttering tummy, and I couldn't ignore the feeling of arousal that swept through me. God, I loved to fondle myself, to stroke my body until it thrilled with shaky quivers of passion, till every part of me was alive....
And as I began to massage my throbbing breasts-this time without the subterfuge of washcloth and soap, simply bare wet hands on bare wet skin and, oh, God! it felt good!-I closed my eyes and settled into the stimulating water and tried to think juicy erotic thoughts.
Like last night with Keith? The way he'd opened my legs and then opened my pussy and licked me like a darling little boy until I squished, all ready for the insertion of his hot prick? The way he'd slipped his cock into my hole, lowered his body onto mine, and clutched and kissed at me as we fucked back and forth, my legs enfolding him as my pussy enfolded his penis? The way he'd finally spurted, deep in my sex tube, the hot juice of his orgasm shooting up, up, up, into the furthest reaches of my body, my snatch squeegee-slopping on his exploding dick?
Oh, Christ! I cupped my tits and squeezed them together, bending my head down so I could kiss the pale white curves, wishing that my boobs were larger so that I could also lick and suck my own nipples, just the way Keith liked to suck and lick them- The nipples were redder than normal and the tips thrust out boldly, saucily, so responsive. My fingers pinched at those fat, outstanding nips and I felt the pleasure centers of my entire body begin to loosen up, to take part in the action. That was always a good sign. A very good sign.
My fingers dug into the soft spongy flesh of my tits, dug forcefully, squeezed and clawed until red streaks appeared in the skin. And then I dug a little harder, pinching now, mauling, abusing the tender trusting flesh, clutching myself until the breath leaked from my throat in a tight rasping moan.
"GGGGHHHH!!" I groaned, head thrown back, eyes shut tightly. "GGGGGHHHH!!!" I moved my hands about, just a little, and the piercing, erected nipples seemed to slip into place, right between thumb and index finger. I brought those fingers together upon the sensitive protuberant teats and I squeezed until tears flooded my sealed eyes and leaked through the clenched lids. "Ohhhh . . . Goddddd . . . yes! yes! yes!" I moaned, moaned over and over and over, rocking about in the sloshy bathwater.
Keith never touched me that way. His hands were so gentle, his lips as well. He'd never clawed my breasts the way an animal might claw them; he'd never taken my nipples into his mouth and chewed and bitten until I screamed and screamed -and creamed and creamed-the way I was starting to cream right now, my pussy becoming noticeably wetter even though it was sunk in warm soapy water.
I cupped my breasts harder, lifted them a little higher, bent my head forward. Straining as best I could, I could still do no better than flick my tongue (at its fullest extension)
across the tip of each straining nipple, and so I flicked and flicked and flicked, whipping my nipple as if my tongue were a cat-o'-nine tails and the nipple a bound, helpless victim. I wanted to bite them and chew them, to grind them between my teeth until those tender, delicate little rosebuds were raw, abused stubs of gnawed flesh.
I leaned back in the tub, spreading my legs so that hot water might seep even slightly into my opening cunt, and it felt so good that I took one hand away from my boobs and thrust it down, beneath the surface of the bathwater. I touched the insides of my legs, rubbing a finger along the curved inner surfaces where even the slightest pressure is enough to drive me crazy with desire, but as I dragged that finger on its way I let the nail take charge. Up my thigh, lightly across the puffy, wet-haired swell of my snatch, and then down the other thighs, scratching its way toward the knee of that leg. Nerve endings seemed to ripple and explode as I stroked across them, and my ass quivered and wiggled on the bottom of the tub.
For a moment I tickled softly the lower reaches of that white-fleshed thigh I'd just been stroking, tickled until I moved impulsively in the water, and then my hand shot back, toward the core of my cunt. I slammed the Cat of my hand onto my cunt, covering it, squeezing vigorously, squeezing cruelly, the fingers sliding up and down on the slightly parted lips of the pussy, feeling them yield to the pressure, opening, opening further, so that the backs of my fingers rubbed across the more sensitive vulva itself, and then I just couldn't wait! I slacked the pressure on my twat, spread the lips wide with thumb and ring finger, and drove index and middle straight toward the hole itself, piercing its ring of accommodating tissue. I stabbed deeply into myself with those stiff, quivering fingers, and as they slammed home my ass lifted from the bottom of. the tub, lifted directly toward the oncoming attack, swallowed them to the fucking hilt then closed as if I didn't intend to let go. Maybe I didn't.
My pussy began to contract in rapid gulping swallows around my fingers, sucking them up, up, up, making me wince as they reamed into me, spreading by force the tight snug lips of my twat, and I really started rocking in the bathwater. Lucky it wasn't high enough to slosh over the sides of the tub and make a mess on the floor, but no matter-where I was sitting resembled the center of a storm at sea, waves rolling, and me churning about in the midst of everything, my body heating so fast it's a wonder the water didn't start boiling all around me and scald me in steam.
It's a funny thing about pussies. Like everyone says, they'll stretch a mile before they'll tear an inch, and mine was stretching. Not a mile, perhaps, but widely-so widely I could have taken Big John Holmes and maybe even another stud the same penile size. My fingers were in me to the hilt, and part of my hand was starting to slip in as well. Up above, my other hand was really giving hell to my tits, bouncing from one to the other in turnabout alternation, stopping only long enough to massage the soft flesh with hard cruel fingertips, only long enough to pinch the nipples the way a farmer might with a cow whose milk seems unwilling to flow. God, if I could have squirted milk, the bathtub would have been full of it! My tits throbbed and the nipples jutted in stiffer, rosier erections each time my pinching fingers pulled them. They responded to my jerks and tugs as if they were made of rubber, but oh, Jesus, rubber never tingled and ached the way my nipples did then!
"Fuck it baby," I moaned, slamming fingers into my pussy pie, the digital tips roaming round inside, tickling the inner lining of my cuntal sheath, deep inside, where it felt so fantastically gooooooodddddd!!! I kept crooking and uncrooking my fingers, stretching them, feeling them extend toward the mouth of my uterus which was so close-I could feel how close, God, how I could feel it!-but just out of reach, too, no matter how my fingers struggled and quested up the chute of my twat. I rocked harder in the water, and stray splashes came up to bathe the ends of my titties in little hot sprays.
I leaned forward, hunching myself into a fuck-starved ball in the water, and stray splashes came up to bathe the ends of my titties in little hot sprays.
I leaned forward, hunching myself into a fuck-starved ball in the water, and I centered all my attention on the hole between my legs. My thighs curled in to press the cunny-digging hand from each side, and I lifted my ass from the bottom of the tub as I collected it all for the big push, the one that would take me over the top.
"Now, baby, now!!"
I pulled my fingers almost out of my cunt, till only the tips were still inside me, the beautiful, quivering, ticklish tips of my fingers, and I thought, Keith Sirolla, why can't you give it to me this way, damn you? You and your big hard cock-don't you know that a woman needs more than Leslie Howard? Sometimes she's gotta have Clark Gable!!!
And with that I began to fuck myself, hard, furious, no mercy shown or asked, the way I'd always wanted to be fucked, the way I'd never been fucked except by my own hands.
My fingers thrust in like demonic angels, stabbing into the tightness of my pussy, plumbing me to my depths, making me wail and moan each time they hit me where I fucking lived. My tits slapped the water as I bobbed up and down, accepting those wicked, wicked, wicked masturbatory inserts, and a current of ferocious hand action rippled through the water like t passage of a shark.
A shark. I needed a shark. Instead, I had a pussycat. I'd been living with him for six months, I'd marry him in ten days, and he loved me, and I thought I loved him too, and when we made love he was as gentle as a Valentine card, and if I didn't come in time he'd slip his finger into my snatch, sloshing up through the cum he'd spilled in me, and he'd stroke me and fondle me and do everything to make sure that I crested too, that I closed my eyes and shuddered and moaned with the release of my tingly clitoris.
So why did I feel the need to do what I was doing now? Why did I have to maul my tits, virtually rape myself by hand, in order to get the ultimate kind of satisfaction? Most women found their men too rough and self-centered. "As long as I get my rocks off, baby, the fuckin' hell with you!" That's what I heard dozens of times in dorm bull sessions when I was at college. All my girlfriends bitching because their men preferred to climb on, get their jollies, and climb off. I guess they all wanted a Leslie Howard-someone gentle and kind and considerate-someone who'd ensure that they received more than their fair share of the pleasure.
Well, damn it, who needed an oaf, anyway? A man who thought with his cock, whose only interest was in spilling his cum up a girl's chute-any girl, any chute? I certainly didn't. But what about a man of spirit? A man with personality in his dong-vivid, forceful personality? A man who could . . who could . ..
I was thrusting harder now, really driving those fingers up into me, and my body was slamming down to meet them better than halfway, slamming down to greet them, to suck them up, to massage them with the furious contractions of a pussy that got closer to nirvana with each convulsive upstroke of fingers.
"God, Jesus," I moaned, clutching the side of the tub with my free hand. Water was really sloshing now, and my face kept sinking closer and closer to the water, and I wondered idly if I'd come or drown first. Did it matter? I wanted to drown in my come, to feel the hot milky juice oozing from me, thicker than the water in which I jerked off, searing cream that coated my fingers, blistered them with its passionate intensity. Blistered me, too-boiled my guts-made my clit swell like a ripe pimple-made my labia tingle and quiver and grow gut-shakingly fat and wet-oh, God, I wanted to give it to myself! It didn't look as if anyone else were going to!
And I gave it to myself, by God! I slammed those fingers in and out of my pussy until the soft resilient walls collapsed upon them and my entire being seemed to be pouring out the wet, exploding mouth of my snatch and I flopped into the water, splashing up all around me. I sucked in a couple of mouthfuls of the stuff as I whimpered and moaned and groaned in the onrush of my come, but it was a beautiful come and my guts ached with the release and the ecstasy.
"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus," I panted, over and over, feeling my pussy ripple and contract around my fingers, until the pleasure subsided and was gone with the wind and the snows of yesteryear. Oh, what the hell did I care? As I sat up in the tub and shook my head from side to side, my guts were still churning and the lips of my twat so tingly and sensitive that even the gentle lapping of water against them made me shiver all over.
"Why," I said aloud, "are you getting married to a man who can't ring your bells as sweetly as you can ring them for yourself, Nanette Dolan?"
"Because I LOVE HIM!" I answered myself, voice climbing in pitch on the last couple of words. "Because I love him."
"Do you?" the other me wondered casually. "Do you?"
"Of course I do. Why shouldn't I?"
"Why should you, if he can't ring your bells the way you just rang them for yourself, Nanette?"
"Oh, fuck off!" I snapped, standing up in the bathtub. My knees were still weak and my pussy tingled from the energy that had shot through it at the moment of my climax. I touched the area between my legs, found it wet from the bath and sticky from my girl-cum. Oh, God, was it sticky! I rubbed that stickiness, worked it into my hair and flesh, rubbed till my pussy ached all the more and I swayed on my feet. Christ! Where was the towel? I needed to dry off and settle into my bunk for the night.
When I was dry, I left the bathroom, walking past the clothes I'd dropped on my way in. I turned down the sheets and settled into the bed, stretching in luxurious nudity between the squeaky-clean bed linen, massaging my body on that fresh-washed fabric until my eyelids grew heavy and sleep stole upon me like a thief in the night
CHAPTER TWO
After breakfast the next morning I got into my car and started driving, north again, and each mile that rolled past the wheels of my Mustang seemed to make me just a little happier, just a little brighter. I had the radio on and I was singing along with the Andrea True Connection, wondering why I felt so good?
I looked out the window and saw only rural New England. Farms, granite hills in the distance covered with fine stands of timber, .scenes that needed only snow to give them the Currier and Ives look. A few words of Robert Frost came to me,
and I spoke them aloud. "Miles to go before I sleep." But wasn't there a rhyming phrase that went along with those words? Something about "promises to keep"? And didn't I have promises to keep as well? Promises to Keith ... to myself... to...
"Why in the name of God am I getting married?" I said aloud, clutching hard at the steering wheel. "Why?"
And I didn't know. Not really.
Oh, sure, Keith had said a thousand times that he loved me, loved me with all his heart and soul, and I suppose he really did. He treated me like a fragile flower, so delicate, so tender, as if he were afraid of crushing my dainty petals. In bed he was the perfect gentleman, the Ashley Wilkes of every girl's Scarlett O'Hara fantasies. He opened doors for me, he lit my cigarettes, he brought me flowers for no reason. We'd been living together for so long that I knew him almost as well as I knew myself. If I married Keith Sirolla he'd put me on a pedestal and love me and cherish me and . . .
Of course there were other factors, too. For one thing, he was planning to run for State Assembly next election and the voters of Susquehanna County might not approve of a state legislator living in sin with a woman. If he married me, his opponent wouldn't be able to bring it up. But Keith had been talking about marriage before he got political ambitions. In fact, he'd proposed the second time we went out, weeks before I moved in with him. So it was more than the need to be Mr.
Politically/Personally Clean. And finally I'd given in, set the date, picked out a wedding dress, sent out invitations, the whole traditional shtick. So why was I in my car, driving sixty miles an hour whenever the roads would permit, putting as many miles as possible between me and Keith, between me and the church where we'd be married in nine more days, between me and the life that hovered so closely upon my tail?
"Oh, damn it, I don't want to think! I want to drive!" I said, and drive I did, tromping down the gas, making the car roar like a rampant lion.
I had lunch in Vermont, then crossed the line into New Hampshire, just driving, listening to the radio, filling the car ashtray with lipstick-smeared cigarette butts. God, I thought, if only the road could go on forever, turning and twisting so that might never find my way back to Pennsylvania Surely there was more to life than sweetness and doglike devotion! My guts ached to find out, and didn't know how to go about it.
I had blossomed at thirteen, little apple tits sprouting on my chest, a soft fuzzy down appearing on my suddenly puffier cunt, my hips flaring out into a woman's shape. That's probably average, or perhaps just a little later than average the way girl-children mature nowadays. My mother told me once that she didn't menstruate until she was sixteen, but things have changed a lot in the thirty years since then. It probably had something to do with all the post-Hiroshima fallout in the air.
When I was sixteen I fell in love for the first time, with the boy who played center on our high-school football team. It took him a couple of months to notice me, but we started going out and, after a reasonable length of time, after a hell of a lot of preliminary fooling around, I finally swallowed my fears, took down my panties, and let him fuck me. It was on our living room couch, while my parents were at an American Legion New Year's party. Mark and I were both a little tight on the bourbon we'd sneaked out of Daddy's liquor cabinet, and we'd been getting progressively bolder as the evening drew on.
I had my sweater off and my bra around my waist. For some time we'd been rather free above the waist and I hate to think how many cool early winter nights we spent at the drive-in, me half naked, Mark warming me with his mouth on my nipples.
Lately, things had advanced considerably. I'd been slow to actually touch Mark's bare hard cock, though rubbing it through the protective layer of his pants hadn't bothered me. But as we sat there on the couch, not even pretending to listen to the records playing in the background, I was fisting his fat dick and he'd slid a hand up my skirt, fingers scooting past the lacy trim of my panties, onto the swell of my (by now) nicely haired cunt itself. God, sometimes I can still feel the way he used to touch me there, the first strange hand that had ever caressed my pussy! It was ten years ago, but if I close my eyes and remember, the same little electric shocks of forbidden delight shoot through me and I can feel moisture beading just inside the mouth of my twat, the way it did then.
"Please, Nan," he whispered, breathing bourbon into my face, and I giggled, as if the smell from his breath was making me even drunker than I was already. There was a warmth in my tummy from the liquor, and an even stronger kind of warmth around the flanges of my twat, which had nothing to do with the booze we'd been drinking surreptitiously.
"Please," he whispered again, nuzzling my ear. "Can't you feel how much I want you? It's there in your hand. Squeeze it. Oh, God, squeeze it!" And he reached down to cover my hand with his own, fitting me even tighter round the ferociously upstanding pole of his cock. Big veins stood out up and down the otherwise smooth, solid surface of him, and I could feel hot blood pulsing through those large veins as I touched him.
We'd been increasing the intensity of our relationship, as I mentioned, and I knew, by now, the delight of making that cock jerk and shoot off its thick milky overflow of cum. Once or twice I'd even licked his prick's huge purple knob as the semen rolled across the rubbery-textured flesh, so that I knew the taste as well. And now, as I looked into his eyes, looked down at his pecker, I could feel that taste, strong and pungent on the tip of my tongue. I licked my lips, thinking, wondering. Should I? Could I? What if I got pregnant? What if Mom found out? What if. . . what if. . .
"Oh, Mark," I husked, uncertain.
He slipped his fingers deeper into my panties, scraping them back and forth on the lips of my pussy, and the tip of one seemed to slink inside me with a roguish insistence. It quivered there, caught snugly within the virginal labia, and its tip poked at the oozing mouth of my vagina. Oozing? I felt as if I were pissing myself, right there, all over his finger. I could even hear the squish as he toyed with my swampy cooze.
"Promise you won't make me pregnant? Promise?"
He nodded gravely. "I've got a rubber, Nan. I'll use it. You won't get pregnant, I promise."
I sighed, wondering still if I should do it. But how could I think rationally, with his cock throbbing and pulsating in my clutching fist, with his finger sly and snaky in the gate of my cunt? Oh, I wanted it! I'd wanted it since the first time I ever saw him! But now, when we had the time and the place and a whole evening to consummate the act, could I do it? Mark probed a little more earnestly, and I felt the end of his finger push into the wet mouth of my sex.
"God," I sighed, beginning to lie back on the couch, "God, yes . . . yes . . . yesssss ..." He was already pulling down my panties, and his breath came from his lips in husky gasps as he rolled my skirt up, out of the way.
Mark was so horny for me he didn't have time to do more than remove his pants. I watched as he slipped out of them, then tucked up the tail of his sweater, and the sight of his marvelous cock, my first cock, jutting imperiously from a bush of dark curling hair with two heavy balls dangling below, was indeed, breathtaking. I looked at him, then began to rub my wet slice, wondering if I was doing the right thing, hoping I wouldn't be caught, curious above all else as to how that big pecker could ever fit into my tiny hole, the hole that felt so excruciatingly tight and snug whenever I tried to ply it with my fingers.
Mark helped me sit up as he took the condom from his wallet. It looked like a rubber ring with a latex seal, for at the time I didn't know that it was still rolled up. All I could think of was, how will that keep me from getting pregnant? Mark spat on one palm and started to rub drool onto his cock. "To lubricate me," he said, "so the rubber doesn't chafe my skin." His eyebrows lifted imploringly. "Would you do it for me, Nan? Suck me till I'm all wet and juicy?"
I'd kissed his cock, and I'd licked it, but I'd never really taken it into my mouth before. For a moment I was going to refuse, but then it occurred to me that we'd already agreed he could fuck me. Was this so much different? And if licking and kissing hadn't hurt me, probably sucking wouldn't either. "Okay," I said bravely, and he leaned toward me, cock presenting itself as a big red-tipped target for my lips.
I took him in hand, petting up and down, cupping his nuts in the palm of my fist, squeezing them from time to time, and I began to lick up the underside of his shaft, still a little tense about actually sucking it. Mark's knob was sticky-wet already, and my tongue scooped up some of that tangy wetness. The taste thrilled me and I found myself opening my mouth, ovaling a haven for his dong, steering him into that resting place.
"Oh, suck me, Nan," he groaned as I began to suck. "Really suck me!!" He reared back as I took him in, and his cock seemed to fill my mouth suddenly, almost choking me. I felt my face turn red, felt my cheeks puff out, felt my jaws begin to ache with the strain of fitting round him, but it wasn't bad at all. I wondered how it would be if he started fucking in and out of my mouth, the way he'd soon be doing in my pussy, wondered how it would feel for his cock to gush suddenly in my mouth (the way it had done so many times in my hand), for all that hot sticky jism to roll down my throat as I gulped and swallowed and drank his essences like a pecker gourmet. My head started to move up and down and I was dripping saliva all down the shaft of his dick. I twisted from side to side as I sucked him, knowing instinctively that it heightened his pleasure as much as it heightened mine to feel him frictioning my wet lips, and then he was grabbing at my head saying "Wait a minute, Nan-not so hard-not so fast-" I moaned as he pulled his cock from my mouth, and I couldn't keep a hand from reaching up to caress the spit-frothy hardness of him, the hardened organ that would soon-oh, God, soon-be sliding into my pussy.
Mark put the latex on the tip of his prick and started to roll the ring down his sides, and then I saw just how much rubber really was contained in the condom. It covered him from knob to base, with a small nipple-like extension at the tip. The rubber was gray-tinted, the bright ruddiness of Mark's erected cock showing through. I stroked him again, when he was covered in his defensive armor, and he smiled down at me. "Now would you wet the outside of the rubber for me?"
Would I? I grinned and once again that big cock slipped into my mouth and I sucked it avidly, not minding at all the rubbery taste that enfolded him. I could still remember the hot salty flesh tang I'd tasted before, the sample of cum that had delighted my tongue when I licked him, and it seemed that I was tasting it all again, so ripe and delicious ... Again he had to pry his dick from my mouth, and Mark could not repress the gleam of delight on his face. We'd been going out for a couple of months and he was about to score. Oh, Jesus, my face was flushed, and so were my tits, the nipples standing up like flagpoles. There was a moist sheen of lubricant oozing from the lips of my pussy, coating them where they'd grown almost untouchably tender in the last ten or fifteen minutes, and I'm pretty sure my eyes were gleaming just as much as his.
The girls at school used to talk about fucking a lot, in study hall, in the shower rooms after gym class, in smoke sessions just outside the school sessions just outside the school grounds, but only a couple of them had actually tried it. We lived in a small town and ten years ago you had to be careful about your reputation. Not any more. Last time I was home, a year or two ago, for my kid sister's high-school graduation, the valedictorian of the senior class was unmarried and, to judge from the size of her belly, about thirteen months pregnant. Yet, the way people talked, she was such a nice girl that, next to her, Doris Day looked like a streetwalker. I guess I was just born a few years too early.
Anyway, we'd all talked about screwing, and now it was going to happen to me, and I suppose I got a little scared when Mark spread my legs and petted my cunt and started to move in toward me with his condom-wrapped cock sticking out. My spittle gleamed on the rubber coating, and the flesh of him strained at the prophylactic, as if he'd suddenly engorged even more and was now too big to be contained. Oh, Jesus, I thought, he's going to put that thing in me!
"Hey, relax," he said, running his hands up and down my thighs. "I've done this a lot of times."
"A lot of times?" I said, suddenly heartbroken. "With who?" Even then, worked up as I was, I had time to be jealous. I guess it's a woman's prerogative.
He flushed, and I suppose he realized that he'd spoken too soon. "Well, not a lot of times, maybe, and never with anybody I liked as much as I like you, Nanette. Honest."
Young girls are easy to convince. I was certainly convinced, and at that particular point in time, I was simply drooling with love for Mark. "Okay," I told him, "but please don't let it hurt."
He lay down upon me, kinda heavy and clumsy. Today, ten years later, I suspect that he was as cherry as I was. "Ooooh," I said, "you're crushing me." He lifted up at once, propping himself with one arm, reaching in with the other to take hold of his cock and rub its latex-covered tip on the flanges of my pussy. Despite my inexperience and tendency to be afraid, I felt myself arching toward him, my slit opening just a little as he tickled it, and I whispered, "Oh, Mark, it doesn't hurt yet! Do some more!"
"Yeah," he panted, and with that he pressed himself against me, straining to penetrate the resistant ring of my snatch. It began to hurt, more than a little, but I already knew that a first fuck would hurt somewhat. For a moment I hesitated, wondering if this was the time or place to be surrendering my virginity. Shouldn't I wait till I was married, go to my honeymoon bed a bride unspotted? Good girls did that. At least everyone said good girls did that.
But my pussy just kept getting wetter and wetter, the more he rubbed it, the more he stroked it with his rubber-clad pecker, and the little empty nipple at the peak of him slid lazily across the nub of my clitoris. Hot sparks emanated from my love button and I felt squishy wet everywhere-not just around the lips of my twat-and I sucked in my breath. Nothing had ever made me feel quite that way. Not masturbation, not even the nights with Mark at the drive-in theater when my panties would be sopping with girl-cream. "Oh, Jesus," I gasped, "oh, Jesus, don't stop!"
"I can't stop," he sighed back, "I can't stop now!" and with that he was lunging at me with his cock, trying his god-damnedest to bury the big hard thing in my cunt. Again and again he rammed at me, his dick head parting my cuntal flanges, wedging its big rubbery knob between them, stabbing impotently at the resistant tightness beyond. I worked with him, for despite the shudders of pain from his roughness, I wanted him in me, wanted him there so badly . ..
"Loosen up, huh, Nanette?" he implored. "Let me put it in you?"
"Oh, please put it in me,' I replied, rubbing at Ms legs with my thighs, my fingers dancing up and down his back. I slipped one leg around him, and it must have opened up my snatch just a little more-just enough, it seemed, because as I moved my leg, Mark moved with his cock, and suddenly he was actually in me, perhaps an inch of his rubber-coated tool actually inserted in my virginal pussy.
"AAAGGGHHHH!!!" It was a scream, and I was the one screaming, but it sounded far away, and not all of it was from the pain I felt in my cunt. Not all. The tip of Mark's cock slammed against my cherry with heart stopping forcefulness and this time I couldn't even scream. My eyes bulged and I snapped the lids shut to prevent my eyeballs from popping right out, and my mouth opened but no sound emerged. Mark grabbed one of my bare tits and held on for dear life, and then he lunged again with his cock, a lunge so hard, so fierce, so irresistible- My cherry tore and I felt pain shoot all through my body, but it didn't matter. . . didn't matter . .. didn't matter . ..
He was in me, buried to the hilt in my blood and cream, and I was sixteen years old and I wasn't a virgin anymore. He'd torn my virginity asunder with the blunt snout of his dong. It hurt with him so fat and hard and long inside me, fully inside me, his belly grinding against mine as I leaked wetness all around his cock, and my vaginal muscles clutched at him so tightly he couldn't move, couldn't pull out if he'd wanted to, couldn't pull out if I'd wanted him to, and we just lay there, both of us moaning and sobbing with the accomplishment of it, and I clenched at him with the leg I'd slipped round his body, and after a few moments of dumbstruck enjoyment he began to quiver and convulse against me, inside me, and I felt . . .
. . . felt the nipple capping his rubber begin to flop about inside my pussy as his cum spurted, filling that nipple until it had swollen and was nearly as stiff as the nipples on my tits, and he was coming, coming like a geyser, all of it, thank God, flowing into his rubber and not into me, and I writhed against him, wishing he'd do something for me too, because it was my first time and it was almost over, virtually before it had begun . . .
"Fuck me," I panted, "you wanted to fuck me-so fuck me, damn it! Fuck meeee!!!"
His head shook as I moaned at him, and somehow the clench of my cunt lightened around him, and then I felt his dong begin to move inside me. Even though he'd already come, he retained a stunning hardness, and the feel of that hardness moving in my sex-Jesus! Ten years have gone by and I can still barely find words adequate to describe it.
There was no subtlety in the way Mark fucked me. It was hard, furious, in-out ramming, as if he wanted to do something to me before he lost his erection, and I was buffeted mercilessly by his mad passionate screwing. My cunt split as he lunged into it, and I felt him slide deeper than I had ever thought anything could go in a woman, but he was there now, so, so, sooooo deep, so ferociously hard, fucking, frictioning the walls and mouth of my pussy, squeezing my tit like a steel trap as he fucked me. I thrust my face toward his and clung to him, our mouths melting together, tongues battling for supremacy, and he fed his latex-sheathed pecker to me in huge, healthy doses, the cum squishing inside his rubber as he fucked me.
"Mmmmm!!" both of us chanted in unison, the moan fluttering as tongues worked and lips tingled in pleasure. Wetness was leaking from my pussy, into the crack of my ass, making me sticky and sloppy, but I didn't care, I only wanted to be taken, the way he was taking me now, hard and fast and brutally. If my snatch had been a flower, he'd have killed it with the speed and savagery of his fucking, but he was a man possessed, just as I was a woman possessed. God, I had been a woman-a full-fledged woman!-for at least three minutes already, and I fucked at him as though I'd been doing this for years. My head didn't know how to handle it, but my ass did!
And then I tore my mouth from his, just as a million fires went off at once in my belly, and my cunt exploded around his still-ramming dick. "Ohhhhhggggooooddddd!!" I quavered, for I was coming, coming like a hurricane.
"Aaaaahhh-" a choked off moan from Mark's lips, and despite my own orgasmic abandon, I could feel it. He was coming too, coming with me, spurting his second load of cream into that already cum-filled, sloppy rubber, and his swollen balls slapped the cheeks of my ass in a jangle of fresh stimulation that just kept me coming and coming and coming.
Later we ceremoniously tied off the end of the rubber and flushed it down the john, and we did our damnedest to get the blood and cum stains off the sofa cushions, but they didn't come out entirely. If my parents ever noticed, they didn't say anything, and I made sure to spill a cup of coffee in that exact spot the next morning, so I guess if my mother reads this, it will be the first time she knows exactly why there's a discoloration on one cushion of the parlor sofa. Sorry, Mom, if that helps.
He didn't have any more rubbers, and I didn't have the nerve to take him on without a condom, so we went back to playing with each other. It wasn't nearly as much fun, and by the end of the evening my pussy was no longer sore and was instead hungry for a quick rematch.
The only trouble was, the next time we made love, Mark was much gentler with me, as if he'd reviewed his past performance and picked out a few mistakes in approach. Again he wore a rubber, but he eased his cock into me rather than ramming it, and he stroked me more gently, before, during and after the screw, and though I came, it wasn't like before. At the time I didn't exactly understand. The come itself was good enough for me. That, and the majestic feel of his cock as it squirted cum into that rubber all the way up my snatch. My pussy wasn't as tight and defensive around him, either, and he entered me with much less difficulty.
We kept on dating, and fucking, till the end of the school year. Mark was a year older than I was, and he graduated that spring. I still remember the graduation night we spent on a blanket in the woods overlooking Munsee Lake. By then we'd graduated sexually, too, and we were not only fucking, we were also very addicted to going down on one another, and I don't remember how many times his cock exploded down my gulping throat. Still, it didn't compare with that first, fantastic time, when he'd virtually raped away my cherry and fucked me till I screamed. In two more weeks he was gone, to the Army, and I only saw him once again, when he came home after basic training. Before he could get leave again, he was dead, killed in a jeep wreck at the base. I didn't date again till I went to college, and even then, it was my junior year before I allowed anyone to fuck me.
I had the usual number of affairs after that. Three or four in college, all of them serious at the time, none of them satisfactory enough to make permanent. I majored in business and wound up as a receptionist/secretary, and eventually I wound up living with Keith Sirolla, hot young attorney in Susquehanna City. And I was engaged to marry him, for some reason I still couldn't put my finger on. I shook my head and drove on.
Somehow, I seemed to attract men who wanted to worship women, to treat them like fragile goddesses of romantic love. Well, they wanted to fuck me, too, but my body and soul yearned for something more. I tried to imagine Keith brandishing a whip and snapping, "Get on your knees and suck my cock, you bitch!" but it was impossible. He was too sweet, too considerate, too.. . too . . . too what? Not even in his wildest, most ungovernable moments could he let go enough to use me that way. Why did I even want him to? I didn't know.
Down the road a sign attracted my eyes. "Canadian Border-12 miles." What the hell? I thought. I'd never been to a foreign country before. This seemed as good a time as any. I took the turn off indicated by the sign, and in twenty minutes I was in Quebec, not quite surprised to see that it wasn't appreciably different from the stretch of Vermont I'd just left behind. See, Nanette? I told myself. You haven't changed anything just because you crossed an imaginary line between two countries. You still have to go home and marry Keith Sirolla, or else find some good reason not to. I lit another cigarette. I'd gone through nearly a pack since breakfast and, before long, I'd have to stop somewhere and empty the ashtray.
* * *
It was late afternoon and the changing leaves on the maple trees lining the road were a beautiful blend of colors." Reds and golds and browns and all the other hues of fall setting in, and I wished that I'd brought my camera along so I could take a few pictures. But the decision to get out for a few days had been a sudden one, and all I had with me were a few extra clothes. Besides-even if I'd taken the camera, it was out of film. So what? A tree is a tree, anywhere you see it.
This was a secondary road that led eventually to Montreal, and the country through which I drove looked as if it hadn't changed much since the days when Samuel de Champlain marched south to fight the Mohawks on Lake Champlain. Driving here, you could almost imagine that the whole world was a Garden of Eden, and that you were Eve combing the woods for your Adam. And watching out for snakes.
I passed through a couple of towns that were no more than taverns and grocery stores in the midst of a few houses, and the sun moved lower and lower down the western sky. What was on my mind, I don't remember, but I should have been looking at my gas gauge.
CHAPTER THREE
I heard the engine sputter, and then I looked up and saw the house perched atop the knoll a few hundred yards further on, the only house I'd seen in a couple of miles, and I remember thinking, At least I'm not alone in the wilderness.
The engine coughed and died, and I coasted down the gradient watching the gauge needle sink past the E mark. Damn! Why hadn't I filled up somewhere? Was I that busy thinking about my conflicts and personal dilemmas? Hell of a lot of good thinking would have done me, if I'd broken down somewhere in the deep woods and had to sleep in the car tonight. Days were pleasant enough this time of year, but at night the temperature dropped the way my panties had when I decided it was time for me and Mark to share our first fuck.
Belatedly, I turned off the lights and switch. By now I'd coasted the Mustang off the road, though there seemed to be little if any traffic. Habitually, I locked the door after I'd gotten out, and I started on down the road toward the house I had seen. The sun was almost set now, the last orange glows flashing through the trees to my left.
It was an old house, reminding me at first glance of one of the Gothic mansions where young heroines find all sorts of dread and danger in popular novels, but that was a subjective opinion, I decided. It looked very dark and brooding against the fading sky, and there was an acre or two of clear ground surrounding it before the forest took over again. A tall house, three stories high, though the top floor was probably attic, it looked impressive and rather picturesque in its lonely setting. Again I wished I'd brought along my camera.
There was a mailbox reading BUCKLEY on one side, freshly painted, and lights were shining from the house, so I took heart and marched up the cobblestone walkway, onto the porch. There was no bell, but a gnome-faced doorknocker grinned at me. I took the gnome by the chin and rapped two or three times.
"Hello," the voice began even before the door was opened widely enough for me to see its possessor.
"Hi," I replied, and the door swung further open.
A woman stood in the doorway, a very tall woman-at least six feet-and a very beautiful woman, too. I wasn't too vain She was very pale-skinned, like a night-blooming orchid, and her slender, finely-chiseled face was surrounded on each side by falls of straight, luxuriously black hair which made her skin seem even paler by comparison. Her eyes were large, set beneath dark brows, and her mouth was a luscious painted slash of cherry pink. Except for a little mascara around her dark eyes, the lipstick was her only makeup.
She wore a simple combination of turtle neck pullover and tight-fitting blue jeans, and her figure was quite good. A slender woman, she had rather large tits that moved just enough under the snug pullover to show that they were braless, and the nipples made small, dainty indentations in the clinging fabric. Her waist was tiny-if I'd wanted, I could probably have closed my fingers around it, though I was unsettled by the idea and just a little curious about why I'd want to do anything like that-and her hips were narrow but definitely feminine. The jeans clung to her legs, and they were good legs. Slender in the thighs, the way I wish mine were until I began to squeeze the plumpness and get goose bumps all over.
"Excuse me," I said, "but my car's run out of gas, just up the road, and I was-" "Come inside," she said, a very soft voice like satin swishing, "it's too cold to stand out and talk." It didn't seem cold to me, but I'm a little more robust than she was, so I stepped inside.
"Uh, do you have any gas you could sell me? Enough to get me to a station."
She shook her head slowly. "I'm afraid not," she said, and that voice was like a little wind blowing in my ear. "It's after six, and I don't think you'll find a gas station open this side of the border."
I heard the rustling of beads and looked up. We were in a long hallway, with a staircase at the far end and doors opening on the sides. One of those doorways was guarded with a curtain of bead-strings and a man had just stepped through it.
He was a tall man, I suppose, as men go, but he was no taller than the woman and when they stood side by side they looked like matching parts of a set. He too was slender and pale, large-eyed, with the most delicate hands I'd ever seen on a male. The fingers were very long and tapered and looked as if they'd never done a day's work in their lives. It was hard to tell their age but I doubted if they were much older than my twenty-six. Husband and wife?
"My name is Nanette Dolan," I said, offering my hand. "I'm from the States, just traveling through."
The woman took my hand and squeezed it in a surprisingly firm grip. "I'm Marjorie Buckley and this is my brother, David." He nodded and shook my hand too. His fingers were much stronger than they looked. "Brother and sister? I thought. Twins, most likely, for they looked so much alike.
"Nanette's run out of gasoline," Marjorie told David, "and I was just telling her that all the local stations are closed by this time." He nodded, eyes scanning me up and down. Vampires, I thought. They have the bloodless pallid look of vampires. But attractive vampires, no matter what Christopher Lee does in the movies. Christopher Lee. Mmmm! He could bite my neck anytime he felt like it. I smiled at the thought, and both the Buckleys smiled back at me.
"Would it be all right if I asked Nanette to spend the evening with us?" Marjorie asked suddenly. David raised his eyebrows and he looked at her, and then he nodded slowly.
"Yes," he said. "Of course. That's a very good idea."
"All my ideas are good," Marjorie replied. Her eyes glistened slightly and I wondered why that should be. But she was looking at her brother and he was looking at her and I felt like the fourth side of a triangle.
"Would you like to spend the night?" Marjorie said, turning to me. "We have plenty of room and it would be nice to have a new face around, if only for an evening. First thing in the morning, if you wish, we can get you enough gasoline to carry you on your journey."
"Well!" I said, "I guess so. Thank you very much. I was afraid I might have to sleep in my car or something."
"Have you eaten? We were just sitting down to dinner." I hadn't, and in a twinkling, all three of us were sitting down to dinner.
Afterwards, we went into the parlor for coffee and cigarettes (at least I had a cigarette; neither of them smoked), and I began to learn a little about my hosts.
They were indeed twins, and thirty years old, though they didn't look it. It seemed funny that they'd stayed together that long, neither of them marrying or anything, but who was I to ask questions about that? If I had my way, I might not marry soon either. If I had my way. They'd been born in this house and, though they lived in the States for a few years, had come back to the old homestead.
Both of them were writers, which I might have guessed from the laden bookshelves in this room. Marjie - she asked me to call her that-wrote children's books and David specialized in romantic love stories, written under a female pen name, which sold very well, or so he said. I'd never met a writer before, let alone two or them, and we talked a long time.
Perhaps I said a little too much about myself. I know I mentioned Keith and our upcoming marriage, and I think that some of my reluctance showed through the conversation. Neither Marjie nor David pressed me on the subject, though, and I was glad. I drank a second cup of coffee, smoked another cigarette, and found that I was extremely tired. Well, I thought, I've driven many, many miles today. Why shouldn't I be tired? On the other hand, why wasn't the coffee keeping me awake, the way it usually does? Usually two cups of coffee give me more of a rush than several tabs of speed, but not tonight.
"Come," Marjie said, rising. "I'll show you to your room."
She led me up the staircase, to the second floor of the house. Another set of stairs led up further, but I presumed that they had offices or studies or whatever up there, where they did their writing. "Here," she said, opening a door and flipping on a light. "I think you'll be comfortable here. The bathroom is next door, and if you need a nightgown-" "Oh, I never wear one," I said, giggling a little, as if I were slightly drunk. My head felt funny, all woozy and swimming round and round and round, and I didn't think I'd even bother going to the bathroom. I just wanted to lie down and sleep.
"All right," Marjie said, patting my shoulder. "We'll see you in the morning, then, Nanette. That's a very pretty name. Nanette. I like to say it. Very French-Canadian."
"I'm from Pennsylvania, though," I apologized. She smiled, a little color showing in her pale face, and she went out. I began to peel off my clothes, and the idea of stretching out on that inviting bed really turned me on. I didn't even bother neatening up my slacks and sweater and undies. They lay where I dropped them and I was between the sheets, stretching, yawning, my limbs slowly numbing.
What happened next was very strange. It was like I was two different people, one of them sound asleep, the other watching, as from a distance. And the watcher was also listening, it would appear, because that Nanette heard the bedroom door open, heard soft footsteps patting across the floor toward the bed. It was dark and the watcher couldn't see. Not at first. But someone flipped on a lamp that stood on a table by the bed and a small circle of light appeared.
"Is she asleep?"
"She ought to be. It was a good dose." "Pull down the sheets."
I knew those voices, but I couldn't tell who they belonged to. Then a face leaned into the circle of light and it was Marjie Buckley, and she was pulling down the sheet that covered me, and the Nanette that was asleep couldn't move while the watching Nanette couldn't speak to ask what was going on.
"She's lovely." A male voice. David Buckley. "She's very lovely."
"Of course she is. If she'd been ugly, I wouldn't have asked her to stay the night."
Hands were upon my breasts, soft, long-fingered hands that traced the curvature of my tits, that flicked lazily across the tips of my nipples. "Look," Marjie said, "her nipples are erecting. I'll bet she's a hot one."
"No betting," David said softly. "I don't want to get into your debt again. It was bad enough the last time I owed you."
"You loved it, you bastard.
"I did indeed." Marjie turned and her brother swept her into his arms. Their faces came together and I knew that he was kissing her in a way that is definitely non-kosher for brothers and sisters, even in our liberated society. And I could see his hands cupping her ass, pulling her against him, see those buttocks jiggling in the tightness of her blue jeans as she rubbed her front against David. After a long moment, they broke off the embrace and turned to me.
Don't ask me how I could see, hear all this. It was partly like a dream, partly like the feel of sleeping and waking, waking and sleeping in quick alternation, so swiftly you can't tell which sensation belongs to which period. In fact, I was so detached from it all that I assumed it was a dream, a weird dream, the kind that strike you as silly even while you're dreaming them. That notion occurred to me as I lay on the bed and I wondered if I'd wake up in a minute or two.
David looked down at me for a second, and then his hands cupped my breasts. God, his fingers were cold! And they squeezed at my tender flesh as if he meant to crush them like overblown balloons. I think I murmured, for the pressure stopped at once, and he looked at his sister. By that time my nipples were rigid.
He bent in, licked at my nips for a second, then caught one between his teeth. I murmured again, felt the pressure relax, but it started up again as soon as my little whimper died away. The sheet slid further down my body and something touched me between the legs. Long fingers, caressing my pussy and thighs.
"Sweet, sweet," I heard a female voice purr, and a finger stroked the line of my slit. Deftly it moved inside, past the snug labia, and there was an insistent tickling at my vulva, circling round and round the nubbin of my clit. And still those teeth gnashed upon my nipples, the nipples that were now fully erect, thrusting themselves into the mouth that pulled at them.
"Young and tight," Marjie husked, "with the tiniest, most elusive clit you've ever seen."
"Let me see," David said. "Trade me places."
"Yes," Marjie whispered. "I want to suck those lovely little breasts too. Do they taste as sweet as they look?"
"Sweeter."
And now it was her mouth that dropped down upon my boobs, her mouth that closed upon the end of a breast, her tongue that fluttered round and round that sucked-in tit, that assaulted my nipple, her teeth that bit gently into my flesh, her drool that flowed across the curves of my breasts. She could only suckle one at a time, and she stroked the other with her hands, keeping that nipple erect too.
And it was David's slender fingers that played with my pussy, one of them entering me deftly, wickedly, slipping right up the mouth of my sex tunnel while he kept me split cuntally, while his other hand massaged the region of my clitoris.
It lias to be a dream, I thought, lying there, my body heavy as lead, unable to move. A weird, kinky dream. Once I'd dreamt that Keith tied me to the bed and fucked me in the asshole, all the while calling me a bitch who needed to be taught a lesson. Keith, of all people! Sweet, gentle Keith! Why, President Ford would be more likely to use me that way than Keith would! Tomorrow when I woke up, if I remembered this dream at all, I'd laugh my ass off.
"Now," David Buckley said, and instantly his sister's face rose from my boobs. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, for spit was dribbling from her mouth, and she turned to face her brother. Looking past her body I saw David unzip his trousers and fetch forth a cock that was incredible in its length and thickness. Most of the men in my life have been reasonably well hung, even my first, Mark, back in high school. Keith Sirolla, for example, has about seven inches of erect gristle and he's rather bigger in diameter than a broomstick. But David's dream pecker had to be a foot long or close to it, and he was as thick as the narrow part of my wrist, which isn't small. His penis jutted up from his unzipped fly, standing erect and imperious, cocked at a jaunty angle, the tip of him looking as big as a small clenched fist, its color a bruised grape purple.
"Now," Marjie repeated, and she raised her arms while David took the hem of her sweater and pulled it up, over her head. Her straight black hair wasn't even tousled by the removal, and I thought, What better proof that this is a dream? No hair is that obedient and well-trained.
She was braless under the sweater, and her large tits heaven as she stood facing her brother. Her nipples were big dark circles on her milk-white tits, and the nubs of those nipples stuck out vividly. David cupped her boobs from beneath, lifting them toward her face. Marjie leaned forward, tongue extended, and she licked daintily at each of her nipples.
David hoisted the large breasts-they were probably medium-sized C-cups, low-slung but not saggy by any means-a little higher, and I saw her do something I'd always wished I could do. She mouthed the end of one tit, sucking herself till the nipple glowed all pink and wet, then switched to her other boob and gave it the same treatment. I remembered last night at the motel, sitting in the bath wishing I could pull off that little trick and I knew this was just a kinky dream. Here I was, transferring my own weird fantasies to a total stranger who'd been considerate enough to give me shelter in her house when I was stranded and far from home. Shame on you, Nanette Dolan! I told myself, the watching part speaking to the part of me that still slept. Shame, shame, shame!
Slowly Marjorie sank to her knees before her brother. Now that I knew how silly this dream was, I could have fun with it, the way I like to do with really dumb dreams. "I'm going to suck your cock," she told David. "I'm going to screw my mouth with the full, beautiful length of your fat delicious pole. I'm going to suck you all the way into my throat and work on you with my jaws until you moan and beg for mercy. And then I'm not going to give you that mercy. I'm going to keep sucking. Sucking. Sucking! Until you turn to jelly in my mouth and you fill me with the milk of your cum."
"I really wish you would," David said seriously.
Marjie caressed his cock for a moment, using her small hands on that enormous instrument, and then she lifted on her knees, so that she could bring her tits to bear on him. "Yes," he said more energetically. "Let me fuck your tits!"
Marjie closed them upon the swollen fence post erection and she moved back and forth, rocking where she knelt. I saw his cock sliding between her boobs, saw it lance up to bump her lips, saw her lips open to swallow the head. God almighty! I thought in my dream. I couldn't even get the head of him into my mouth. I'd be choking and gagging and my lungs starved for air before half that huge pecker glans had passed through my lips. Even if I were willing to try a cock that size, I couldn't do it.
But she could. "Sweet," he whispered. "You're the sweetest, Marjie. Suck my cock. Suck all my cock."
And with that he began to thrust into her mouth. Jesus! When I say thrust, I mean thrust! His first stroke carried more of that cock into her mouth than seemed possible, and I couldn't believe the second thrust, even in a dream. On the third lunge, Marjie took him to the very root, and it's a wonder I didn't wake up right then, because how could any woman's mouth accommodate itself to the presence of a grossly thick cock of at least twelve inches' length?
But there it was, and at least I'd seen it, if only in a dream. David grinding his loins against his sister's face so that his bails nuzzled her small, dainty chin, her mouth and, Jesus, her throat, too, totally full of him. He had to be fucking her in the esophagus!
Or he would have been, if this had really been happening, if it had been anything more than the weird sex dream of a screwed-up young lady worried half to death about a commitment she should never have made, a young woman trying to find some reasonable way not to get married eight days from tomorrow.
"That feels good, Marjie," he asserted. "I wonder if she can do it?" And he pointed toward the bed where I lay. "Maybe we'll give her a chance, hmmmm? Do you think she'd like to try?"
Marjie must have been taught that it isn't polite to speak with your mouth full. She gurgled around the meat of his hard-on, and she made little purring sounds too, the kind of noises a cat makes when you're scratching its ears and it feels very, very nice and comfy, but mostly she seemed to be sucking him. Her cheeks moved in and out swiftly, and she held him there longer than seemed possible even for a crazy dream like this one.
And then she relaxed her lip pressure and David's cock began to emerge from her mouth. He was sloppy with spit and drool, and he seemed redder-shafted than he had before. That was fairly realistic touch, I thought. Usually my dreams don't bother with that attention to detail. Maybe being in a strange house, the guest of a couple of writers, had made my subconscious more attentive to detail.
"Suck me hard, now," he commanded. "Suck me hard and fast, the way you do best. Squeeze my balls in your lovely hand, sister. Reach into my pants. Pull them out too. Jiggle them from side to side. Ah, God, yes!"
Her head moved at a totally impossible rate of speed on David's pecker, and most of the time she was taking him into her throat the way she had before. Maybe I ought to write down some of my dreams, I thought. I could start writing sex novels and make a lot of money if I put them on paper.
I don't know how long she worked on him. Time was a weird, faraway thing for me then, something that had no meaning. It never does when you're dreaming. All I remember is that suddenly she pulled her mouth from his cock, grabbed him in her fist, and jerked her head out of the way.
Still clutched in his sister's hand, David stumbled toward the bed-toward me-and the tip of his dick exploded as cum whoooosshhhheeeddd from him in thick, fast-flying spurts. I could see each separate explosion of his semen, and all of them were soaring in my direction, hitting me in the face, on the tits, on the belly. Some of the stuff landed in my hair, some of it beside me on the pillow, but the overwhelming majority of his cum, a hot sticky cupful of thick man-milk, seemed to gush right into my face and onto my boobs. The dream was so real that I felt wetness on my cheeks-Jesus, I thought I could taste something tangy and salty on my lips!
I told myself, Christ, if this dream doesn't win first prize for realism, I may never sleep again.
His cock ceased its spurting, and by now he was panting with the release. Marjie rose from the floor and she stood by him, both of them looking down at me where I lay. The dark-haired beauty leaned in and she lapped delicately at the semen drops on my skin. I almost thought I could feel her hair brushing over my face like wisps of silk.
A huge bubble of cum was on my chin, unmoving. Marjie's tongue picked it up, a juicy fat pearl of jism, and she turned to David. Her tongue extended, still nursing the proof of his passion on the pink tip, and he licked it away with his own lips and tongue, smiling as he savored the taste of himself.
"We'd better go," he announced, caressing her still-bare tits. "I want to fuck you now."
"Don't you want to fuck her? She'll not feel a thing. Nanette is completely out of it."
"I don't want to fuck anyone who can't feel it," he said. "I want to fuck a woman who can."
Marjie sighed. "Look at that skin," she said. "So pink, so puffy in all the right places. And her thighs. Just the tiniest bit fat, but such fat. Wouldn't you like to bite her there? Bite her till she moaned and screamed and begged you to keep on biting ... keep on biting ..." His cock was still rigid and one of her hands dropped, almost casually, to fondle it. "But there'll be time," she added. "I think that darling Nanette may be just what we're looking for. Both of us."
And they were gone.
Well! I know I slept a lot afterwards, and I know that just before I dropped into deeper slumber the active part of my head told me that I might as well knock off dreaming for the rest of the night because I could never hope to stop the last one, and I think I giggled in my sleep as I rolled onto my side and curled up in a tight little ball.
I woke up in the morning, early, about eight o'clock to judge from the sun outside. I hopped out of bed, did a few sit ups to get the blood flowing, then picked up my clothes and started to put them on. As I was easing my tits into the cups of my brassiere I happened to look down.
That's when I saw, clear and plain on both my breasts, the remnants of cherry-pink lipstick ringing the nipples.
"Oh, Jesus," I said aloud, my whole body chilling. The last time I'd seen that shade of lipstick it was on Marjie Buckley's mouth.
CHAPTER FOUR
I just stood there a long time, staring at the lipstick on my tits, and nothing made sense. Hadn't I been dreaming? Hadn't I? Oh, God! Had they really come into my bedroom last night, Marjie and her brother? Had they really toyed with my body, with one another's bodies, had she really fallen upon her knees and swallowed the monstrous horse cock to the very nuts in her passion, then allowed the spurting semen to drench me where I lay sleeping? At least, partly sleeping.
They'd mentioned something about a "dose." Did that mean they'd drugged me? Was I supposed to be out cold while they took their weird pleasures? Jesus God, what kind of house had I walked into last evening? What kind of people were these Buckley twins? I felt shivery and shuddery and I thought of my Mustang, parked a few hundred yards up the road from this house, needing only a little gas to get me on my way. Oh, wow, I thought, where can I get that gasoline?
I dressed in a hurry, first wiping those stains off my boobs, but even after I was fully clothed I just stood there, shirt buttoned up to my neck, staring at the little pink smears on the white tissue. Had she really done it? Really kissed and sucked my nipples, rubbed her mouth all over my tits? Marjie? That wide, thin-lipped, pink-painted mouth? And touched me, too, in ways that no woman had ever touched me before?
Oh, sure, I knew that women did things like that together, and I'd ever seen them occasionally. X-rated movies aren't my favorite kind of entertainment but I go once in a while, and I've watched Tina Russell and Georgia Spelvin bury their faces in each other's crotches while the camera zoomed in to show wet pink tongues nuzzling juicy labia, rummaging up and down the cuntal creases. But try it? I'd never felt the urge.
I got myself under control and went downstairs, looking for Marjie and David. Or was I the first one up this morning? "Hello, Nanette," she said as I peeked into the kitchen, and Marjie turned from the stove where bacon and eggs were sizzling in a skillet. "You're just in time for breakfast." David was sitting lazily at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. He looked up, smiled his greeting. I took a deep breath and entered the room.
As we sat eating country-style breakfast my eyes moved from her face to his and back again and back again, and I tried to make it all make sense. They looked fresh and bright and young and very wholesome-like any brother and sister who live together in an isolated house in an isolated part of the Quebec forest, I supposed. Was that wholesome? Jesus, I didn't know. But now, in the clear light of day, looking at them, it was impossible for me to believe that last night was anything except a crazy, weird dream, dredged out of the kinkier depths of my subconscious. Or at least I could have felt that way, if I hadn't seen the pink lipstick on my tits. Marjie was wearing that same lipstick this morning, and it glistened, ringing the white, even teeth that showed so freely every time she smiled. Which was a lot. I tried to keep my mind on my food and on getting gas for my car.
"Well," I said, sitting back, "I don't know how to thank you for your hospitality. Not everyone would take in a stranger."
"You're not a stranger, as far as we're concerned," David smiled. Did he have a double entendre in that smile? I couldn't be sure. But if last night had not been a dream, then he and his sister certainly knew me very, very well. "More coffee?" Marjie was at my shoulder, pouring before I could answer. "Oh, we're out of cream. Let me get some." And she returned with a little pitcher of milk which she poured into my coffee. I added sugar and stirred, they took a drink. There was the slightest off-taste to the coffee, as if the sugar were stale or the milk not exactly fresh . ..
"Do you think you could maybe give me a lift to the nearest gas station?" I asked, lifting my eyebrows. "I really should be on my way. I'd like to get to Montreal..." Montreal? That was only spur of the moment. I had no plans of going there. Indeed, as soon as I got enough gas into my tank I might turn right around and haul ass back to the United States. To tell the truth, I was just a little bit scared. Of them, mostly. At first meeting, I'd thought of vampires in connection with David and Marjie Buckley, but after last night I knew it was something else. Sisters don't suck their brothers' cocks. Or was that only a sick fantasy I'd hallucinated? Whatever, I wanted to be gone. Now.
David was saying something but I couldn't hear him. My head felt very light and giddy, the way it had last night just before I went to bed, and I had trouble keeping my eyes open. I blinked hard, looking at David, looking at Marjie, watching their faces slip in and out of focus. "I ... I... I think..."
"I don't think you're in any condition to be traveling," Marjie said softly, her voice close and quite clear. Something touched my shoulders and it was a good thing, because I seemed to be falling, falling, falling...
* * *
"She's coming around," someone said. David. My eyes fluttered open and shut, finally deciding to stay open. I was in a room that seemed to be flooded with light. Fluorescents overhead, sunlight through a window. A big room. Not much of it was in focus right then, and neither was very much of Nanette Dolan, but I knew that I was lying down and that I hadn't seen this room before. Something touched my forehead, something cool and damp. It was a washcloth, and the fingers that guided it had painted nails. Pink, to match her lipstick.
We were in a long room, one side of the ceiling slanted downward, too low for either of the six-foot-tall Buckleys to stand upright under that slant. I looked around, and saw myself everywhere. The walls were covered with mirrors. Big, shiny, polished mirrors.
In one corner stood a large cabinet, big enough for Houdini to stand inside for a tricky escape feat, and at the other end of the room were a pair of upright beams stretching from ceiling to floor. Leather straps hung limply from high up those beams. Not far away was what looked like a carpenter's sawhorse, except that instead of being just bare wood, it was padded thickly on the crosspiece.
Marjorie took away the washcloth. "Are you feeling better now, dear?" she asked solicitously. I tried to sit up, but didn't have the strength. Instead, I just looked up into her clam, beautiful face. She was wearing the same outfit she'd worn at breakfast, a voluminous housecoat of pale blue that looked strangely icy in contrast to her ivory skin.
"What.. . what happened?"
She stroked my forehead with her bare hand. Cool, a little damp, but I felt myself warming under her touch. "We didn't want you to leave," she said simply, still petting me.
A door opened, somewhere among those mirrors, and David Buckley came into the room. He was wearing only a pair of blue jeans, blue-jeans that fit him like second skin, and I could see in them, vividly outlined, the size and shape of his enormous cock. I gasped. "Last night... it wasn't.. . wasn't..." His cock was fully as large as I'd remembered, and I knew now that I hadn't imagined any of it, that everything I remembered was truth, not a dream-fantasy.
"Last night?" Marjorie purred, leaning closer. Her fingers caressed my cheeks, moving back and forth across my skin till I wanted to jump right out of my skin. But I couldn't move away from her. I seemed to be frozen in place. "Last night?" she repeated. "Were you awake, after all? You naughty darling. You should have said something."
David came closer; my eyes were riveted to the bulge in his tight pants. He sat down on the other side of the bed, and now he and Marjie hemmed me where I lay. God, they seemed like giants as I looked up at them, far taller than their six feet. And I felt like a helpless dwarf, trapped . . .
He took one of my hands and interlaced his fingers with mine. "Nanette," he said in his soft, husky voice, "Marjie and I would like you to stay with us for a few days. We don't get many visitors, and when we do, we hate to say goodbye to them. Promise us that you'll stay?"
"I... I... I can't!!" My voice cracked. "I want you to go to Montreal. I have to be . . . have to be back home in eight days so I can be ... can be . .. " "Can be married?" Marjie interjected. "Last night you didn't seem so enthusiastic about getting married. In fact, if I judged your tone of voice correctly, you were unsure whether you'd even go through with it." She was right. I'd talked too much over coffee and cigarettes, known even as I was talking that I was revealing myself too freely. Marjie and David weren't stupid people.
Still holding my hand, David put his other palm on the flat of my tummy where I lay. I gasped, as if he'd dropped a millstone on me, but his hand lay very gently on me, and he began to rub lazy, light circles on the front of my shirt. "We want you to stay, Nanette," he said, almost whispering, "and we usually get what we want."
"You doped me," I said. "You put something in my coffee." Marjie smiled. "And you did it last night, too, so you could ... so you could come into my room and . . . and ..."
"She's a very intelligent girl," Marjie told her brother. "As well as a very attractive girl. It's so much more fun, don't you think, when they're intelligent? Remember that little secretary who visited us last summer? The one who got lost and stopped to ask directions? She was so beautiful but so terribly stupid, too."
"I want to go," I said firmly. "I want to go now."
"But you can't," David Buckley said, and he tugged at my hand. I sat up. "We don't want you to leave us. Not yet."
Marjie came around the bed and took my other hand. I had no strength whatever as the two of them lifted me to my feet, and I was surprised to see that I could stand at all, weak as my knees felt, I looked at them, and the Buckley twins towered above me by almost a head apiece, and I felt like a child in the company of determined adults. My God, I thought, what is going on in this weird household? What did I get into by stopping over here last night?
"This way, darling," Marjie said, and they were leading me across the floor. I watched our passage in the wall mirrors, watched as they guided me toward that pair of upstanding beams across the room, and I still couldn't figure out what was happening. My head was foggy even then from the drug they'd slipped into my coffee, from the realization that I was virtually the prisoner of this crazy pair of twins- Someone was touching my breasts. I looked down and it was Marjie's hands that stroked my tits, closed for a moment over the firm, pear-shaped mounds, squeezed, squeezed, till I moaned, and I couldn't help remembering last night, when she'd done this same thing to me as I lay half awake and half asleep. And then Marjie was unbuttoning my shirt, peeling it over my trembling shoulders. "No!" I said, throwing my arms across my boobs where they quivered in terror inside the pink brassiere.
"Yes," David said, pulling my hands away while his sister touched the little clasp between my tits and the bra fell open, sagging down from my firm breasts almost immediately. Marjie looked at him, her dark eyes shining, full of fire, and then she looked at me, straight into my own eyes, and I couldn't stop shuddering and shaking.
"Upsadaisy," Marjorie said with a smile, lifting one of my hands. I looked to see what she was doing, and then I understood what those leather straps hanging from the beams were for. Each of them was fitted with a small loop at the end, a loop just the right size for a hand to fit through, and she worked my hand into one of those loops. David took my other hand and gave it the same treatment, and there I hung, my arms up, the leather bands tight around my wrists, seeming to grow tighter and tighter as I struggled against them.
"Doesn't she look darling?" Marjie said, stepping back to admire me while I panted, arm-bound in the leather thongs. David nodded, and slipped an arm around his sister's shoulders. His fingers came down, resting on the well-filled upper portion of her robe, and she pressed his hand against her flesh, closing her eyes, sighing through half-open lips.
And then she stepped toward me, knelt, took hold of a thigh. I tried to struggle, but she had me fast, and her hands roved up and down my leg, heating my flesh as she stroked, even with the fabric of my slacks separating my skin from hers. Her head came to rest on my hip and she hugged me there, still feeling me up, feeling me down, her fingers coming closer and closer to the twitching crotch of my body.
"Please," I whispered, "I don't know what you have in mind, but I don't think I want to be part of it."
"Relax," David said, coming close, planting his hands on my helplessly bare tits. He caressed me until the nipples rose against his palms and my breath gushed in husky tremors, and then he leaned in even closer and kissed me on the face. First on the cheeks, then on the eyelids, then firmly upon the mouth. I felt as if I were suffocating even before his lips covered mine and stifled my breath for what seemed eternity.
I didn't realize until he broke off the kiss that his sister had taken advantage of the situation to unbuckle my belt, undo my slacks, and pull them off me. And, with the slacks, my panties and shoes as well. When David and Marjie embraced before me, I was naked except for my blushes.
Some of those blushes may have been due to what the brother and sister were up to. There was no way to mistake the fiery passion in their mouth-to-mouth kiss, the way each clutched and clawed at the other as they ground their bodies together, and certainly any lingering doubts would have vanished when they parted and David turned toward me with his cock well on its way to erection inside his pants. God, the size of him! I felt a huge lump building in my throat, especially when I recalled how last night I'd floated in from dreamland to see Marjie with that cock completely imbedded in her mouth, sucking as if her life and soul depended upon her performance.
"Who's first?" he asked, and she beamed with pleasure.
"Oh, let me!" Marjie sighed. Her brother nodded agreeably.
She threw back her long straight black hair, tossing the silky tresses over her shoulders, and she untied the sash of her housecoat. The garment opened, but not fast enough to please Marjorie Buckley, it would seem, for she grabbed impatiently at the flaps and flung the robe wide open, dropping it behind her as she approached me.
Under the robe she was naked, her body slender and lissome. Her breasts looked very large, now that I was seeing them with full consciousness for the first time, and the big dark nipples were stiff and jutting, each of those teats aimed at me like the muzzle of a little gun. She bobbled as she walked, and I could hear the rapidity of her breathing. Marjie ran her palms across her breasts, grinding down for a moment on her nips, and then her hands slithered languidly down her sides, onto the hipbones.
The surprising thing, for which I wasn't prepared, was the baldness of her pussy. Marjie's creamy cuntal hillock rose proudly between her lithe thighs, and the vivid red of her deeply cleft gash had not a hair to obscure it. She must have been shaven, but she didn't look shaven. She looked as if curly wisps had never even grown on her milky skin, and despite my fear and situation, I couldn't help thinking that her twat was a thing of real beauty, clean and classical in its construction. My guts clenched inside me and then Marjie and I were face to face, our breath mingling in the scanty inches of space separating us.
"What are-" I started to say, but I didn't have time to finish. Marjie grasped my chin, tilted my face, then kissed me like a wolf, her tongue shooting into my open mouth, her lips on mine as if we'd been glued together.
I strained in the grip of the leather bands, backing away from her, but she moved with me, her hands reaching behind to entrap the cheeks of my ass, and she worked her body into the spread of my thighs. Our pussies came together, and I felt her body twitch against mine when my cunny hair rubbed her shaven mons. Her hands grabbed more fiercely at my ass, those long slender fingers digging into my resilient buttocks, digging till tears sprang into my eyes, and for a long, heart-shuddering moment I felt exactly like Fay Wray, when she was tied (just as I was tied now) to the pillars of the Skull Island altar and King Kong first put his enormous hand upon her. I wanted to scream but I couldn't, for her mouth smothered me, her milky breath flowed into my body, and her full, deep breasts were heavy against my own.
And then that Fay Wray impulse passed, and my body seemed to melt against Marjorie Buckley, and our snatches flowed together, merging into one pulsing slit of passion that throbbed and quivered in two separate patterns at the same time.
It was like nothing I could have dreamed or imagined, this first fantastic moment when another woman's body oozed upon mine, her mouth hot and wet and open, covering mine, pouring into me the most heated kiss I had ever known in my life, the nipples of her tits like little darts of fire burning me, scorching my boobs, and I could feel my own nips erecting as we ground together, feel the maddened throbbing of blood as it rushed into my breasts, swelling them, making them heavier, like lead weights on my chest.
"Aaaaaahhhh-" I whined as we kissed, my little feeble cry pouring out past the impassioned weight of Marjie's mouth upon mine, and I felt the leather straps mauling my wrists where I struggled, struggled, so impotent, so helpless- My eyes were shut tightly and the musky female scent of her filled my nostrils, as captivating as expensive French perfume. She pulled me toward her with those hands on my ass, and I felt her spreading my cheeks, fingertips slipping into the widened crack. One fingertip brushed lightly, playfully, at the aperture of my anus, and for a moment it felt as if she were trying to sodomize me with her finger. I whined. "Nnnnn-" and lifted one leg, trying to escape her digital attack.
Marjie slinked against me and my leg seemed to wrap of its own accord around her naked thigh, and now we were even tighter, the two of us, our bodies more closely united, the moist honey of her cunt seeming to flow out, into my cunt, and I felt myself open to receive her. I can't explain it any better than that. It was like nothing else in my experience.
I mean, I should have been horrified at what they were doing to me, what they'd already done, what they apparently intended to do. For God's sake, I'd been drugged, chained as if I were a slave made ready for whipping, yet all I could think of was that hot female mouth upon mine, that scorching woman's body melted against me as if we were two matching parts of a jigsaw puzzle. I clenched my leg around her and she closed in, her fingers sliding uncontrollably through my crack now, two of them nudging from behind at my itchy cunt.
Itchy? Oh, Jesus, that wasn't the half of it! I was burning with desire, a desire that I couldn't understand, could only feel, and when she touched my twat with her .slender fingers, when she pried cautiously at the lower edge of my slit, I wanted to burst my bonds and . . . and ...
And what? Throw her to the floor? Run for my life? Or mount her, perhaps? Or allow myself to be mounted? How could I know? My blood boiled in my veins and despite that internal heat I was shivering in her embrace, shivering and trembling and mumbling into her open kissing mouth ..
Marjie pulled back her face, eyes enlarged, gleaming, wild and frenzied dark orbs, and her mouth was frothing from the spittle we'd shared. She wiped her lips with the back of a hand, then drew that hand across my lips too, and I mumbled something incomprehensible even to me. She reached back, gently prying my leg loose from her body, and the touch of her fingers on my thigh was electric. "Relax," Marjie said. "We've only just begun."
She cupped my breasts. "They're beautiful," she told me, "small and dainty. I wish mine were as pretty." And once or twice I'd wished mine were large, like hers, large and prominent and eye-catching. The grass is always greener. Her fingers dug harder at my tits, clawing me, almost, and between those fingers my rosebud nipples sprang up even harder, stiffen Ah, God! I thought madly. Don't stop!
She looked down at my breasts, and from her height it was a long way down. "Nipples like little flowers," she sighed. "And they taste even sweeter than the sweetest flower. But you know that I already know that, don't you, Nanette darling?" I nodded, chewing my lips. Marjie smiled, kissed me lightly, and then she bent toward my chest.
" A A AAGGGGHHHH!!!" I screamed wildly when her teeth clenched upon my already aching nipples. She'd spoken words of oozing softness and gentility, but her mouth was like a vicious animal on my tits. She bit me, she sucked me, she bit me again and the clench of her teeth left red marks all around my nipples. I bucked and strained in the grip of my leather wristbands, but each time I moved it seemed that my boobs only danced toward her sucking, biting mouth, only made themselves more and more available for the brutality of her oral attack.
Attack it was, and the first few bites made me scream and moan and kick, but as she continued, as one hand slipped down my belly and began to twine among the curling hairs of my beaver, I found that I could no longer cry out in pain. In fact, I wasn't sure I wanted to.
Her fingers-at least two, maybe three of them-clustered into a spearlike dart and shot into my pussy, taking advantage of my interior wetness to make a ferocious penetration. But once inside, they separated and flared out like the leaves of a palm and began to ream me internally in big, generous rotations.
"Oh, Christ, Marjie!!" I groaned, sagging back so that all my weight hung suspended from the leather strips on my wrists, then bucking toward her, regaining my feet, sucking (as it turned out) more of her driving fingers into my pussy.
She was still busy on my tits, but not for long. In another moment she turned her attention eastward, and her tongue lolled into the pit beneath my left arm, licking my sweat glands, coating that lingual tool in the perspiration that flowed uncontrollably from me as I struggled.
The touch of her was ticklish and maddening, and she made me lift an arm so she could get at my armpit all the easier. When she removed her face, Marjie's lips were shiny with my sweat, and she kissed me again so that I might taste the flavor of my own perspiration. It was strangely salty, strangely delectable too, and my tongue came out, licking the residue from her mouth. "What are you doing to me?" I asked, more than a little flustered by the wantonness of my unplanned gesture. "What in the name of God are you doing to me?"
She smiled, her hands busy-one delving in my pussy as I writhed and twisted against my ropes, the other sliding lazily but-oh, Christ!-effectively up and down the quivering curves of my right flank. "Nothing," she husked, "nothing that you're obviously not ready for. David, darling!"
I'd almost forgotten about him, what with the intensity of Marjie's advances, but David Buckley came forward, his cock now rigid inside his pants, which fit so tightly around his erection that I didn't understand why he wasn't strangled by the very weight and bulk of his aroused tool. He was rubbing himself as he walked, his long fingers sliding up and down that vivid outlined penis, and I closed my eyes, seeing it again the way I'd seen it last night in my bedroom, bare and stiff and God, so long, so goddamned long . . .
Marjie knelt before me and she brought her face against my lower belly, just breathing on my skin at first. But soon her tongue came out and she licked a circle round my navel, finally driving her tongue into my navel, rimming me. Keith did that when he made oral love to me, but it wasn't the same at all. Marjie's tongue was like a snake. It seemed to know every responsive portion of my body and it dwelled upon them. By the time she'd finished licking my belly button I was seeping musky girl-cum past the fingers in my twat and I felt numb from the neck down.
David put a hand on each of my cheeks and turned my face toward his. "I think you'll enjoy staying with us, Nanette," he purred. "In fact, you already seem to be enjoying it. Are you, Nanette? Are you having a good time?"
I wanted to tell him no, to beg him for my release, but at almost the same moment Marjie pulled her fingers out of my cunt and I looked down to see her sucking them dry, sucking away the cum I'd spilled upon them as she reamed me, and my heart jumped into my mouth. In another moment, my cunt jumped into Marjie Buckley's mouth.
"Mmmmm," she hummed, spreading my flanges wide and thrusting her face into the gap. Her nose and chin were both inside my generous slice, and her tongue came out, licking up and down the vulva. I screamed at the touch of her, but it wasn't exactly a scream of disgust or revulsion. Just as with my navel and tummy, she seemed to know precisely where to lick me so that my pussy throbbed with response and even more of my precious internal fluids beaded on the rim of my cuntal opening. I could feel the juice dripping from me, feel her hot, snaky tongue fluttering around to lick up the oozing pearls of Ms. milk, and I looked at David Buckley, my eyes beginning to roll in their sockets.
"Here, ditty, ditty," Marjorie was whispering into my opened cunt. "Come out, come out, wherever you are. OH!" Her cry was out unfeigned delight. "You must try her with your mouth, David dearest. Her clitoris is elusive but... mmmm ... so rewarding once you find it."
She was right. I had a small clit, a little tiny pea of sensuality hidden away in the folds of my snatch, but the moment Marjorie's tongue scraped lustfully across the tip of my button, I could have sworn that it was as big as Plymouth Rock.
"Sweet, sweet," she purred, husking the words right into my cunt so that they tingled and vibrated across the wet crevices of my sex, and I growled from deep in my throat, straining against the ropes that held me. I lifted one leg from the floor and draped it across Marjie's back as she leaned into me, and she began to stroke that leg with one of her lusciously sensitive hands, massaging me with her fingers as she started to massage my clit with her lips.
David pulled my face toward him and I knew that he wanted me to kiss him. "No," I whispered, but I had no say in the matter. Our lips met and mine seemed to pop open of their own accord, and before I knew it, his tongue was inside, skimming across the tips of my teeth, battling with my own tongue for supremacy there in my mouth.
And he won. God, how he won! His mouth crushed mine; he put his arm around me, began to stroke my breasts with his other hand, and he was just as wickedly direct upon my nipples as his sister had been. He pinched my tender rosebuds, pinched till I wanted to scream, but how could I scream, with the suffocating fever of his kiss? I opened my mouth a little wider, gave his tongue more access, and then I began to suck his tongue with all the agility at my disposal. His hand grew tighter on my boobs and he leaned against me, helping to support me so that I didn't have to depend on the aching brace of my leather wrist straps.
And if he was busy, Marjorie wasn't lazing! Her mouth was vulturing my pussy. There was no other word for what she did to me then. She ate me up and down, her tongue shooting up my snatch tunnel now and then but mostly concentrating on the steadily rising bud of my clit. I -writhed each, time her tongue lashed me, and it was like being whipped, but it was so sweet, so sweet. ..
I came with a sudden rushing flow of juices that poured into Marjorie's mouth, and I heard her smacking and gulping as she drank up all that I could offer. My clit throbbed against the bridge of her aristocratic nose and she was pulling my pussy lips wide, so wide that they ached from the strain of being separated, and the tip of her tongue scooped into my cuntal hole with maddening regularity, lapping up the jism as fast as I could discharge it.
"Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod," I kept chanting over and over, pulling my mouth free of David Buckley's so I could at least breathe and moan and sob out the fantastic pleasure of his, my first lesbian release, and I wrapped that leg around "Here, clitty, ditty," Marjorie was whispering into my opened cunt. "Come out, come out, wherever you are. OH!" Her cry was out unfeigned delight. "You must try her with your mouth, David dearest. Her clitoris is elusive but... mmmm ... so rewarding once you find it."
She was right. I had a small clit, a little tiny pea of sensuality hidden away in the folds of my snatch, but the moment Marjorie's tongue scraped lustfully across the tip of my button, I could have sworn that it was as big as Plymouth Rock.
"Sweet, sweet," she purred, husking the words right into my cunt so that they tingled and vibrated across the wet crevices of my sex, and I growled from deep in my throat, straining against the ropes that held me. I lifted one leg from the floor and draped it across Marjie's back as she leaned into me, and she began to stroke that leg with one of her lusciously sensitive hands, massaging me with her fingers as she started to massage my clit with her lips.
David pulled my face toward him and I knew that he wanted me to kiss him. "No," I whispered, but I had no say in the matter. Our lips met and mine seemed to pop open of their own accord, and before I knew it, his tongue was inside, skimming across the tips of my teeth, battling with my own tongue for supremacy there in my mouth.
And he won. God, how he won! His mouth crushed mine; he put his arm around me, began to stroke my breasts with his other hand, and he was just as wickedly direct upon my nipples as his sister had been. He pinched my tender rosebuds, pinched till I wanted to scream, but how could I scream, with the suffocating fever of his kiss? I opened my mouth a little wider, gave his tongue more access, and then I began to suck his tongue with all the agility at my disposal. His hand grew tighter on my boobs and he leaned against me, helping to support me so that I didn't have to depend on the aching brace of my leather wrist straps.
And if he was busy, Marjorie wasn't lazing! Her mouth was vulturing my pussy. There was no other word for what she did to me then. She ate me up and down, her tongue shooting up my snatch tunnel now and then but mostly concentrating on the steadily rising bud of my clit. I writhed each time her tongue lashed me, and it was like being whipped, but it was so sweet, so sweet. . .
I came with a sudden rushing flow of juices that poured into Marjorie's mouth, and I heard her smacking and gulping as she drank up all that I could offer. My clit throbbed against the bridge of her aristocratic nose and she was pulling my pussy lips wide, so wide that they ached from the strain of being separated, and the tip of her tongue scooped into my cuntal hole with maddening regularity, lapping up the jism as fast as I could discharge it.
"Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod," I kept chanting over and over, pulling my mouth free of David Buckley's so I could at least breathe and moan and sob out the fantastic pleasure of his, my first lesbian release, and I wrapped that leg around Marjie with a vengeance, pushing my cunt into her face so she wouldn't have to miss a drop of my orgasmic flow, and I throbbed against her mouth, her greedy sucking mouth, filling her with my substance, letting her feel every pulsating tremor of my climax, the climax she'd brought on with her mouth and her hands and oh God, her fluttering snakelike tongue .. .
Marjie sank back from my snatch, fighting free of the quivering leg that still fought to hold her in place, and she looked up at her brother. "She's all yours, darling," Marjorie sighed, punctuating the words with little swiping licks at the milky girl cream on her lips. "Take her and find pleasure."
"Oh God," I kept saying, "oh God, oh God, oh God-what are you going to do to me now?"
David unzipped his fly, then unbuttoned the top of his jeans. With Marjie's aid from the floor, he pulled down his skintight trousers and, as soon as they'd fallen past his crotch, his gigantic erection swung up, big and red and swollen, the tip of him gleaming purple as an overripe grape, aimed straight at me. He looked even bigger than he had last night and my blood froze in my veins. I'd been fucking since I was sixteen, but I knew that I couldn't hope to take that huge cock up my pussy. "Ohhhh-" I stood up, cum leaking down the insides of my thighs where it had flowed from my pussy hole, and the tension on my wrists relaxed a little, since the straps were no longer keeping me erect. "I can't... I could never . . . you're too big . .. please ..."
He came to me, cock bouncing as he walked, and his face beamed with smug confidence. "Of course you can," he told me. "Of course you can. In fact, I don't think you have any choice, Nanette."
CHAPTER FIVE
"Oh .. . ohhhh ..."
I moaned as David grabbed me by the legs and lifted the bottom half of my body right up from the floor. He was a slender man. I doubt if he weighed more than a hundred and fifty pounds on his six-foot frame, and his arms were lithe as pipe cleaners, but when he picked me up, the muscles corded in his skin and I felt myself being lifted with no trouble at all. "Fold your legs around me," he said, guiding one leg into place. I clasped him at the waist, then locked my other leg around him, too. He stood very straight, very rigid, and his body bore the weight of mine easily. I was still hung by my wrists, but there was no strain upon me as I braced myself on David. "Good," he said then. "Very good. You have a real knack for this, Nanette. Don't you think so, too, Marjie?"
"Mmmm-hmmmm," Marjie hummed from below us. She still sat on the floor, legs folded gracefully beneath her, large bare boobs heaving softly as she breathed. "She's a real treasure. We couldn't have done better for ourselves if we'd ordered her from a catalog."
She reached up and the tips of her fingers slid along on my David-clutching thighs. Marjie seemed to know where I'd be more ticklish, most reachable, and she tickled me and she reached me. I moaned again, a throaty "Ooooohhh-" and her hand slid beneath me then, patting my exposed pussy from underneath.
I was still wet and aching from the come she'd sucked out of me. When her fingers brushed the tingly flanges of my gash, I thought it was all going to happen again, right now. I rose, still holding David in my legs, and the wrist bindings slackened where my rising loosened their strained grip.
Her fingers pursued me, spreading pussy lips, dipping inside, but only for quick teasing penetrations, withdrawing then and tracing the swollen outlines of my labia, curling among the mottled gold-and-black hair that forested my twat. "I think she's ready," Marjie sighed from down there. "I think she's more than ready."
"So am I," David agreed. "Why don't you do the honors for us, darling?"
"Honors?" I whimpered. "What is there of honor in this? You invited me into your house . . . and then you drugged me, you're doing all kinds of perverted things to me-oh, Jesussss!!"
Her finger was inside me again. It felt like her pinky, for it was so slim and tiny-but so active, too, worming about in my cunt, crooking, uncrooking, the nail scraping with playful delicacy at the sensitive, oozy lining of my cuntal tube.
So far my snatch hadn't come into direct contact with David's pecker, but that began to change as soon as Marjie withdrew her finger from that last digital foray. I settled downward as she removed her pinky, and as I came down I felt it beneath me, long and thick, incredibly hot, unbelievably swollen and engorged-the massive bulk of David's huge prick. It thrust forth directly beneath my lowering pussy and then it seemed to rise, to push upward at my twat, and somehow I knew that Marjie was using her hands now, using them to caress me through the agency of her brother's dick.
"Ooooohhh . .. it's so big ..." I couldn't hold back the words. It was big, damn it, the largest cock I'd ever seen in the flesh in all my life. And now, wedged between my legs, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing the exposed lips of my pussy, it felt twice as large as it looked. "You can't put it in me . .. you couldn't... it won't fit... I know it won't fit... you'll tear me apart-" Marjie and David each had hands on my ass-one of hers, two of his-and they stroked me in contrapuntal patterns. I writhed, but I didn't unclench my legs from around his waist, and my pubic hair was plumb against his midsection, pushing so hard that some of my cunny hairs slipped up into my gash and began to tickle me from the inside out, the same way Marjie's fingers had done a few minutes ago. I'm afraid that didn't help my composure much, and I bobbed up and down where he supported me, a million freaked-out thoughts battling for supremacy in my brain.
Part of me was shocked at what was happening. I mean, this was like something out of a horror movie. Young woman seeks refuge from the elements in isolated house, finds herself the prey of vampires or werewolves or Dr. Frankenstein or something even worse. And here I was. I'd been doped; I was tied up like Fay Wray waiting for Kong to claim his bride; Marjie had just deprived me of my virginity in lesbian love (or at least some of it; after all, she'd done all the work; I'd only responded-oh, God, I'd responded!); and now here I was, riding David in what you could call piggy-back style. Except that we were face to face, which made a hell of a lot of difference. Especially when that big cock of his touched my creamy slit again and again, accompanied by the curious tips of Marjie's skilled fingers. I was being raped. No one had asked me if I'd like to sack down for a little romp; the straps controlling my wrists, the frame in which I was bound up-they were proof enough that this was a compulsory act on my part.
But- -but, oh, God, it was also sickeningly exciting! Nothing like this had ever happened to me before, and I was wetter in the twat than if I'd been screwing Keith nonstop for a week or two. At least, that's how it felt as my cunny honey dripped from my petals and coated the upper side of David's penis and the ends of his sister's fingers. Hadn't I just been bitching to myself, only yesterday (or was it ten years ago? Jesus, it seemed like ten years!), that Keith could love me but couldn't seem to excite me? Well, I was excited now. I might tell myself I wasn't, but the throbbing of my ditty made the lie choke in my throat.
"LIFT UP!!" Marjie shouted, a sudden high intense note of passion entering her voice, and she was pushing, too, pushing my ass upward. I had no choice. I lifted up. High. So high that the fists of my hands were much higher than the rings connecting my leather bonds to the wooden beams, and now it was hurting not because I'd sagged and was pulling the leather downward but because I was rising, rising, rising, and the straps were stretched upward as far as they'd go.
I had to lift high, because that cock of David's was so goddamned long and big! For Marjie to straighten it, aim its point upward at my slitted wet snatch, I had to cooperate. And, God, I cooperated! My eyes snapped shut when I felt the point of David's prick graze my pussy lips, and he was rigid against me, straining, pressing, the full stiff length of his meatstick wedged against my inadequate gash but hungry to enter, to ravage me like the Russian Army ravaging Budapest in 1957.
But his hands were under my ass, keeping me up, and Marjie used her fingers to steady her brother's cock, and-he was even stronger than I'd imagined him to be a few minutes ago when he first picked me up. David Buckley didn't waver, didn't tremble as he held me above him, and his face was calm and even-as long as you overlooked that wild gleam in his dark eyes, the gleam that made them look like glowing coals instead of black pools, the gleam that seemed to burn me as he looked up into my face.
"Beg me now, Nanette," he said clearly. "Beg me to fuck you."
"No." I shook my head. I had that much self-respect left, precious little comfort as it was. I wouldn't beg him. I couldn't beg him. Not even when Marjie made the tip of her brother's tool wiggle against me, made the very point of him separate the dripping lips of my pussy, ease inside just enough to let me feel how big a really big peckerknob could feel making entrance. I gulped, steeling my nerve.
"Beg me, you bitch!" he said, voice rising slightly though he still sounded very cool and collected. "Tell me how you're dying to have my cock inside you. How your mouth is watering for it. How your ovaries are erupting like volcanoes. Tell me, Nanette. And if you convince me, I'll fuck you."
He was crazy, but in a way, so was I. No man had ever spoken to me like that before. My men had always been sweet and tender and gentle and considerate, just like the man I was to marry a week from tomorrow back in Susquehanna. Keith. Oh, God, Keith! What would he think if he could see me now, if he could only know what my little premarital vacation had led to? Would he share my feelings of humiliation and helplessness? What would he think?
I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Part of me wished I was anywhere else but here, but the rest of me was a dripping, aching, melting cooze of pussy flesh, bathing the head of David's insistent cock with little spurts of milky secretion from deep in my guts. I strained against him, felt that cock wobble on my labia, felt it press back in reply as Marjorie lent support with her fingers.
"Beg him for it, Nanette," she panted from beneath me. "Beg him to fuck you. You're nothing," she added, "nothing but a toy. A toy to be fucked and sucked and used however we feel like using you. Oh, darling-let's give her a taste! Just a taste! And then she'll beg-I know she'll beg for your delicious prick once she's had a sample!"
"AAARRRGGGHHH!!" I screeched, moaning like a banshee as Marjie's fingers guided the end of her brother's cock into me." My labia melted like hot butter as he pushed upward, steered by his sister's hand, and he was driving his way into my depths, spreading me unbelievably with his fat-fleshed bone as I climbed up, up, stretching my leather wristbands again, stretching till they clawed into my flesh and made me whine with muted pain, but still that cock plumbed me, rolling into my snatch as if there was no end to his cock's penetrating length.
And maybe there wasn't. I rose, pulling myself up with those leather straps, and then I'd reached my limit and I hung impotently - but he hadn't reached his limit and he was far from impotent. My cunt was full of him, but I could look down with flickering eyes and see that little more than a third of his steely length was actually inserted within my portals, but oh, God, that four inches or so of David Buckley felt as big as any two men I'd ever fucked in my past life.
"Jesus ... oh, Jesus!!" I was gasping , and hyperventilating and my head felt icy cold while the rest of my body was like the inside of an oven. "You're tearing me apart... oh, you're fucking me to death . . . goddamn you . . . goddamn you ... goddamn you . . . Ohhhh-" "That's not what you're supposed to say," David whispered, the calm dispassionate voice of a madman, I thought, with the precious little thinking apparatus I had left. "You're supposed to scream for more. Why don't you scream for more, Nanette, my pretty little toy? I want to play with you, but you're not playing the game correctly."
And he slid a bit more of his cock into me, pushing it up my sex chute, reaming me wider than I'd ever been reamed before. I felt my guts turn upside down and then I could no longer keep myself hoisted up, out of his dominating reach. My body seemed to collapse and I slumped down upon him, and then-oh, God, then!!! I was full of him! His entire foot-long hot dog was jammed into my pussy, and the fat swollen knob of him had to be inches deep in my womb, for my loins were smack-dab against his and I could feel the jiggling of his small tight scrotum in my pubic bush.
My legs clenched around David, and I tried to lean back, lift up-anything to relieve the agonizing stuffed pressure inside my pussy-but I couldn't. I only quivered and writhed and trembled against him, and his hands were strong and supportive where they cupped my ass, as strong and supportive as his legs and spine which held both of us up, locked in the act of filling my snatch with his pecker.
"You son of a bitch!" I moaned, voice small and tight and faraway in my ears. I closed my eyes and my head shook uncontrollably, as uncontrollable as my ass.
Something touched my buttocks then, something wet and flat and frisky, and somehow I had enough presence of mind to realize that Marjorie, still on the floor beneath us, must be licking my ass. Ouch! Oh, God, ouch! She'd bitten me! Her teeth clenched on my tender derriere and dug in, and I began to rock up, away from her, as my tits bumped David in the chest.
"Are you going to beg me to fuck you now, Nanette?" he asked softly, stroking my cheeks and hair with his lips. The tip of his tongue brushed across my face, and the skin began to tingle. I felt a deep flash spread across my features and blood pulsated thrillingly at my temples. A red haze dimmed my vision for a moment, and I tried to focus on his pale, calm face, but the only thing I could think of was that enormous cock buried to the hilt in my snatch.
It wasn't moving, just filling me with its incredibly bulky presence, and I felt my cunny juices liquid and steamy all around him. He hadn't torn me apart. He'd raped me, he'd forced me to accept the full length of his majestic penis, but he hadn't torn me apart, even though the splay of my pussy was gigantic and the lips ached from making room for him.
Indeed, I was lubricating around him as copiously as if I'd pissed instead of creamed, and there was a hot excited pulsing in my snatch. Was it the throb of blood in and out of David's cock, or was it my clitoris, responding shamelessly to his invasion? Or-Jesus-could it be a fantastic combination of both?
And Marjie. Down there, using her hands and her mouth on my ass. Stroking me. Pawing me like a high-school boy horny and hot with his first girlfriend. Her fingertip gouged at my spread anal opening and I groaned, thinking she meant to digitally sodomize me. Before I could finish that groan her finger was gone and her tongue had taken its place, her tongue that licked my asshole, licked it, licked it, licked it-pried at the tight, resistant opening as if it could gain entry where her finger had been too large - oh, Jesus! She nearly made it! The more she licked, the more fluid my anal muscles became, and I felt my control oozing away, melting like a snowman when the sun catches it. Her tongue kept gouging, kept stabbing, spearing. My asshole dilated, almost big enough for her tongue to enter, and she exploited that momentary weakness, gripping my buttocks with two clawing hands and fucking up, up, passionately attacking my anus until every nerve and muscle in that part of my body twitched and trembled and even more pussyjuice flowed around her brother's dick.
"Beg me, Nanette," he whispered again, kissing me between the eyes. "Beg me to fuck you, and I'll do it. I'll fuck you."
I closed my eyes and knew that I had no more resistance left in me. My cunt was so goddamned full, so beautifully stuffed with him-already it felt as if the end of his dick was trying to fuck its way out my mouth from the inside - I sighed woefully, and I felt my tits heave, the nipples stiff as iron and hot as burning coals, and I said, "Yes, Jesus, yes! Fuck me! Oh, God, fuck meeeeee!!!"
And almost simultaneously Marjorie pursed her lips around my tingling asshole and sucked, sucked, God she sucked as if she meant to clean me out! I" felt my guts convulse, and I could have sworn that she vacuumed them toward her pulling mouth, that all my insides were flowing out through my shitter, but the strange idea passed quickly because I had something else to concentrate upon then. David had begun to fuck me.
"This is what you wanted, Nanette," he whispered as he broke into his pace, "but I'm not giving it to you because you begged me for it. I'm fucking you because it gives me pleasure to fuck you. Your pussy is wet and tight, and it's not deep enough to take me without a little pain. Pain for you. I don't feel any pain but I can see in your eyes that you do. It delights me to see that pain, Nanette - to know that even as you find pleasure bouncing on my rod, you're also hurting and aching. So, take this, Nanette, my precious little toy-girl. Take this, and this, and this, and this . . . " And I was taking it, bouncing and bobbing and rocking up and down as he fucked me and fucked me and fucked me. He couldn't get much withdrawal, because of the way I was strapped fast to the beams, but he more than made up for it with the fury of his short strokes. It felt as if he were tossing me up into the air, the way a bull tosses a clumsy matador, then lunging up to follow that toss with a deep stroke that made my guts jiggle and shiver, and I'd come down upon him, my legs twitching around his waist, our bodies joined so hotly, so tightly that I wondered if he'd ever be able to extract his pecker, once this fuck was over.
Or did I care? What realization swept across me as I fucked him, as Marjie continued to play with my ass and thighs (she couldn't keep an oral grip on my anus now, because David was bouncing me about too friskily). Her fingers caressed the super-splayed lips of my twat as her brother's cock slicked in and out, and she rubbed eagerly at my clitoris, sending through me spurts of excited pleasure that made me melt all the more sluttishly against David when our bodies came together.
As I said, he wasn't really slamming me with the full length and thickness of his cock on each stroke. It was more like a series of quick, short, darting penetrations, and probably no more than three or four inches of his prick actually moved in and out of my slice, but God in heaven, they were enough!
He was vicious in his fucking, there was not the meagerest trace of gentleness in the way he gave me cock, and the rampant self-centered force of his screwing was more than matched by the cruel bites and finger flits that Marjie visited upon my pussy and the nuts and root of her brother's dong. This, I thought as I took it, this is what I've always dreamed sex could be like! And now that it's happening, now that I'm in the embrace of Rhett Butler rather than Ashley Wilkes, what should I do? What should I say? What should I think? Marjie's finger coursed into my twat, ramming alongside her brother's shotgun pecker play, and it seemed to split my cunt to the breaking point. I was so goddamned full of him that there was no room for her, and I screamed wildly, rocking up and down, mad to escape the superfluous presence of Marjie's finger but not willing-god, not willing!-to escape too far. I sank down again, and it was both of them in me, his prick, her middle finger, and my cunny flooded hot goo around them, hot girl-juice that leaked from my gash and wetted David even more lubriciously as he screwed and screwed and screwed.
"Pretty, pretty, pretty," Marjorie cooed, and then her teeth closed upon the flesh of my ass, closed like a piranha's teeth, dug into me, mauled me, drew blood. Oh, I knew I was bleeding from her teeth, knew that my ass was staining red where -she chewed upon me without mercy, and I was full of them, full of these mad, perverted, incestuous twins, and I felt my cunt explode, explode like it had never done before, and I was nothing but a cunt, a maddened, swampy, volcano-bursting cunt that contracted and contracted--Contracted, oh, God, until I was so tight, so achingly, chokingly tight around his cock, her finger, trying to spit them out, trying at the same time to suck them up-I didn't know what I wanted to do, and I hadn't time even to care, for my head was exploding too . . . my head and my heart... my ovaries on fire . . . my body a pulsating cone of passion, of liquid fire. It had never been this good-never-could never be this good again. I could die now, knowing that once, at least, it had been so sweet, so hot, so pussy-wrenching, so . . . so ...
"JHEESSSSUUUUUSSSS!!" I screamed, rocking on David's quivering, thrusting dong, my ass bumping down, rising up, bumping down again upon Marjie's hungry mouth. "COME-COME- COME INSIDE MEEEEE!!! OOOHHHHH, GODDD!! I'M COMMMM-" And then I didn't have to say anymore - couldn't, in fact, say anymore. I was nothing. Nothing but a toy, a toy that had been wound up and turned on and was totally out of control. They'd done this to me, goddamn them, David and Marjie, and I still didn't know why-only knew that it had happened-that it was happening- And still that huge cock of his was buried in me, gouging the hell out of my tender pussy-even more tender now, thanks to the explosion of sensuality that had made everything else in the universe seem minor by comparison - and he was ragingly erect, still fucking, just as his sister's wicked finger was still in me, doing cruel but oh so lovable things to my body, and my legs were wrapped around him and I just humped and humped and humped, sucking that dick up my raging channel, sucking the finger too, my lips fluttering, tears rolling from my eyes, my boobs heaving, the nipples so stiff and brittle that if anyone had touched them, the rosy buds would certainly have broken off.
Marjie pulled her finger from my hole, and suddenly I seemed less full, though it was only an illusion. David's cock inside me was more pecker than most women could dream of taking, and he still hadn't come. I was radiantly orgasmic, almost totally lost in my own private world of sex and beauty and magic, but vaguely, distantly, I could hear Marjorie Buckley tell her brother, "Me now, me now! You've blasted her off! Now give it to me!"
And then I slumped and slouched, and I realized that my legs were loosening-being loosened-from their hold on David's waist. "No . . . no . . . please ... keep fucking . . . don't stop . . Jesus .. . don't ever stop . . .
As if my wishes mattered. I was their toy. They'd already made that clear, with words, with their bodies- My feet banged against the floor and I sank, sank until the leather bands snapped tight and it felt as if my arms would be torn from their sockets. "AAAAHHHH!!" I cried, hurting, but still trapped in the mystic world of orgasm, an orgasm that didn't want to stop.
David's cock was gone from my dripping cooze, and he was stepping back, turning to the side, profiling himself in front of me, that cunt-slick dong thrust outward, imperious and arrogant in its unrelieved erection.
Marjorie was still on the floor, and I saw now that she had all the fingers of one hand buried in her shaven slit. And I mean buried! She was wrist-deep in herself, legs twitching as she fed that fist up her nookie, and her eyes were glazed with lust and arousal. She looked at me, groaning, and I could sense that it was true. To her, as to her brother, I was only a toy for their gratification. They had used me. Now they had needs and desires of their own to fulfill and I could swing on these leather wrist-bindings till hell froze over, if the mood struck Marjie and David.
She reached up, taking hold of his cock where it jutted up, and her hand slid up and down him. I could see my pussy juices glistening on his penile length, and she sopped them up with her palm. "Aaaaahhhh," she moaned, bringing that hand to her mouth. She licked the hollow of her palm, licked it greedily, sluttishly, and a twinge of wistful envy shot through my groin. Oh, Jesus, if I hadn't known before, I knew it now!
I wanted to be there, with them, making love. I didn't want to be tied up here, watching, my body jerking as ripples of that nonstop come kept making my twat a study in the mixture of pain and unimaginable pleasure blended into one indescribable emotion. I wanted to roll lustfully on the floor with David and Marjie, feel each of their bodies rubbing against mine. I wanted to slip my fingers into her shaven cunt, lick the dripping juices from her bare petals, suck honey from the churning depths of her body. And I wanted him, too, wanted his dong imbedded in my snatch just one more time, wanted to massage him in the rippling tunnel of my sex till he exploded, spewing, vomiting Ms cum so far into my body that the hot viscous milk rose up my throat and seeped from my lips and ears and nostrils.
But I couldn't, for I was tied fast in those leather bands that held my wrists, and I quivered and convulsed in their power, bound securely in the captive's frame that held me, and I watched, my tongue hanging out, as Marjie lifted onto her knees (still fist-fucking herself) and opened her mouth to receive David's cock. Last night I'd thought it only a dream, but this time I knew it was real. She sucked him in, swallowed him, and her bobbing head completely enveloped the overgrown bulk of David's dick. For the longest moment she was on him, down on him, kissing his balls and groin while she trapped his cock in her oozing mouth. I felt a tightness in my guts as I watched, and I tried to imagine how it would be for that cock to be in my mouth, fucking my throat as cruelly, as complacently, as efficiently, as it had fucked my aching pussy. "Me," I whispered, "let me try .. . please but apparently they didn't hear me. Marjie kept her head there, all of his tool in her, and slowly, oh god, so slowly, she lifted her face, the sopping rigidity of his prick creeping from the sweet trap of her lips.
"Me-" I said it again, and the itch between my legs was like the bite of an insect. I wanted to scratch it, yet my hands were firmly bound and I could do nothing. Nothing. Except watch, with tear-filled, lusting eyes.
CHAPTER SIX
Marjie sucked him furiously, and his cock was red from the scraping of her teeth, the friction of her lips. Spittle dripped from her ovaled mouth, and she was leaving on David's throbbing flesh the same pink lipstick she'd planted on my titties last night. Oh, God, my titties! They were aching too, and I wanted nothing more from life at that moment than to caress them with my immobilized hands, to pull and pinch my nipples till I screamed, but above all, to watch-She raised her face, triumph gleaming from her pale skin. Her cheeks were flushed crimson, stunning contrast to the ivory whiteness of the rest of her complexion, and she ground that masturbating fist into her pussy with a vengeance. I saw her shoulders shake as she hit herself deeply, where it really counted, really struck home, and I could share that feeling with her because I'd done it to myself often enough, God knew.
"For the love of shit," I wailed, "untie me! Don't make me watch! Let me ... let me ... " Neither of them had time to listen to me. Marjie pried her fist from her pussy-and when it was empty, that snatch looked so trim and tiny it was hard to believe she'd just had a little fist buried deep within its shaven portals-and she took her brother's hands, pulling him to the floor. He kissed her cunt-sticky fingers as he knelt, and then he was lying down, on his back, his dick sticking up in unrelieved erection. Oh, Christ, he'd fucked me to numbness with that erection, and now he was going to fuck his sister, too!
"God yes," Marjie sighed, her voice a tiny whisper in the large room. "Look at her, darling David, she's taking it all in. Look at her eyes! How large, how pretty! The adorable way her tits shake! She can't control her breathing. Not now. Not when she knows that you're going to fuck me, too. Oh, David, sweetest-fuck me now! I think she'll come again, just looking at us!"
She could read me like a book, it seemed, and every word she said was true. Too, too true. My eyes were bulging, I was hyperventilating, and cream dripped down my legs where it had seeped from the lips of my pussy. David Buckley and his sister had fucked me into near madness, but the idea of watching them now, of watching them fuck one another while I stared open-eyed from my enforced captivity-oh, my stomach was fluttering like it was full of a zillion buzzing insects and my clit throbbed without the need of anyone's digital stimulation.
"Fuck him," I groaned. "For God's sake, fuck him! Let me watch you fuck him! Please???!!!"
Marjie looked at me triumphantly. "Of course," she husked. "I'll fuck him and you can watch and pretend that it's you, getting it all over again. But it won't be you. I'm the one who's going to get this cock, all of it, all twelve and a half inches. It will fill my pussy, Nanette darling, and yours will simply have to imagine, to remember. Oh, Godddd!!!"
And with that she straddled her brother's supine body. He took her by one hand, and she used the other to line up her cooze and his cock. He had only to brush against the mouth of her shaven twat, it seemed, and then she plummeted downward, her snatch sucking him up. Marjie slammed down upon her brother's groin, her ass quivering as she rocked from side to side, immersing his prick in her pussy.
"God," she moaned, "you're deeper than you've ever been before, David darling darling David. It's like fucking you for the very first time-oh, Christ, do you remember the first time? Feel me all around you, all wet and slick and hot? I'm coming already, you big-cocked bastard, I'm coming just before you're in me and you're big and hard and hot as a poker and because you're my brother and we shouldn't be doing this because it's wicked and naughty and evil and how can it be evil, darling, when it feels good. Oh, God, feels so good ... so right, so proper. Don't tell Mama. Don't tell Papa-they wouldn't understand. They'd spank us and separate us. You'd have to go to Montreal to school, and they'd probably send me down to the states and we might never see each other again, never be able to do this again-oh, how did you :ver get so big? Men aren't supposed to be that big. You're a horse, not a man. Oh, God, David, feed me your horse cock!"
"AAAGGGGHHHH!!" I screeched, wailing till my ears rang and my throat ached. It was too much! I couldn't stand it! Unaided by anything except visual stimulation, my body erupted another time, erupted as savagely, as irresistibly as it had when David was fucking me and Marjie biting my ass like a barracuda. I jerked in the ropes that constrained me, and my cunt twitched and caught afire and I was coming again, really coming, my puss oozing hot milk, cream that ran down my legs, made the hairs of my snatch a matted tangle of silky curling wetness, and I slumped once more, slumped in my bonds and slumped in spite of the leather thongs that tore the flesh of my wrists and made slumping an agony I could not have borne if it hadn't been for the magical sense of atomic bombs going off in my pussy, and Marjie Buckley was riding up and down on her brother's long thick tool, her face no longer ivory but now flushed a bloody crimson, her big breasts heaving and shaking, their nipples a mile long thrust from the caps of those tits, David sighing and groaning and gasping as he fed his cock up her tubes, filling her with his inflated manhood, making her cry out-"Aaaaaahhhh!" as she came and came and came and came, and I knew that it was better for her, better than those fingers that had been delving in her pussy, better than anything else in all the world, because it had been good for me-better for me-oh, Christ-He threw her back, knocking her completely off his penis, and that red swollen sausage glistened from her cunny fluids as it had glistened from mine. Marjie sank back onto her haunches, and her shaven cunt gleamed between her widespread thighs. She clamped a hand upon her mons and a long slender finger crept-God, it slammed!-into her crease and, as she went onto her back, propping herself up with an elbow, her finger moved in and out of her cunt a mile a minute.
"I'm going to come in your mouth," David said through clenched teeth, grabbing his cock. "I'm going to drown you with my cum. I've fucked you, and I've fucked our sweet little Nanette, and now my balls are aching and I have to get rid of this load or I'll never be able to fuck anything, anyone else again. Ask me to fuck your mouth, Marjie sister. Ask me to pour my seed down your gulping throat."
"Goddamn you, if you don't, I'll kill you!" she moaned. "I'll cut your balls off and then I'll cut your cock off too, and-and-oh, for the love of God-let her see how you can fuck your sister's hungry mouth!"
He moved swiftly, as if he were in a great hurry, and I suppose he really was. After all, he'd screwed me for what seemed an eternity, and Marjie had used both her mouth and her twat upon him. And her fucking had been frantic, as fast and frantic as the hot, homy words that burst from her wide lips while she rode his prick. He'd already been up a long time, and I knew from my own experience with men that the more protracted the fuck, the greater the need for release.
Give it to her, I thought. Oh, goddamn her! Give it to me! "David darling," I moaned, struggling with my leather bonds. "David!"
He wasn't listening. He slipped astride his fallen sister's chest and he squatted down upon those swollen, white-flesh tits of hers, and he aimed his cock at her open, eager mouth. She met him better than halfway, tongue shooting out to lick him as he approached, and then the tip of his pecker was in her mouth and she was sucking furiously, her eyes shut tightly, her cheeks puffing out, pulling in, as she gobbled every inch of David that she could fit into her mouth at this awkward angle.
How she managed to eat as much of him as she did, I don't know. He thrust deeply, and it seemed that he shoved at least six inches of his cock into Marjie's sucking mouth, and her eyes bulged inside their closed lids. Oh, Christ, I could taste him too, taste him in my own mouth! Or maybe it was only the sweat that ran down my face in torrents, some of it dripping into my mouth as I moaned and writhed and fought energetically my leather bonds, wishing, praying, that somehow the leather would snap and break and I could throw myself upon them, join them in their lurid sports. Oh, ohhhh-I'd give Marjorie a run for the money when it came to scarfing her brother's joint! By God, I would! I'd rip it from her grappling lips, stuff it into my own mouth, and suck till the honey of his nuts flowed into me, ran down my throat instead of hers-oh, Jesus, I would! I would! Only the chance-that was all I needed-the chance- "Mmmmm," she grunted, and then David grunted too, and he leaned forward, pushing his cock at her mouth, and from where I stood in helpless bondage I could see his semen begin to leak from the corners of her lips as he gave her more, so much more, than she could possibly swallow unaided.
Marjie purred and hummed and trilled, and the cum kept flowing into her mouth. It flowed out again too, and though I saw her throat make gulping motions where she was swallowing his load, I knew that more of it was geysering from her lips, flowing down her chin, coating the lower part of her face with wasted cum that no one would ever get to taste, to drink-But I could! If only I weren't tied and helpless! I'd throw myself upon Marjie, and I'd kiss her and lick her and drink David's jism from her skin until my tongue was thick and coated with Ids spewed cum, and not a drop would go to waste-not a single drop. God, I'd lie on my belly like a dog and lick it up from the floor!
He pulled his dick from her clutching lips and he spewed more of the stuff, lashings of cum flying from his dick, hanging in long thick banners that swayed and waved and eventually hit Marjorie on the nose or chin or lips, and her tongue was batting at them, scooping them toward her mouth, even while he poured the final spurts of his discharge onto her flushed and beautiful face and she reached up gratefully, smearing the sperm over her skin, massaging it into the pores, soaking up all he could give her, obviously as eager and hungry for more as I'd have been if our positions were reversed then.
Ohhhh-none of it was right or proper or moral. He was her brother, she his sister, and me? Well, I was their toy and their prisoner, a slave to whatever freaked-out passions might arouse either of the Buckleys. But when did morality every mean anything? Did Chingiz Khan worry about morality, or Louis XIV, or Madame Pompadour, or Sappho of Lesbos, or Tina Russell, or anybody who'd ever counted in this world? And I might not be important, in the overall picture of human history, but I mattered a hell of a lot to me, and I knew only that this insane day's activities had me fully in thrall, that I would never again, so long as I lived, be the same Nanette Dolan who'd so innocently knocked on the door of this house last evening after running out of gas down the road. And no amount of money could have paid me to have it any other way!
"Look at her," Marjorie said after what seemed an hour but couldn't have been, for cum was still dripping from her sexy mouth. She wiped herself with the back of a hand, licked away the precious fluids she'd scooped up. Beside her David knelt, his cock red and deflating but still bigger, longer, thicker than any cock I'd ever experienced. When he stood up, his soft organ hung halfway down his legs, or so it seemed to me, and I wondered if it would rise again, given the right kind of stimulation, the kind of stimulation I knew I could provide him if only he'd take me out of my bonds, allow me to fall on my knees before him, to worship his beautiful prick with my hands and my mouth and everything else I had to offer.
"Oh," I moaned, slouching in my restraints, "you've had your fun-now won't you please let me go? These straps are killing me ... I can't move .. . can hardly breathe-" Marjie rose, smiling like a Renaissance Madonna. For a moment my eyes focused on that smile, and then I stared downward, at her heavy, swollen tits, at her slender waist and hips, at the red gash of pussy so visible where the hair had been shaven away. "What will you do for us if we untie you?" she asked, planting a hand on each hip and tilting her head to one side. "What can you offer us?" "Anything," I whispered. "I'll do anything you ask me to do. Oh, God, I'll do everything-" "Will you lick my pussy?" she wanted to know.
I looked at her slice again, gulping. I'd never done anything like that before, but it didn't seem to matter. "Yes," I said, "yes, I'll lick your pussy just the way you licked mine. I'll suck your clit until you come like a river into my mouth, and I'll drink it up, drink it till you're dry and can't give me any more, and then I'll suck you and lick you again, and I'll bite your clit until you scream and flood me all over again-" "What does that make you?" David interjected, putting an arm around his sister's waist. They clung together there, facing me, looking exactly like the twins they were, and both of them so beautiful and sexy and desirable that my guts ached with lust for the brother and the sister alike. "What does that make you, to us, Nanette, darling?"
"What does it... I don't know . . . your friend ... your lover ... I... I... " Marjie slipped free of David and came to me. She grabbed my tits and gave them agonizing, wrenching tweaks. My nipples throbbed where her palms covered them, and she was like steel pliers on my flesh. I think I loved it.
"It makes you our slave, doesn't it?" she whispered, face so close to mine that I could smell the cum on her breath. "It makes you our obedient, self-effacing slave. Tell me you're my slave, Nanette. Tell me that you belong to me."
"Ouch! Oh, God, yes, Marjie-I'm your slave! I'm your dog! Do you want me to bark? I'll bark!
Owwwwwwllll!! But untie me before my arms tear off. Please!"
And then I felt a new kind of agony, one that I hadn't really given much thought to yet, what with the strangeness of this experience. "Please," I repeated. "I think I have to pee."
Marjie's eyebrows lifted, and she smiled at her brother. "Our slave has to piss," she said. David smiled too, and he came closer. Marjie put her hand in my crotch and she covered me with her fingers, closing them on the flesh, squeezing till my eyes watered. "Untie her, David," she said authoritatively.
While David undid my bonds, Marjie allowed me to prop against her strong young body, and I slouched there a moment after I'd been freed, not quite able to move. The burning needs of my bladder cut through the lack of mobility, and I took a step on my own, astonished to find that I still had the power to walk. "Oh, where's the bathroom?" I asked hastily, grimacing as I tried to hold it back.
Marjie put a hand on the flat of my back and she shoved at me. I wasn't ready for it, and I couldn't keep my balance. I went sprawling as she pushed, and the floor sprang up to meet me. At almost the same moment I hit, I lost control of my bladder and piss began to stream from my pussy. Sobbing for shame, I lay there, heaving with each gush that flowed down my legs, and a pool of urine formed beneath me on the floor.
I looked up, ready to apologize. "I'm sor-" David was aiming his cock at me. I knew, but too late, what he meant to do, and I could only close my eyes in defense as he sprayed me with his urine, drenching me from head to waist. I could feel it on my face, and I even tasted some of it between my lips as I sobbed and moaned and tried to speak my feeble protests.
He pissed freely, and the floor grew wetter beneath me. A thick yellow river of urine gushed down upon me, and when he was finished, he shook his cock mightily, splattering me with the last remaining drops of his kidney fluids. The smell was strong, and at first I thought I'd surely be sick, but I wasn't.
And then Marjie stepped toward me as well. I hadn't gotten up from the floor yet, and she straddled where I crouched, reaching down to split the tight, red lips of her hairless gash. From it came still another flood of piss, and this time I took it square in the face, the liquid blasting me as though it were shot from a firehose. I moaned and covered my eyes, and she washed my hair with her urine, my hair and my face and my body, and I was foul with my own accidental discharge and their intentional brand of degradation.
"You're filthy," Marjorie announced, stepping back. "A filthy, disgusting girl. David, take her to the bathroom and give her a mop. I want this mess cleaned up at once!"
"Of course!" David agreed, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. "Come along with me. You'll have to be punished for that, Nanette, but first you'll have to mop the floor. And make sure you get it clean. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, master," I heard myself saying, and the words didn't sound at all strange. In fact, they felt very natural coming from my lips, ringing in my ears, and I followed him to the bathroom with honest obedience.
When we returned, Marjie was at the other end of the room, rummaging inside that cabinet I'd noticed earlier. I looked at her twitching bare ass while she explored, and I felt a lust building in my heart, a burning passionate lust for that sexy, slender big-breasted girl, that sister who fucked her brother, that bitch who had eaten me, pissed on me, treated me like an animal, and I wanted her then, wanted her with all my heart and soul. Clutching the broom, I took a step in her direction, but David Buckley reminded me of my duties.
He slapped me on the ass and pointed to the thick puddle of urine on the floor. "Clean it up," he said. "Clean it all up."
I nodded dutifully and began to mop the floor, scrubbing until the piss was only a glimmer of one-time moisture on the boards. I didn't dare let up until he had spoken his approval, and when he did, it seemed that I flushed with a kind of pride in a job well-done.
"NANETTE!!" I heard Marjie say, and I turned around, hoping that she too would wish to compliment me for my work.
"You've been a naughty girl," she announced firmly, "and now you must be punished for it." In her hands was a small whip, and she fondled it as she approached me.
But the whip wasn't all. Around her hips she'd attached a strange-looking harness. It was made up of interlocking leather belts, one encircling her waist, the other running like a G-string between her legs, with a kind of buckle where the belts intersected low down her front. The buckle was circular, empty in the middle so that her pale flesh showed through.
It took me a moment longer to realize that she wasn't entirely naked now. She was wearing hip-high boots of black leather, too, glossy, shiny boots with high heels that lifted her inches taller than her normal six feet, and I felt my neck straining as I looked up, trying to read her face and discern her intentions.
Marjie raised her hand, then flicked out with the whip. It stung when it grazed my flesh, but it didn't really hurt. Still, I jerked at the impact, and turned around quickly, averting my eyes from hers. She flicked me again, this time on the bare buttocks, and the sting was a little more intense, though it did not last more than a second or two.
"Did she clean up her mess?" Marjie asked.
"Yes," I heard David say. "You can see for yourself."
"She shouldn't have made it in the first place. Should you, Nanette, sweetest?" Again she tapped me with the end of the whip, and I jerked in panic.
"No!" I moaned. "I should have been more careful.' � no "Exactly," Marjie said flatly. She came closer. "And this is to remind you that you should always be clean and careful and obedient." I turned slowly. "Here," Marjorie announced. She held up the butt of the whip. "Kiss it. Prove to me that you understand, that you respect my authority."
I kissed the whip, and I kissed her bare fingers too, and I don't know what I was thinking. My head was in turmoil. "I.,. . I'll do anything you want me to," I murmured, stroking her hand.
I looked down. Her legs were beautiful in their natural state, but now, clad in those glossy black boots that reached almost to her pussy and fit her like a coating of black skin, they were the loveliest sight I had ever seen. Without being asked, I knelt and laid my head against one of those boots, folding my arms around her leg. It seemed a natural thing to do-as natural as anything else that had happened since the moment I entered this strange house last evening.
"David, dearest," she said above me, "will you go to the cabinet and get the rest of the equipment? I think Nanette is ready for her second lesson."
CHAPTER SEVEN
"My . . . my . . . ?" I didn't understand what she meant, but it was so strangely comforting to kneel before Marjie, my cheek caressing the black leather of her boot, my arms wrapped around her slender, well-shaped leg. And I could look up, too, look up into the daintily parted, rosy slice of her hairless pussy, remembering how it had felt when she rubbed it against mine, wondering if it could be half so exciting to lick her and suck her and rummage with my tongue in her pussy as it had been when she did that to me. Nibbling my lips, I allowed a hand to creep toward her, wanting only to touch her slick, clean gash, to find out if it felt as juicy, as tempting, as it looked.
"I didn't give you permission!" she said harshly, and the handle of the whip cracked across my knuckles. It was a sharp stinging blow and I withdrew my hand, mumbling apologies.
"Up!" Marjie went on, nudging me with the blunted end of the whip handle. Reluctantly I let go of her leg and scrambled to my feet, shaking my hair back from my face. Marjie tapped the whip against her hand and she stared at me with barricaded eyes whose intention I could neither read nor guess. Dark, flashing eyes, eyes that hypnotized me, or so it felt, for I stared back into them, sensed myself falling into those black pools, merging my being with hers.
Across the room I heard the sound of a door closing. It was David, gone to the cabinet as his sister had instructed. "To get the rest of the equipment," she said. What did that mean? I couldn't look away from her as his bare feet drew nearer and nearer. I stared at Marjie and she stared at me, and only when David touched my shoulder did the spell loosen its hold.
"Come with us," he said, taking my hand, and then we were walking, all three of us, back across the room. Past the frame where I'd been strapped and fucked by both the strange twins, and my heart beat a little more easily when we had gone past that object, for I'd been half afraid they meant to tie me in it once more, and . . . Oh, God, it wasn't that I didn't want to do, to be done, but my wrists still hurt and I didn't know if I could endure another session in that rack.
We stopped directly in front of the padded sawhorse-like object I'd noticed earlier. The padding was a thick leather cushion, rounded on top, smooth to look at, a rich morocco in color. "Lean over and touch your toes," David commanded. "Let your stomach rest on the cushion."
He stepped around to the other side and I saw that he was holding a pair of large silk scarves, one red and one blue. Under his arm was a black case-about the size of my high-school flute case, I noticed. He handed the box to Marjie and I heard her foot tap-tap-tapping on the floor. There must have been a little piece of metal at the toe of her boot, for she clicked like a tap dancer, and almost as rhythmically.
"Bend over!" she snapped, and the whip snapped too, lashing my nearest buttock with its wicked leather tip. I winced, for it was a cruel blow, but I bent over, leaning across the leather-padded sawhorse, and I stretched, so that my toes and my fingers touched. David knelt before me and, before I understood what he was doing, he tied me with those scarves, binding each hand to the opposite foot in a tight-knotted silk strap.
Marjie joined him, and together they opened the little black case. It had reminded me of my flute case, but inside was no musical instrument. Instead, she brought forth something that made me gasp in astonishment.
It was a vividly lifelike rubber penis, replica of a cock in full erection, the knobby tip enormous and deep purple in color, the shaft red and heavily veined. I could stare at that awesome tool-it must have been ten inches long, and nearly as thick as David Buckley's gigantic pecker-and imagine it full of real blood pulsing madly through those delineated veins, not to mention the heat, the fleshy throbbing heat. Oh, I'd seen dildoes in X-rated movies, and I knew a girl in college who owned a cylindrical vibrator she admitted using on herself occasionally, but I'd never had the tip of my nose only eighteen inches from a real pseudo-pecker, and it was difficult for me to remember that this was indeed pseudo, that it wasn't a real live dick.
"This," said Marjie, "is to be your next master, Nanette." She caressed the rubber prick, caressed it as lovingly as she'd stroked her brother's authentic dong, and I felt a lump in my throat. Was she going to. .. Jesus, was she going to use that on me? Why? My God, why? I asked her. "Because it gives me pleasure, Nanette. Because you're my slave and I want to fuck you. I want to make you come. I want to feel your ass thumping back, sucking up his rubber penis, begging me for more of it, begging me to screw you blind, deaf and dumb. And that's what you're going to do, my precious. You're going to beg me for this cock, just the way you begged David for his."
It was then that I understood why her harness possessed that circular opening where the straps joined. She posed for me like a hundred-dollar-an- hour model, showing me how that rubber cock fitted - fitted perfectly-into the opening. And then she lifted her arms and displayed herself. The rubber dick jutted up from its lodgment in her supporting strap, and the effect was stunning. "Oh my God," I whispered, my eyes full of her. That perfect face, the full, heavy woman's tits, the slender woman's waist-and the fat, ferocious cock. She needed only a set of balls to make the effect total and incredible.
Marjie strutted, bedecked with her imitation pecker. She strutted back and forth, turning in profile so I could see how boldly her cock stuck up, and she gasped it in a hot fist, working her hand up and down the rubber shaft just like a man anxious to jerk off his hornies. I laughed, for it was so incongruous. That was a mistake.
"Laughing?" she said, turning, her eyes aflame. "Laughing at your mistress? I'll teach you not to laugh, Nanette!"
She marched toward me, rubber cock shaking as she moved. "Kiss it," she announced. "Kiss my prick."
Marjie grabbed me by the hair of the head and snapped my face up. As I moved, she did too, that rubber penis banging me on the nose and upper lip. "Kiss it," she repeated. "Kiss it and suck it."
"Ohhhh," I groaned, for it hurt. She smiled to hear me cry out and she jerked harder on my hair, till tears welled in my eyes. The taste of rubber already coated my lips and I could do no worse by obeying Yet there was something I liked very much in the way she pulled my hair, something which caused my pussy to shiver and my titties to harder. "Nnnnn," and the protest worked. She yanked my hair again and I felt the same delicious responses in my body, upon which I opened my mouth and let her shove inside.
I sucked at the tip of the rubber phallus, sucked it like a lollipop with little slurps and smacks and whimpers, and it didn't taste bad at all. There was a rubbery flavor, yes, but not an unpleasant rubbery flavor, and as soon as I began to suck dutifully, Marjie left off pulling my hair. Her fingers slid down my face in slow, sensuous glides that made me feel nearly as good as the hair-pulling had. I breathed heavily as I ate her toy cock, and it seemed appropriate, somehow, for the Buckley twins' human toy to be mouthing the Buckley girl's rubber toy. Abruptly she pulled it from my mouth and my head slumped down. Drool leaked from my lips and sighed.
"Very good," she said. "You can't suck very deeply, but you have a certain intensity that promises much. I only hope that you can deliver on that promise, Nanette. I hope that for your sake. Because while I fuck you, you're going to suck David, and, as you're already aware, he isn't small. But he expects a first-rate blowjob. If you can't give him one, you'll have to be punished like the naughty girl you are."
I gulped, this time in dread. I'd seen his cock, felt it inside me unbelievably swollen. And I'd seen Marjorie sucking it, with all but the goddamned nuts rammed down her throat. I couldn't do that. It was far beyond my capabilities. But he'd want it. Oh, God, what might they do to me if I failed?
She moved away, and as her boots clicked on the smooth hard floor, David moved into position before me. His cock was soft, but Jesus so long! and he lifted its limp barrel toward my mouth as an offering. "You heard your mistress," he said softly. "Suck your master's cock."
The tip was large even though it hadn't ballooned out from the flow of hot lusty blood, and he presented it to me for kissing. I closed my eyes and kissed the head of David's tool, tasting for the first time his own peculiar male flavor. No two men taste alike. I hadn't exactly gone down on the Sixth Fleet, but I'd been with enough men to know that basic fact. There are subtle differences in the taste of the pecker flesh, in the mask of their pre-cum, in the hot thick milk of the semen itself. And David Buckley's taste could only be described as splendid. I licked his flesh with more eagerness, and I recalled thinking: No wonder his sister can't keep her hands and mouth off him! Delicious-so delicious...
And then hands were petting my ass, where my awkward, tied-down posture made it lift like a display piece, and I knew that Marjie was behind me, stepping into position for the weird fuck she'd promised me. I should have been worried. Yesterday morning, if someone had suggested any of this to me, I would have been horrified. But today, having gone through so much already, with so much more (oh, God!) awaiting- I wasn't horrified. In fact, as I felt Marjie begin to stroke my bare, twitching pussy with the end of her rubber dildo, I was excited. More excited, I think, than I had ever been in my twenty-six years of life. David's cock began to fill up where he pressed it on my lips and my tongue grew more avid, more lecherous upon him.
If I had a regret then, it was that my hands were tied and I could not take hold of his pecker, could not feel each individual bubble of blood and lust that conspired to make him harder and harder, made that giant soft-on swell into an enormous hard-on. All I could do was lick it and kiss it, and by God, I compensated! I licked him like a cat and I kissed him with loud, voracious smacks, and soon I felt the tingle of his pre-cum on my snaking tongue.
"Is she good?" Marjie asked from behind me, still teasing my pussy with the head of her false cock. I was limited in my movements but somehow I managed to wiggle my ass, to stroke that dildo even more wickedly than it stroked me. If it had been a real cock it would have been gushing cum all over my hips and crotch, but it was only rubber and it pressed on, still nuzzling me.
Only rubber? It didn't feel like rubber. Not any more. It was still wet from my mouth, and it grew hotter as it slid across my defenseless pussy, and my pussy wasn't exactly cold at that moment. No, not exactly. My slice itched and creamy girl-honey was thickening on the labia.
I'd have asked her to stick it in me, for God's sake, to give me the fucking she'd promised, but my mother always told me that a lady never speaks when her mouth is full. Perhaps Mom's reason was etiquette and courtesy. But I couldn't speak because my mouth was full of the hardest, hottest cock I'd ever wrapped my lips around, and not only could I not speak, I didn't fucking want to! I only wanted to suck and suck and suck, vacuuming that rigid prong as it slid further and further into my oral chamber.
"She's not bad," I heard David say. "But no one's as good as you."
"Don't ever forget that," Marjie sighed, rubbing against me with the tip of her dildo.
When I say that David's cock was in my mouth, you must understand that I mean part of his cock was in my mouth. If I hadn't seen him being deep-throated by his twin sister, I'd have rated this prick as totally impossible for a woman to eat. It was too big, too long, too thick. And, oh, Jesus, right now it felt too, too hard!
I had perhaps an inch and a half of him in me-most of it comprising the swollen head of David's cock. Swollen? It was like going down on a golf club. My lips had to stretch unimaginably to let him make entry, and that initial stretch was perhaps the most difficult part of it all. When he started to slide in, I didn't think it was possible, even though I'd seen Marjorie doing it not an hour ago. But I was hot-mouthed and ready, and I opened wide, just as if I'd been in a dentist's chair, and he got inside. And then, as if they were made of elastic, my stretched lips snapped back into place and I was wet tightness around him, my tongue flying all around the buried tip of David's penis.
"Wwwwwwhhh," It was all I could say, that muted, wordless mumble, and for the millionth time at least I wished that they hadn't tied me, that they'd left my hands free, that I weren't bent over this bolstered sawhorse.
For Marjie had gotten serious behind me. Where she had been at first only playing with my pussy through the use of her rubber cock, she was now beginning to slip it to me, and it killed me to be so limited in my responses.
"Raise your ass, Nanette!" she commanded and, as best I could in the situation, I raised my ass. And without being asked, I tried to spread my legs a little too, to make my pussy open just a hair wider for Marjie's ease.
She didn't need my assistance. I didn't have to twist and wriggle. "My snatch was full of melted cheese and her dildo was a sharp knife cutting through that swamp of wetness. Almost before could take a second breath around David's cock she was in me, and for the first time in my life, I was being fucked by another woman.
Oh, it didn't feel like another woman in me! felt like the biggest, hottest cock in the world slithering up my cummy chute, but how could have been, when the biggest hottest cock in the world was at that very moment trying to fuck its way into my mouth while I gaped inadequately to accept its thrust.
"Deeper, Nanette!" he told me, stroking my head with his slender, almost feminine fingers. Feminine? He was all man, and I had the proof of it trapped between my lips. I couldn't take him deeper-not yet, at least-but I couldn't let him go, either. Not when he swelled and throbbed and the heavy sweet-tasting weight of him lay upon the end of my tongue. If I could have moved freely, perhaps I could have taken him deeper-not as deeply as he wanted, but deep, all the same. I couldn't move, though. They'd seen to that, these strange twins, with their curious passions.
When it had all started, I'd been aloof, reluctant, terrified. But it had begun so abruptly, so mysteriously. If they'd simply come and asked me how I felt about making sex with them in kinky fashion-oh, God, I'd probably have told them to go to hell! Now, now that it was happening, I knew that this was the most fulfilling experience of my twenty-six years, that from the moment they'd tied me, started to use their hands and mouths and sex organs on me, I hadn't stopped lubricating, my body hadn't ceased its trembling and heaving, my mind had not let up in its quest for ultimate gratification. I could look back over my life-God, merely over my thoughts and doubts during the past few weeks and days-and see that in its own way this moment had been inevitable. I'd been looking for something exactly like this, looking for it all my life.
This was as unlike all my past sexual experience as anything could be. Not even the semi-rape of my defloration was in the same league. It was like I didn't count as a person, as a human being. I was nothing but a toy to the Buckley twins, and they used me as an object to gratify their own lusts. They didn't ask me how I felt about being tied, about being whipped, about being pissed on, about being double-teamed in mouth and pussy. They wanted to do it, and they were doing it. To me. While I writhed and wriggled and quivered in silky bonds, unable to prevent it, unable even to cry out a protest.
As if I felt like protesting. Somehow, as David's cock pushed at my willing but futile lips, as Marjie filled me with the rubber shaft of her dildo, I knew that I would not have it any other way. This was what I wanted, too, and I was getting it! Most of my life I'd been fairly aggressive, reasonably assertive, and I'd never found anyone willing to stand up against me. Perhaps I had been born with this moment in mind, this instant when I became the sexual slave of two people I had not known until last evening.
I writhed, my buttocks lurching back to bump against Marjie, and it was just as she had told me it would be. I couldn't beg her with my mouth because it was stuffed and crammed with her brother's cock, but I could beg her with my body, and she got the message. Her fingers pinched off little rolls of soft fat on my ass and she squeezed them as she began to feed her dildo in and out my twat in swift, merciless plunges.
My cunt seemed shorter than normal, or perhaps her dildo was longer than I had visually estimated. Whatever the reason, when she lunged forward and our flesh melted together, I was full of her, the swollen, bulbous rubber knob deep in my guts, the leather harness chafing the splayed lips of my twat as she rubbed me and rubbed me and rubbed me. No man had ever fucked me that excitingly, unless perhaps it was her brother David when I was tied and dangling between those two upright beams a little while ago. Certainly, I'd never known I was capable of such massive responsive stimuli until this day, this magical, wonderful day. If only she'd been capable of climaxing inside me, I think it would have been totally perfect. Totally.
But David's dick was in my mouth, and I knew that it was definitely capable of ejaculating, and though I couldn't suck up much of him, I did the best I could with what I had, and my lips were gnawing beasts just below the knob of his prong. As I massaged him, I brought my teeth gradually into play as well, nibbling slowly as I tested his response. He didn't seem to mind, so I made the teeth a little more active. Ouch! A cuff on the cheeks! I'd been too vigorous. I slacked up, keeping my clenched lips tight upon him, and I made up for it with a million billion tongue strokes that raced around the pulsating end of his pecker.
I was in my glory at that moment, both of them fucking me. If the room had been full of spectators I couldn't have been more conscious of myself, more intent upon doing the best job I could for both of them. I fucked back at Marjie as if her rubber dick were a penis of flesh and blood, capable of feeling the tumultuous ripples of my snatch, the oozy wetness inside me, the sucking snapping appeals of my cuntal mouth, and my reward was the brutal sweetness of her pinches on my ass. She liked my reaction! I knew it! She wouldn't pinch me that way if she didn't like it!
And David enjoyed it too. I was as sure of that as I was sure of my name. Nanette Dolan. Yes. I was Nanette Dolan. No. I wasn't. I was Nanette darling, Nanette pretty, Nanette precious, Nanette sweet, Nanette slave, and I must be a good slave. I must suck and fuck my masters until they begged me to stop, until they were drained and satisfied, until I'd proven to them my sincere devotion and surrender.
I surrendered! Oh, God, I surrendered! I sucked hard on David's cock, sucked like a hurricane, gasping as his massive penis strangled me, and all I wanted was for that penis to barf its cum into my mouth. I'd suck him dry. I wouldn't spill a drop of his precious fluid. When he came, I'd open my throat and swallow him the way a show-off truck driver chugs a pint of beer in his friendly neighborhood tavern, just to show the boys that he can handle it all in one swallow. And his cum would be so much tastier than beer, so much tastier than wine, sweeter than-oh, Jesus, sweeter than life itself! The milk of life, pouring freely into my mouth, filling me, scalding me-I wanted it!
Wanted it as much as I wanted the orgasm to which Marjorie was busily fucking me, and I wiggled my ass, beckoning her onward, encouraging her, pleading and imploring as I pleaded and implored her brother's rod. No! No! NOOOO!!!
Something was wrong. "Mmmmhhhh???" I gurgled around David's throbbing rod head, and I lurched backward, trying to re-impale myself on the rubber dick that was even then sliding from my oozing hole. Why was she taking it out? Why had she stopped? Couldn't she tell I was close, so, soooo close? Even now my ovaries were in a turmoil and the seeds of a blistering come ached to erupt down my female tubes.
"Sweet Nanette," Marjorie whispered, running hands across the trembling softness of my ass. "Sweet Nanette. Did you think it would be as easy as that? There are still more lessons you must learn, so many more."
She ran a slender finger up and down my crack and, as she'd done when I was tied between the two upright beams, she seemed to linger thoughtfully at my puckered red asshole. I squirmed when she fingered it more intently, but I wouldn't have cared-not then-if she'd gone ahead and thrust her finger up me. I think I was in the mood to enjoy even that final rape of my body, the taking away of my anal virginity.
The touch of her was soothing, in a way, that tiny fingertip prodding round and round, stroking me, tickling me, causing my ass to shake and twitch, and while I sucked on David I felt myself praying that she would relent and give me only a taste more of that rubber cock, bring me over the edge, make me explode! the way I was ready to explode. And then her finger was no longer touching my asshole. Something else. Something bigger. Oh, God! I realized what it was! She was trying to fuck me with her rubber dildo, trying to fuck me up the ass! "GAAAHHHHH!!" I warbled around David's prick, letting up for a moment on my crazy-mad tongueswipes, slacking for a moment the pressure of my lips. He almost fell from my mouth-I felt him sliding out-I knew he'd be upset if I allowed it to happen. Despite the tension of my anus I closed my mouth upon David and exerted even more sucking pressure, hoping he'd forgive me for that momentary lapse. God, I was going to be fucked in the asshole, if it was possible, and somehow I was sure that Marjie would make it possible. Could I prevent her? Did ... did I even want to prevent her? I didn't know, any longer. I didn't know.
"Oh, David," I heard her say, as if in a dream. "You should be the one to break her in. She's so tight, so red and puckered, so tight. I know she's never done it before. Look at the way she squirms. Trying to slide away, trying to slide back so I can ram my little cock up her asshole. Oh, darling, she's the very best of them all! The hottest, the easiest.. . oh .. . she's yielding ... I can feel her muscles trying to resist, but they can't. She's breaking down . . . giving way ... in a moment-" she gasped soulfully, "In a moment I'm going to be in her. I can see the ring spreading, spreading wider. My cocktip is pushing at it . . . pushing, David. I'm . . . I'm .. . ohhhhhh-" and she slumped against me then, her dildo breaking through the clutching ring of my anal muscles as she rammed all ten inches of the rubber penis through my asshole and deep into my body.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Once I read a dirty book in which a girl came like a goddamned fountain the instant a guy slid his dick up her asshole, and after reading that chapter I just sat back shaking my head. How could something like that ever happen? I mean, they were close, sure, but what did the ass and the pussy really have to do with one another? Clitoral and vaginal stimulation-that was what made a woman come. God! I thought I knew it all, back then.
As Marjie Buckley filled me with her pliable rubber dildo, I found out how something like that could ever happen, by God!
It wasn't just the unbelievably rough penetration of the rubber dick, slamming its way into a hole that had never been traveled except by shit leaving my body-oh, sure, that helped! I mean, I was tight and she just clawed her way up me in a fashion that couldn't help but turn on anyone who was already turned on the way I was-turned on by the whole idea of what they were doing to me. But remember, she'd also been fucking me up the snatch with that dildo, fucking like a man, and the lips of my swampy twat were still raw and quivering from her interlude between them. I was ready. That's all. Just ready. So I came. Like a goddamned fountain.
"She's coming, David sweetest," Marjie tittered, still fucking me anally. She didn't let up the intensity of her strokes despite the way my anal muscles clenched and squeezed, squeezed as if they meant to break in two the nasty rubber prick that shot up me, up me, up me, shot up me till I could swear it was ramming up my throat and driving through my mouth wrong way out, toward the immersed end of David's tool.
"I know," David replied, running his fingers through my hair as I moaned around his cock. I couldn't do much in the area of sucking now, not the way I felt. I wanted to clench my teeth and scream through them, scream from the very pit of my being, but how could I, with his cock in my mouth, separating my teeth, with his hands reminding me that he could be cruel as well as sweet unless I minded my manners.
Through it all, I had not felt so much like a slave as I did then. My lower body was erupting violently, cum oozing in torrents from the lips of my puss, and the mouth of my ass was sopping wet too, as if it were also squirting out thick milky woman's cream. And Marjie kept thrusting through that increasing anal wetness, filling me time after time with the ass-busting bulk of her oversized diddle stick.
While. at the same time I was trying to be a dutiful slave and suck oh so prettily, so sweetly, on David's penis lest I bite him and rouse his anger the way I'd done before, and though I could feel him throbbing between my clenched lips, it wasn't right, wasn't the way it should be! I wanted to be free of the silken scarves that bound my wrists and ankles together beneath the sawhorse fuck stand. I wanted to reach back with one hand, to touch Marjie and let her know that I loved and cherished her for what she was doing to me, wanted to slide my other hand up, caress David's surprisingly small testicles, feel the sweet, precious stones inside them quiver at my touch, and then bring that hand up his cock, grasping him, stroking him, sliding up and down, helping him with his release until he moaned the way I was moaning, the way Marjie was starting to moan too, until he grabbed the sides of my head and held me in place while his cock poured molten lava gravy into my mouth and I drowned with the loving and drinking of it.
But I couldn't, because I was still tied and neither of my masters saw fit to undo my silken bonds. Silk! They were tight, but they didn't hurt as the leather bonds that hurt me. Did that mean that I was more endeared to them now? Oh, I hoped so! God in heaven, how I hoped! I would do anything they asked of me. It was no longer necessary to tie me up. But-my heart quivered in my bosom, directly behind a rock-hard, aching tit-how much sweeter it was to be helpless and at their total command! My ass gyrated up and down, from side to side, and Marjie was rubbing it with her sweaty, hot palms. Why didn't she pinch me again? Why didn't she flail my thighs and buttocks with her whip? I would have enjoyed that. 6h, God, I'd have enjoyed it!
"Darling!" she moaned, obviously in the grip of passion herself. "Darling! Trade places with me! Quickly, before I died with my desire!"
And even as she spoke, her dildo fought itself free of my asshole, reluctant as I was to let her go. When she popped out of me, I felt so empty, so goddamned empty, and so hungry at the same time. I heard a bump on the floor, the little click-click-click of her boot taps, and then she was standing before me, pawing her brother as he fed me his cock, and she was naked except for the boots. Gone were the harness, the dildo she'd attached to it, the dildo with which she'd fucked my pussy and asshole into a come that was only just beginning to subside.
"Christ, Marjie," he protested, fondling my head, "I don't think I can pull it out of her without coming."
"Try," she murmured, biting his ear lobes. "Try for me! I want to feel her mouth on my cunt." Her hand dropped to her crotch and she fondled herself shamelessly, a long slim finger jabbing up into the shaven gash of Iter pussy, emerging coated with milky-looking cream. Marjie raised that finger, sniffed at it, then offered it to her brother. He sucked avidly, and I looked up to see his face brighten.
"Fuck her again, David," she suggested. "Her asshole is loosened up and ready for you. Give her all your cock in her most tender place. Spew your cum into her churning guts. Oh, David, 'she's churning with passion right now. I've made her climax. You make her go crazy!"
"Let go," he told me. "Let go of my cock!" and he pulled, trying to free himself. I was unwilling. I'd been building up to the eventual explosion of his juices, and from the taste of him it wasn't far away. I didn't want to let go. Please! I signaled with my eyes. He pulled again, and his cock jumped out of my mouth.
It was even bigger than when he'd inserted himself, and the tip of him seemed to glow with livid arousal. I had never seen a cock head so red and swollen, so wet and shiny. Just the friction of pulling from my reluctant lips that registered a little effect on David, for as he stepped back, a bubble of creamy jizz formed in the slitted opening at his very tip and oozed down the curvature of his knob with maddening slowness. I licked and slurped my lips, and I whimpered too, saying, "Oh, come back ... let me taste you ... I can see your cum. I want to drink it too . .. please .. . please ... please ..."
But that big drop of semen slipped away as I watched, and my eyes followed its descent until it splattered in heart-wrenching waste upon the floor below. I could taste it on my tongue and I desired it, but I couldn't break the silken scarves' hold upon my limbs. If I could have, I think I'd have thrown myself upon the floor and licked the boards until I'd recovered all the fragrance of his semen.
In another moment I heard Marjie saying "Your tongue, Nanette, give me your darling tongue," and I had no more time to worry about wasted droplets of cream. Her cunt was plumb against my mouth, and she was reaching down of her own accord to split the lips, and all I had to do was slip my tongue up the velvety red pathway that opened for me.
Jesus! The smell that drifted up from her pussy, into my nostrils! It intoxicated me with its musky arousal, and I was already far along the road to nirvana. I closed my eyes and stabbed with my tongue, felt it touch soft, smooth, sweet girl-flesh, and then I was doing it, by God-driving my tongue up her twat, licking her cunt inside out. A rain-like torrent of woman's cum oozed down her hot channel and met my tongue more than halfway. Each thrust I made into Marjie carried me deeper into that swamp of sex and musky cunt, and I stabbed, stabbed, purring as I tongue-fucked her. It was the very first time I'd ever done anything like this, but I performed as if I'd been doing it all my life.
"Nanette!!" she screamed, and I mean screamed. "NANETTE!!!" Her pussy had seemed solid against my face, but as she began to scream and then moan and whimper, she melted, and she was nothing but butter flowing around me, coating my nose and lips and chin in the dissolving heat.
The taste of her! God! I can't describe it! She was like the strongest whiskey you can imagine, intoxicating me almost from the first spurt of juice that met my questing tongue, and at the same time she was almost delicately sweet too-like rose-water, soft and light upon the taste buds, but addictive, God, so addictive! I thrust into her time and again, until my face was smeared and sticky from her pussy milk.
So fantastic was the sensation of actually licking the pussy of the woman who had dominated and ravaged me that I hardly flinched when David grabbed my buttocks in his steely fingers.
He was rough and crude upon my skin, pinching it, mauling it, clawing it like a cat, but I didn't care. He could have taken the whip and beaten me for all it mattered to Nanette, Nanette the obedient, Nanette the dutiful, Nanette the slave. When his cock pressed against me, testing the resilience of my asshole, that was all right too, and I bucked upward, presenting myself for his pleasure.
His pleasure, yes, but my pleasure, tool When he invaded my asshole with his cock I screamed into Marjie's twat, had the delight of feeling her quiver and slam against me, but he didn't hurt all that much. Marjorie had already robbed me of my anal virginity, and my ass was still dilated from the fucking she'd dished out with her rubber dick. David was bigger, but not that much bigger. I found as he fucked into me that I could take him. Painfully, in a manner that made me sob and whimper up Marjorie's pussy, but with a masterful presence that eased away the pain as his strokes became faster and faster.
His cock was swollen and huge inside me, much bigger as his fucking picked up speed, and I convulsed each time he rammed me to the kidneys. My face was still full of Marjie's pussy, and a tasty pussy it was, causing me to wonder why I'd waited so long? Why had I never thrust my tongue up a juicy snatch before? Why had I never felt the incredible pulsation of an aroused clit throbbing against my lips, quivering when I batted it round and round with my tongue, jiggling as my lips seized upon its nubby little bud and pulled, pulled, pulled- Pulled until her deepest, sweetest honey flowed into my mouth and I drank it greedily, sucking her snatch, delving up it with my tongue, cleansing it of its cummy load, quivering at the same time when that cock of David Buckley's thrust up my asshole, exploiting the laxness his sister's wicked dildo had created, and it was just like before. I was busy at both ends, on fire at both ends, cum leaking from my cunt, drool spilling from my mouth, and I wanted nothing more from my life but this-to satisfy my master and my mistress, to sex them until they, not I, begged to be released.
"Put your tongue inside me," Marjie moaned. "Put it all the way inside me!"
I did! And I was happy to do it, happy to slide my tongue up her slick, dripping tube, happy to drink the hot cum oozing from her cuntal walls. She rocked on her boot-heels, bumping my face with her twat again and again, using fingers to open herself fully so I could lick every inch of her interior. The only thing I regretted was that my hands were still tied, that I couldn't use them to caress her lovely body while I loved it with my mouth.
The muscles of her pussy twitched, and I knew what that twitching meant. Marjie was coming! I'd brought her there, to a snapping, sopping orgasm, with my mouth and my tongue! I pressed my lips against the quivering flanges and felt her twat pour its essences into me, and the whole lower half of my face was sticky and coated with her cuntal discharge. I had never tasted anything so delicious, never wanted anything more in all my life! My tongue scooped into her again and again, luxuriating in the copious fluids of her climax.
And behind me, David was still buggering with his big beautiful cock. My asshole was stretched wide now, accommodating him easily, though the force of his intrusions took my breath away. His hands clawed up and down my sweat-soaked body, and I was so wet between the legs I couldn't believe it. Once in a while as he sodomized me he'd reach beneath and slide the tips of his fingers across my pussy crease and the pulsating button of my clitoris. It was throbbing in rhythm with the in-out plunges of his cock, just as Marjorie's clit, bigger than mine and no less responsive, throbbed and oscillated against the questing point of my tongue.
I was coming, too, coming in such mind-boggling serial installments that I lost track of how long it lasted, how many separate orgasmic bursts were contained in that come. I tried to remember when I'd last gone into multiple climaxes with a man-the men I used to know-but I couldn't. I don't think I ever had. Maybe a juicy little bubble of delight popping in my puss, but not like this. Not the heaving of my guts, the cataclysmic flow of orgasm and juices down the tunnel of my cunt, not the swimming head, the blinking eyes, the moans that rushed in torrents as I licked Marjie and breathed hot panting release into her twat.
Marjie stroked my bobbing head and she kept whispering, "Sweet Nanette . . . sweet Nanette ... you're doing it just right. No, don't stop . . . lick me again . . . aaaaahhhh . . . there! There! My clit! Don't forget my clit! Oh, David-fuck her! She's coming too! Can't you hear her moan? Can't you feel her convulsing and shaking and twitching? The hot juices are running from her body. I can smell them. Ohhhh, mine are running too, into our Nanette's hungry little mouth! Eat me dry, darling!
Eat me dry!!!"
I ate her dry, and as I did, it felt like I was coming through my asshole as well as my pussy. David stabbed into me, and I heard his cock squishing in my oozy rectum. If nothing else, that sound would have catapulted me into a moaning climax, but I was already deep into one, as deep as he was into me, and I just shuddered and lurched back to meet him, my anus dilated, making a warm, enjoyably tight home for his hard dick.
"No, stop," Marjie whispered, her fingers sliding in to separate my tongue and her pussyflesh. She pried my tongue from its desperate hold upon her slice, and she took a step or two backwards, rubbing herself in obvious delight. The shaven lips of her twat were raw and red-looking, and my tongue ached to lap them again, to slip between and up the tight sheath of her sex.
"Let me," I purred as invitingly as I could under the circumstances. "Let me finish you."
"I am finished," Marjie sighed. "I think I really am finished. I may not want to fuck again for a month." She tossed back her long raven hair, wiggled her shoulders so that the large tits danced on her chest, and she smiled. "A cold day in hell when I don't want to do it," she added, moving round me, toward her brother. I tried to follow with my eyes, but when I craned round too far, my neck began to ache and, reluctantly, I let my head slip back into normal position.
"How many other girls have enjoyed this part of it?" she asked, David grunting a nonspecific reply.
"They scream, usually, and they cry and curse, and God, I love to hear that, but our lovely Nanette is different. She likes it. Ooooohhh-look at the way her darling ass quivers when you thump her with your cock! Are you ready to come yet, David? Are you almost there?"
"Mmmm-hmmmm," he said, tight-throated. "Mmmm-hmmmm!!"
Marjie's hand dropped onto my ass. I knew it was her hand. By that time I should have been quite familiar with the texture of her fingers, with the sly way they could crawl over my skin, bringing me to even more tantalizing pinnacles of delicious, erotic release. "Come in her mouth," Marjie whispered, but in a stage whisper of which I could hear every syllable. "Shoot our Nanette's mouth full of your hot salty milk, darling! You've fucked her, you've let her sip at your rod, now give her what I know she'd gladly die to have. Give her your cum!"
"Yes," I murmured weakly. "I'd love it! I want it! Come in my mouth-piss in my mouth if you want! Ohhhh ... I must have it. . . must have everything you can give me!"
POP! His cock sprang out of my ass, and though I loved his self-control, I could not understand how he managed to stay so hard for so long. The men I had known couldn't compare. The longest fuck I'd ever experienced in the past had gone on for perhaps twenty minutes, from insertion to my guy's explosion. But David Buckley had been hard and in me, mouth or asshole, for at least half an hour, and he was still rigid as a steel bar.
As he withdrew, Marjie must have been ready. I couldn't crane my neck around far enough to see what she was doing, but I didn't have to see. Not when that well-remembered tongue began to slide up and down the crack of my body. Apparently she was on her knees, licking up at my dripping pussy, my sweaty asshole, tongue going like sixty, in me, on me, lashing the little bud of my clit until I started coming again, all over again, all over her face, all over myself-coming all over.
She thrust her face up into my crotch and her hands were busy too, stroking up and down my thighs from hipbones to ankles while she ate me afresh, and from the agile way her tongue darted into my slot I knew that Marjie loved-truly loved-the hot tangy musk of my girl-cum. Good thing, for she was drowning in it. Juice poured from me and my entire body shook with the effort of lubricating so excitedly.
Did I say that my body shook when Marjie licked me? God! What words are left, then, to describe my reaction when David appeared before me, his cock still rigid and so red it looked as if the slightest puff of air would set him afire?
He took a deep breath, as if he were summoning all his reserve and restraint, and he pointed his cock toward my guppy-like mouth. He was gleaming from tip to root, gleaming from the sweat and other fluids he'd met in my asshole, and-Jesus! I don't even blush to confess this!! - There was the slightest, faintest, but most thrilling, taste of shit when his cockhead slipped into my mouth and I began to suck it with hot, hungry lips. I didn't care. I was that far gone, that willing to perform whatever my master and mistress demanded of me, even if it meant sucking a cock that had only just come from my asshole, that was tangy with the taste of my own body wastes. David slipped his prick into me, as much of it as he could slip, and I sucked with all the fervor I could manage.
"She's a barracuda," David called to his sister, who was busy giving a very convincing imitation of a carnivorous animal between my legs. Marjorie didn't answer. It would have been impolite, according to my mother's standards of etiquette, because her mouth was full. Of me. And my convulsed pussy.
David grabbed his cock and his hand began to slide up and down the big shaft, bumping my lips when he jerked toward me. Even if it had been a hard enough bump to hurt me, I wouldn't have minded. My tongue flew around the swollen knob of his dong and I could taste the inevitable leaking as he drew nearer and nearer and nearer .. .
Marjie's tongue was a mile up my pussy when I squealed "Eeeeee!!" and David's cock gave up the struggle, squirting a ferocious blast of cum directly into my mouth. I had just time enough to register the exotic flavor of his semen before I was full of the stuff, so full I had no time to taste, no time to think. All I could do was close my lips, lest any of the heavy load dribble out and go to waste. I clenched on his cock and, if my teeth bothered him, he didn't show any sign of it. He just grabbed my head and tried to stick more of his cock up me, and the end of his pecker hammered like a bass drum as the cum spurted from it in huge choking gushes.
My cheeks were puffed out, making a storehouse for the semen I didn't have time to swallow right now, and the oily, viscous load slid down my throat one gulp at a time, coating my gullet, warming me all the way to my belly.
God, the way he shot off! I'd seen him blast his sister with a gigantic load perhaps an hour ago, but he was fully recharged and his batteries were in perfect order, and he just gave me that stuff, gave it to me hot and fast and thick and oh ... ohhhh... Jesus!! So delicious! So fucking delicious!
I remembered that once upon a time, seemingly in another incarnation, I'd dreamed that a man brandished a whip and growled at me to get on my knees and suck his cock. Who was that man I had dreamed about? I couldn't remember. But already today I had been raped, by a man and a woman, I had been bound and helpless, I'd even been whipped. And now I was tied, left hand sashed to right ankle, right hand to left ankle, and a man was fucking my mouth as if it were a pussy and woman was eating my cunt like a street beggar invited to a twelve-course banquet, and I was coming, coming as David came into me, coming like a bandit, throat jerking as I drank up his cum. It seemed that I'd been doing this all my life-and if I hadn't, I should have been!
Even when his cock jumped out of my mouth, it was ragingly erect, and cum was pumping out the slitted crease in his red knob. David took his cock in hand and he poured out the rest of his semen, painted my face with it. I felt his cum in my nose, on my eyelids, flowing across my cheeks. Some of it clustered and clotted in my hair. And still my mouth was full of his juicy semen, so full that I was still engaged in swallowing what he'd poured into me. I felt his flesh glide across my skin, felt the pulsation of his prick as it kept on squirting goo, and Marjie was still tonguing me, still petting me. I tried to imagine how it could have been better, but as my orgasm hammered away, rattling my belly with its force, I couldn't think of a single improvement. It was perfect, just as it was.
CHAPTER NINE
Semen had turned gummy in my hair and on my face when Marjie and David untied the silken sashes round my limbs. I was woozy at first, but they helped me stand up straight, helped me get my bearings again, and I sighed. "Oh, God," I told them. "Oh, God!"
"Come over to the bed," Marjie suggested. "Maybe you should lie down until you catch your breath."
David was helpful too, supporting me from the other side, and the three of us went slowly toward the bed. I lay down upon it, my chest heaving, and by now I had no shame at all when it came to sliding a hand across the trembly, tingly puff of my cunt. I cupped the swollen mons, squeezed it, and moaned.
Marjie sat down on the bed, and her thigh grazed my cheek. I leaned toward that thigh, leaned willingly, and her hand came down to stroke my face and cummy hair. The smell of David's jizz was strong enough to make my head swim, even while lying down, and I basked in the hot, tangy aroma. "Poor Nanette," she purred. "You've had a most upsetting day."
"No, I haven't," I protested. "I haven't at all!"
David came to us, carrying a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black in one hand, fingers skewering three glasses in the other hand. He sat down on the bed too, and poured a stiff jolt of delicious Scotch into each glass. Marjie took hers, then helped me sit up so I could sip mine. The liquor was smoky on my tongue, and I could taste the peat. Beautiful whisky, it was indeed. Twelve years old. My God! I was fourteen when this bottle of Johnnie Walker was brewing in a Scottish still. Fourteen and a virgin. I clinked glasses with my master and my mistress and we all drank in silence.
Marjorie spoke first. "Nanette darling," she said, her voice lilting like music in my ears. "I hope we weren't too cruel." I shook my head, dipping my tongue into the Scotch before I swallowed a mouthful of the misty potation.
David put his hand on my stomach. He seemed gentle now, unbearably gentle. I'd have enjoyed it more, perhaps, if he'd picked up the whip halfway across the room and lashed me once or twice. "You must be aware that Marjorie and I have a special kind of relationship. With ourselves. With other people." His sister nodded, still petting me. I flinched slightly at her touch, wondering if the caress would turn into a slap.
"Yes," Marjie put in. "This is an isolated part of the Province. David and I had no one our own age to socialize with. Everyone else was either older, or younger. And we were twins. That made us closer than most brothers and sisters. We ... we came to a sexual awareness together . . . almost psychically .. . and . .. well, we've been brother and sister, husband and wife, ever since. Our parents were dead, we both have successful writing careers. Now, when we could live elsewhere if we wanted, we don't want to."
David nodded solemnly. I'd already guessed that much, from what I'd sensed and seen. They were a brother and sister who enjoyed fucking each other. Fantastic! In fact, the idea of their incestuous sexual union turned me on. Pleasantly. Excitingly. I'd been an only child for years, and my kid sister is almost ten years younger than I am. Maybe, if I'd have a brother close to my own age . . .
"What we're getting at," David went on, "is this. We enjoy-enjoy very much-the kind of sex you've just taken part in. Bondage. Domination. Compulsion. The master and the slave. In fact, the whole attic has become our playroom, where we can indulge all our whims."
"But," Marjie added, "it gets boring, you must understand, with just me and David, switching roles back and forth. So, several times a year, we try to find ourselves a companion. Someone to share in our games and pleasures. Do you follow me?" I nodded. God, I had shared in those games! My body ached from them, but even as it ached, my body yearned for more!
"If you want to go," David told me, "you're free to go. We'll pay you the sum of five hundred dollars for the privilege of having used your body. That's in American dollars, which are currently worth a little more than Canadian dollars. The only requirement is that you play cricket with us. No criminal charges, no blackmail, no-" "And," Marjie put in again, "if you'd like to stay a day or two longer, we'll give you another five hundred dollars for each day of your visit. Same requirements."
"Money?" I asked, eyes enlarging. "My God .. . you're offering me money?" I drank the last of my Johnnie Walker quickly, the hot whisky flowing down my throat. "I don't want money! Jesus Christ-don't you know what you've done to me? For me?"
"But your fiance?" Marjie whispered. "You told us that you were to be married in a few days."
Oh, God! I remembered! How I remembered! And I thought of Keith, waiting for me back in Susquehanna, expecting that in another week or so he and I would stand before the priest and exchange rings and recite our vows, and the idea was like a core of sickness in my belly. What could Keith give me? What could I give him? My body? He could find bodies anywhere. Let him look for one of the women who crave gentle, considerate lovemaking. Let him find a woman who could appreciate his sweetness, his gentility. For me- "No," I said, "I have no intention of being married in a few days. I have no intention of being married. Ever. And I don't want your money. All I want is ... is ... " I started to cry, and Marjie cuddled my head to her breasts. They were so full, so round, so heavy-the flesh was warm under my cheek and I felt a nipple rising against my ear. I clung to her like a baby, sobbing salty tears onto her beautiful tits. I wondered if she'd mind greatly if I opened my mouth and suckled the stiff nipple that was tickling my ear and neck right now.
"Do you think-?" I heard David say. Marjorie's tits heaved beneath my clinging face.
"I don't know," she said, the words humming in her flesh as she spoke. I liked that humming, and I rubbed my face on it. One of my hands came up, timidly, and the ends of my fingers touched lightly the curve of her other tit. Her flesh was warm and soft and alive. Oh, God, I was alive, too, more alive than I'd ever been!
"The others," David went on. "They only wanted the money. They'd do anything if they were paid. All the others."
"Yes," Marjie agreed. "Like whores. But I don't think Nanette is a whore. Not in her heart, where it really matters."
I wasn't! Oh, God, they seemed to understand! I wanted them! I wanted to be here, with them! I'd be their slave, if they wanted a slave. If I could feel so fantastic, so erotic, so overwhelmed by being their slave, I'd be their slave until my dying day. The whip .. . the leather straps .. . the fuck stand .. . the sawhorse where I'd been double-teamed-my cunt began to itch and I wanted to do it all, all, over again!
David rose softly from the bed and he walked across the room. I watched his bare ass, watched his soft cock flopping, saw him kneel to retrieve the whip Marjorie had used on me. And I remembered how erotically agonizing it had felt when that whip kissed my tender, delicate flesh. "God, yes, yes!!" I whispered, hoping that they were going to use it on me again. Oh, I wanted it! Jesus, but I wanted it! If they whipped me again, if they flicked my stinging flesh with that tongue of leather-I'd do anything! Anything! I'd suck them! I'd fuck them! I'd try to swallow David's gigantic pecker! I'd let him ram that cock up my asshole while Marjie screwed me with her strap-on rubber dildo, and I'd moan like a damned soul in hell, moan as I fucked and suffered my way to orgasms that I already knew would be more delicious, more tantalizing, more explosive than any orgasms of my life!
"Stand up," David told me, brandishing the whip. I looked at it, the long handle, the snaky-thin leather strap, and I rose eagerly, my flesh already burning for its caress. Marjie sat on the bed, smiling like a cat.
David drew back his hand, and I readied myself for the whip's loving kiss.
But he looked at me, and he smiled, and then he whirled round, and the lash of the whip smote across Marjorie's long white thighs. She screamed, dropping the glass of whisky. It spilled on the bed sheets, and she screamed again as David struck her again. I looked on, and for a moment I didn't understand.
"The harness," he said to me in a husked voice. "Go get the harness. Put it on. Our slave Marjorie has been a bad girl. She's spilled liquor on the bed. She's done evil things with her brother, done evil things to a helpless girl. I think she ought to be punished, to be reminded of her enslavement. Don't you, Mistress Nanette? Don't you agree?"
I looked at him, looked at Marjorie where she writhed on the bed, jerking each time the whip lashed her. And I understood, then.
The tables were turned. Now I was the mistress, and David the master, and Marjorie-Marjorie was our slave. Mine and his. We could do with her as we pleased. Rape her trembling body. Sodomize her. Force her to eat our cunt and our cock. Drench her mouth and face in our sex juices. We could tie her across that sawhorse and I could ram a ten-inch dildo up her tiny asshole, ram it till she screamed, just the way I'd screamed when she did it to me!
And that wasn't the half of it! Once David and I had impressed our will upon big-titted, long-legged Marjorie, then the tables would turn again.
And it would be Marjorie and me, enslaving a subservient David Buckley! His incredibly long, thick cock would be only a toy for our pleasure, a toy that could fill our mouths with succulent juices, that could ram fiercely up our snatches or assholes, as we chose, and he'd damned well better keep it hard and ferocious, or he'd suffer the consequences!
Yes! I could see it now! Marjorie, handling his pecker with contempt, fisting the hard steely bulk, while I squatted behind him and inserted the greasy tip of our dildo toy up his excruciatingly tight asshole. Marjorie mounted on his face while I rode his pecker like a queen, sucking orgasm after orgasm from David's obedient dick, using him to bring us delight-but, oh, so much delight for him, as well!
I hurried across the room, grabbed the harness Marjie had dropped, and I hastened to belt it onto myself. The dildo was still in place and I wiggled it with my finger as I returned to the bed. "Like this?" I asked haughtily. "You want me to use this on her? Where do you want me to put it? In her mouth? Her pussy? Or would you rather watch me bugger the disobedient bitch? Fill her guts with my big hard cock? Oh, I think I'd like to do it all to her! How does that strike you, David darling? Would you like to watch me rape our cunt-slave?"
His eyes gleamed as he turned to face me, and I knew what he was thinking. "Am I the best of them all?" I asked. "I know what kind of game you're playing, and I want to be dealt in, because I'll play. By God, I'll play! So tell me, David sweetest," and I was almost unconsciously echoing Marjie's very vocal tones as I spoke to him, "what would you like me to do to the bitch?"
"Fuck her," he grimaced. "Fuck her ass off! After that, we'll play it by ear. After all," and he smiled, "she is our slave, isn't she, darling Nanette?"
"Of course, my love," I replied, kissing him on his mouth. My fingers stroked the whip. It had been used on me, now it was being used on Marjie, soon it would be used on David, too, and then it would be my turn again. The potential was staggering and the possibilities endless. What if we found ourselves another lonely traveler, someone just like me? Another slave for our lusts-but this time it would be three dominators instead of only two, and one of those three-one of them would be me!
Turn, turn, turn, I thought. To everything there is a season. A time to master, a time to submit. Now it was my time to master, and I would do it with a vengeance, so that when it came my time to submit I would appreciate all "the more the delicious thrill of being helpless. Oh, God, I could hardly wait until my turn rolled round again!
But first we must chasten Miss Marjie, and chasten her we would. "Hit her again," I told David. "I think she needs at least another taste of the whip. Oh, Christ, let me do it!!"
I grabbed the whip from his hands and I flailed Marjie without compassion. She screamed as I beat her, and she rolled onto her belly, and the slender but shapely curves of her ass thrust up, so white, so smooth, so glazy with sweat-the most inviting target imaginable. She had to know what I would do.
And I did it! I smote her bare, beautiful ass with the whip's tongue, and I thrilled to hear Marjie cry out, "Ahhh . . . Goddddd . . . what are you doing to me? Please . . . don't hit me again!"
David slipped his arm around my waist and his thigh eased against mine. He steadied me as I whipped his sister, and both of us knew that within a very few minutes he and I would be fucking the white-fleshed girl in brutal tandem, attacking her body until she gave up the struggle and melted into orgasm.
I put down the whip. "My cock," I said, jiggling the rubber penis that thrust from my harness. "I want you to suck my cock, you bitch. I want your tongue and your lips and your hot mouth to love me. Love me like I've never been loved before."
Marjie whimpered, and she raised her head. "N-n-noooo," she sobbed, but her eyes met mine and I saw the gleeful acceptance written there as plain as these words upon the paper. Her pink, moist tongue shot out, brushing the tip of my dildo, and I moved closer so she could suck me inside. Behind me, David's hands were petting and stroking my back and hips, and he leaned against me so I could feel the renewed strength of his penis, rising where it touched my flesh. In a few moments he'd be stiff, excitingly stiff, and the three of us-David and I, plus our abject slave-could find delightful ways to take away,his erection. And it could go on this way forever, if I played my cards right. Me and David and Marjorie. Oh, yes! I thought. Oh, yes, yes, yes!!!!
* * *
I still haven't called Keith or even written, to let him know that I won't be in Susquehanna for our wedding. That, in fact, the wedding is definitely off. Permanently. How could I tell him, for one thing? How could I make him understand that he can't give me what I need, that he can never give me what I need?
I hope he finds another woman, someone who can appreciate his good qualities, for he does have a lot of good qualities. But they're not the qualities I want in a man, and I simply don't want him. At least he won't have to worry about his immoral private life interfering with his bid for the State Assembly.
If I could put it into a letter, if I could simply explain it to him, I'd try. But I can't make the words come out in a way he would understand. Perhaps, if he'd brought home a whip, if he'd tied me to the bed for a surprise one evening-but "ifs" are a waste of time. I'm sitting in the Buckleys' library now, the room where David writes his books and Marjie hers, and I'm typing these words on the soft-humming IBM typewriter they share. I should call Keith Sirolla. I really should. But it seems such a waste of time, because he wouldn't understand, and-oh, God, our wedding is supposed to take place in just three more days! It isn't fair to run out on him this way!
The door is opening. Jesus! Marjie and David are coming into the room! She's naked, except for her black leather boots, and his pants are distended from the hard-on inside them. In her hands-oh, God, she's holding the whip in her hands! And David is carrying a pair of handcuffs so gleamy and shiny they'd made Kojak come in his pants just to see them! Are those handcuffs for me?
"BITCH!!!" Marjie shouts, cracking her whip. The very sound sends spurts of excitement flowing through my pussy. "No one gave you permission to use that typewriter! But we have ways of dealing with that kind of behavior! Don't we, darling David?"
"We do indeed," he agrees, rattling the handcuffs. "Come here, Nanette, you cunt." ' My heart is beating so fast I think I'm going to die right here, right now. Goodbye. I can't write anymore. My master and mistress are calling me. It's my turn to be the slave again, and I can hardly wait!
