Fourth Chapter: Day Three
When Helen brought us our breakfast the next morning - something that had almost become routine - she wasn't dressed in the French maid's apron. Instead, she was wearing the yellow thong we had seen her in on our first evening together. Her bare breasts were adorned by a pair of nipple clamps. The clamps were linked by a delicate chain which swung freely between Helen's beautiful breasts and made the whole thing look like an intriguing kind of necklace - even though she didn't wear it around her neck - and not like a means for causing pain.
I used the opportunity to take a closer look at these torture instruments. The model Helen was wearing this morning looked like reduced-size tuning forks. Or maybe a better description would be to say the clamps looked like pairs of miniature chopsticks which were joined at one end. The nipple was imprisoned between the two sticks. At the end where they met, there was a small nut. Turning this nut one way would move the nut towards the nipple, force the chopsticks closer together and squeeze the nipple harder. Turning the nut the other way would reduce the pressure of the chopsticks and give the nipple a little more comfort.
"So this solves the 'one size fits all' problem," I thought. Obviously, not all nipples are the same size and shape. Being able to adjust them so easily meant that all women could use the same model. Or a man could use one set of clamps on all his women. I smiled, thinking that I now had two beautiful women at my disposal, willing to play this and other games.
"Men can wear them as well," Helen said, smiling. Once again, she was responding to my mind without waiting for me to express my thoughts. I wasn't sure I liked the implications of her smile and her comment.
"Those look nice. Can I have a pair too?" Cathy asked. With a side glance at me, she added the common female complaint, "He never buys me any jewelry."
So, Cathy had discovered a desire to have her own nipples squeezed by these torture clamps! I was slowly but steadily approaching a state of mind in which nothing could surprise me anymore.
"These are yours. I'm just warming them up for you. But you only get them after you've finished your breakfast like a good girl."
Cathy and I had enough reasons for being hungry. But it seemed to me that Helen's promise made Cathy attack her breakfast with even more determination than usual. Helen watched us demolish the food on our plates. When we had finished, she picked up our trays. As she was about to leave, she said, "I'll see you in the pleasure palace. The last one down is a sissy."
Cathy didn't want to be a sissy. Neither did I. But, being a gentleman, I let her use the bathroom first and was therefore the last one to arrive. I expected some verbal abuse, maybe worse, for being the last, but Helen simply said, "I'll deal with you later, now it's Cathy's turn." Then she asked me to help her strap Cathy to the 'trussing board', apparently her nickname for the low table.
We fastened Cathy's arms and legs to the four corners of the table. Cathy looked wonderful as she lay there, totally exposed, completely vulnerable. Her body seemed to be inviting abuse. My cock got ready to perform its own kind of torture.
Helen must have sensed my impulse. She decided it would be better if I were immobilized too and pushed me back against the wall to lock me into the iron cuffs I knew already from the previous day.
Helen removed the clamps which were still attached to her nipples but didn't put them immediately on Cathy. Instead, she got a vibrator and started to stimulate Cathy's nipples. Cathy moaned and writhed on the table as much as her restraints permitted.
"I want them nice and stiff," Helen explained. "That makes it easier to fit the clamps." She didn't have to wait long. As she fastened the clamps on Cathy's nipples, Cathy's moans grew louder.
The vibrator moved down between Cathy's legs. I could see Cathy push her pussy up in the air as the vibrator danced along her slit. When it pushed inside her pussy lips and pressed against her clit, Cathy's moans took on a greater urgency. She wanted more than just a vibrator. She got more, but maybe not exactly what she had expected. When Cathy's clit was 'nice and stiff', Helen fitted Cathy with a third clamp - right there on her pleasure knob. From the noises Cathy made I thought that this was going to make her either come or faint, or maybe both.
But Helen hadn't planned it that way. Cathy had to stay conscious and just short of reaching her orgasm. Helen linked the chain from the clit clamp to the one which was hanging between Cathy's nipples. I could see that the chain was as taut as a violin string, exerting considerable pull both on Cathy's nipples and her clit. Cathy looked like she was about to lift off the table.
Helen seemed to be oblivious to Cathy's agony. She took the vibrator and put it back onto the shelf where it belonged, impersonating a perfect housewife who always keeps her home in immaculate order. I wondered - and Cathy probably wondered too - how long Helen would keep her tied up like this. The only way Cathy could alleviate her pain was to breathe only very shallowly. Taking deep breaths would increase the tension of the chain even more.
"You know, we never got to finish that conversation we started yesterday," Helen said, as if this were a fireside chat over a glass of wine. I immediately knew which conversation Helen was referring to.
The previous day, I had thought of coming out with my resentment, asking Helen to decide in my favor. But now, as I saw Cathy subjected to such a painful treatment, I was in a much more conciliatory mood and decided to keep my mouth shut. Cathy also remained silent.
"Do you know which conversation I'm talking about, Cathy?"
"No, I don't remember anything," Cathy whispered.
"Shall I refresh your memory? It was about whether you deserve a spanking."
Cathy seemed to have gained new strength. "No, it wasn't about whether I deserve one, but about whether Stan ever felt like spanking me."
"And? What do you think?" Helen half sat herself on the free part of the table at Cathy's side.
"I guess he did."
"Do you know the reason?"
"Because I don't like those caveman friends of his."
"Just because you don't like them? Isn't there more to it?"
I saw Helen's hand move to one of the nipple clamps and give the nut a slight turn.
"Ouch! No, I also make it clear that they aren't welcome here."
"Is that how a woman ought to behave towards her husband's friends?" Helen gave the other clamp a slight twist.
"Ow, that hurts. Please stop."
"Well, are you going to confess?" Helen's hand moved towards the clamp on Cathy's clit but didn't touch it.
"Yes, I confess! Just don't tighten those clamps any more. It was bitchy of me to let Stan do everything on his own and make his friends feel unwelcome. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise!"
I couldn't help feeling pleased about this confession. But I would have preferred it if Cathy had reached this opinion without so much pain.
"So you agree that you deserve a spanking?"
"Alright. If Stan wants to spank me for this, I won't resist."
"Only Stan? Haven't you offended all his friends?"
Cathy's eyes widened. "I'll apologize to them too," she said quickly.
"I don't think a few nice words like 'Sorry guys, it won't happen again,' will do the trick. Don't you think they deserve more?"
Cathy shook her head violently. "No way am I going to let those cavemen touch my bottom."
Helen's hand which had been resting on Cathy's thigh, took the clamp attached to Cathy's clit and gave the screw a quick turn.
"Ow, Ow, no more, please! Yes, yes, they can spank me as well. Just don't tighten those clamps any more."
"Okay, if you insist," Helen got up and positioned herself at the opposite side of the table. Apparently there were some controls which I couldn't see.
"Let's recap how far we got. You agree that your behavior towards Stan's friends was bitchy. You promise to be friendly to them next time. You agree that they have a right to spank your bare bottom."
Helen paused after each sentence, waiting for Cathy to nod her agreement. Helen continued, "Next Wednesday, the poker round will meet at this house. You will welcome Stan's friends in a friendly and pleasant manner. You will prepare something for them to eat and you will bring them another beer when they want one. You will apologize to them for your bad behavior. You will ask them to spank your bottom as a sign that they've forgiven you."
As Helen went on, Cathy had taken more and more time to nod her agreement. I noticed that Helen did something with those hidden controls which caused the two halves of the table top to move gradually apart. Not only did they slide sideways, the central part of the table also lifted up. Whenever Cathy hesitated too long, Helen slid the table top a little further apart.
The effect of this on Cathy was that her body was both stretched lengthwise and arched upwards and that the chain linking the clamp on her clit with the nipple clamps became even tighter with every millimeter the two halves moved apart. What devilish devices this woman had installed in our house!
"Now let's talk about what you'll be wearing," Helen said after Cathy had agreed to everything Helen had said so far. "What do you think, Stan?"
"A pleasant smile," I said, imagining Cathy parading naked in front of my friends. But I didn't want to be unfair. I wanted to be hard but just. I added, "Push-up bra, knotted blouse and the shortest skirt you own."
"And panties," Cathy ventured. It was a desperate attempt to maintain some dignity.
I might have been swayed into letting her wear panties during the evening - but not for the spanking part, of course. But Helen wasn't as amenable.
"No panties," she said. "That's the whole point of the exercise, let them spank your bare ass."
"But I don't want them to peek at my pussy with their greedy eyes. I don't want them to slide their hands up my legs, under my skirt, and feel me up," Cathy said with determination.
Helen didn't respond. She just fiddled with the controls. The table top stretched Cathy a little more and soon she gasped. "Alright, alright, I'm not going to wear any panties."
Helen wasn't convinced. "Are you sure? Tell me what you want."
"I want them to peek at my pussy, I want them to feel me up and I want them to spank my bare ass."
Satisfied, Helen returned the table to its normal position and removed the clamps from Cathy's clit and nipples. Cathy howled like a werewolf during full moon as the blood supply to her nipples and clit was restored.
I was impressed by the variety of sounds Cathy had produced, but I was also glad for her that her ordeal was over. And I was looking forward to seeing my friends' faces at the next poker evening.
"Now that we've sorted out Stan's grievance, let me ask you, Cathy: Don't you have any complaints about our friend here?"
Helen was kneeling in front of me, holding my cock in her hand and fitting me with something which felt like some kind of harness. I wasn't sure whether 'our friend here' referred to me or to my cock.
My attempt to see what Helen was doing reminded me that my neck was imprisoned in a solid cuff, fixed to the wall. I couldn't bend forward to see what has going on between my legs. The gadget seemed to push my balls further back between my legs and reduce the angle at which my stiff cock was pointing upward.
Cathy, still strapped to the table, turned her head and looked in our direction. Without hesitation, she said, "He comes too fast. He doesn't wait for me."
"But you always told me that you didn't mind!" I defended myself, feeling embarrassed that we were discussing this subject in the presence of Helen.
"That's what women are supposed to say. But it isn't necessarily the truth. I really do wish you would last a little longer."
"It's just that I get so terribly excited. It really is a compliment, an homage to your sexy looks," I justified my shortcomings.
"That's the kind of compliment I can do without. Are you suggesting you'd rather I were ugly and unattractive to improve your performance?"
I was looking for a reply; I thought of reminding her that my tongue had always compensated for the hurried departure of my cock, but Helen intervened.
"Stop bickering, the two of you. As Cathy has shown us just now, there isn't a problem which can't be solved with a little good will. Let's see if our friend here isn't willing to cooperate."
After these words, Helen trailed her tongue along my cock, from my balls to the tip and then back. God, could this woman lick! What an electrifying sensation it was as the tip of her tongue left its trail of saliva on my rigid shaft! She repeated the move. If possible, the second time felt even better. She did it again. And again. After the sixth or seventh time, I felt a rumbling in my balls. I was sure I was going to shoot, but I didn't. My cock was so hard, it almost hurt. But I didn't come.
Cathy had watched the whole scene with interest. She too was surprised about my staying power in the face of such skilled stimulation. "What's going on there?" she wanted to know. "He doesn't usually last this long."
Helen untied Cathy and invited her to join in the fun. Cathy took a closer look at my cock in full bloom and exclaimed, "Oh, I see."
She could see, but I couldn't. I didn't have a clue what Helen had done to me. It felt like my dick had been disconnected from my balls. Was this permanent? Would I be condemned to having a hard-on but be unable to come for the rest of my life? The thought tortured me even more than my rock-hard cock.
Soon there were two extremely sexy women kneeling in front of me, taking turns in trailing their tongues along my shaft. This was paradise! And it was hell! My cock couldn't possibly get any harder and my balls felt so full, I expected them to burst any second.
My balls didn't burst, but my agony continued as the two women continued to play their cruel game with my cock. I was barely able to stay on my feet, only held upright by the cuffs which kept me firmly pinned to the wall. I grunted and groaned, I whined and whimpered, but I didn't come.
"Can I take it into my mouth?" Cathy asked Helen.
"You certainly can," came Helen's answer. "I'm sure he'll enjoy it."
Enjoy it? Hell, no! If anybody had told me before, that getting a blowjob could feel like torture, I wouldn't have believed them. Now I know.
Cathy's wonderfully warm, soft lips slid down my shaft until I could feel the head of my cock push against her throat, and then back up again. Cathy repeated the movement, getting faster and faster. My moans turned into a wail and then into a howl. I would have loved to fill her mouth with my spunk, no matter what the consequences, but I couldn't.
I was ready to promise Cathy everything she wanted, if she'd let me come, or at least stopped torturing me, but Cathy wasn't interested. She only stopped when she felt she had had enough.
Then something unbelievable happened. I did something I thought I would never be capable of doing. Helen asked me if I wanted her to give me the same treatment Cathy had just given me, and I shook my head. I declined a blowjob from this most skillful, most sensual of women!
"Alright," Helen exclaimed in mock indignation. "I'll go and find something else to put into my mouth." She pulled Cathy behind her as she left the torture-chamber. From the muted sounds I could hear I gathered that they had gone into the kitchen to fix something for lunch.
I felt left behind, standing there fixed to the wall, with my cock poking holes into the air. At least there wasn't anybody stimulating me, but my erection continued unabated.
After a while Cathy and Helen returned, carrying a tray with my lunch. They fed me and wiped my mouth and chin whenever I spilt something. Cathy's encouragement, "Eat, darling, you'll need strength," did nothing to comfort me.
Once I had finished my meal, their attention turned once more to my cock. I could feel something soft, cool and wet being smeared onto it. Then there was a tongue, licking off whatever they had pasted onto my dick. "Oh, I love my new giant hot dog," Cathy exclaimed.
Hot dog? That explained things. The only question which remained open was whether the stuff they had covered my dick with was ketchup, mustard or mayo. Knowing Cathy's taste it probably was a mixture of all three.
There's a popular saying that you can't argue about taste. But you can sure as hell argue about whether this is a way to treat the man you love. Cathy licked and nibbled, sucked and slurped, swallowed and guzzled. She made a meal of cleaning my cock and brought my excitement back to the painful levels I had experienced before the lunch break.
"Look, it's gotten all sticky. We've got to clean it," Helen suddenly exclaimed. I was sure she wasn't talking about my cock, because that had been cleaned thoroughly many times over by Cathy's tongue. The 'it' Helen was referring to was apparently the device she had fitted, the torture instrument which stopped me from coming.
There were fingers around the base of my cock, fumbling with some kind of catch. Eventually, they succeeded. Hallelujah! I could breath again. When the two women started to lick my shaft again, I knew it would only be seconds before the accumulated excitement would find its outlet.
I felt my balls first contract and then expand. Then my cock turned into a sperm fountain, shooting thick globs of white stuff into the air. I came with an intensity I hadn't thought possible, harder than ever before. The two beauties in front of me fought for the best place to catch my cum. But only very little made it into their wide open mouths. Most of it landed on their faces and tits; nothing was wasted.
When I stopped coming, Cathy and Helen turned towards each other and licked my semen off each other's faces and breasts. They cleaned each other thoroughly and made no secret about how much they enjoyed both to give and to receive. They kissed each other's cum-filled mouths, their tongues darting inside, playing with each other and with the spunk my cock had so generously donated.
Watching these two sex-starved kittens at play got me so excited, I thought, 'Gee, I'm going to be hard again in no time.' But then I realized I had never gone soft. My tool was still hard, sticking up into the air, as if I had never come! Now this was something to holler about: I could come like this and maintain my erection. I could keep on fucking even though I had just shot my load!
Helen must have read my thoughts. Or maybe she had planned things this way all along. When they were done playing with each other, the two women unlocked my cuffs. My freedom didn't last very long, though. They made me lie on the table and strapped me to the four corners. To my horror they put the harness back onto my cock which was pointing straight at the ceiling.
The two women argued who should be the one to use me first. Helen thought that Cathy had the right to start the proceedings, because she had been deprived of a good long fuck for so many years. Cathy insisted that the rules of hospitality demanded that Helen, being our guest, was entitled to the first ride. In the end they decided to draw lots and Cathy won.
I could see Cathy climb on top of the table and straddle me. I could see her beautiful breasts sway gently with every move she made. The hardness of her nipples told me how much she was looking forward to this experience. I saw her pussy, embellished with golden curls, being lowered onto my hard rod. I could feel her soft, moist sex engulf my manhood.
How beautiful Cathy looked, my goddess of love! How determined she was to use the hardness of my cock to bring herself to her deserved orgasm! She rode my cock, starting with slow, lascivious movements. But the slow-motion ride did not last long. She seemed to be in a hurry to reach her destination. Her breasts bounced as she picked up speed. She clasped them with both hands as her movements became more and more frantic. There was sweat on her forehead as her face tensed.
Cathy moaned as her orgasm took hold of her. She slumped forward, supporting herself on her arms. Then she lay on top of me. I could feel her hot body as she kissed my face. "Thank you, darling, that was wonderful," she whispered. I felt at least as excited as she must have felt, but I couldn't get any relief for myself. I had resigned myself to the fact that the two women had taken control of my balls, that I would only be allowed to squirt my stuff when it pleased them.
"Can I have one more?" Cathy asked Helen.
It would be Helen's turn to ride me, but Cathy wasn't satisfied with just one orgasm. Helen generously allowed Cathy to use me a little longer. Cathy fucked me a second time, or more precisely, she fucked herself, using me as an instrument. I would have loved to help her, put my hands on her hips, lift her up and bring her down again, but I was reduced to being a spectator whose only function was to provide the required length of hardness. I didn't matter, the only thing Cathy was interested in was my cock.
It slowly dawned on me. This is what Cathy must have felt like when I plunged my cock into her and only thought of myself, when the only thing on my mind was my own satisfaction, when I treated her not like a beautiful woman, but like a warm body with a hole for my cock!
Cathy continued to ride me and helped herself to a third orgasm without even asking Helen for permission. It seemed that she wanted to make up for all the missed chances in one afternoon. It was a beautiful sight to see Cathy abandon herself to her desire. I was pleased that I could be at least an instrument for her pleasure. But how could I remain detached, seeing what I saw, feeling what my cock felt? I wanted to join her in her orgasm. I wanted to flood her pussy, mix my juices with hers, let her know how much I loved her.
There are men who say that all women are the same, or at least their pussies are. Nothing could be further from the truth. Can there be any more diverse sensations than those I experienced that afternoon?
Helen mounted me as soon as Cathy had released my cock from its increasingly slippery prison. Everything about her was in marked contrast to Cathy who had occupied the spot before: her long, pitch-black hair, her slim, almost fragile looking body, her small firm breasts, and, not least, her hairless pussy with the pouting lips. But the greatest contrast was in the way she rode my cock.
Whereas Cathy had been pursuing her own pleasure single-mindedly, Helen seemed to be determined to increase my agony to hitherto unknown levels. She didn't just ride my cock, she squeezed and kneaded it with her pussy as she moved up and down. She knew a hundred ways of stimulating my long-suffering cock.
If Cathy had made me moan and gasp, whine and wail, Helen added a completely new range of sounds to my repertory. She made me feel good, oh so good, and she increased my suffering because I couldn't get any satisfaction. I never knew that heaven and hell were this close together!
Helen's orgasms were much quieter than Cathy's had been. As Helen had said herself, she didn't make a song and dance about them, but she probably enjoyed herself as much as Cathy had. And I suspect that seeing me whimper beneath her may have increased her enjoyment. The only indication of her excitement that I could detect was the increasing moisture around my cock.
I don't know how I survived my ordeal, but I did. When Helen thought she had abused me long enough, she made room for Cathy who was waiting impatiently for her chance of a return visit. After Cathy, Helen had another go at torturing my cock. Then they stopped.
Cathy lay down on the floor and spread her legs invitingly. "Now come and fuck me for real, caveman," She taunted me. Helen released me; first the harness around my cock, then the straps which tied me to the table. I was free to follow Cathy's invitation.
I could hardly walk. My balls felt so big and heavy, I was sure they had turned blue. But I didn't have far to go. In a flash I was on top of Cathy and inside her luscious pussy. I thrust into her with all that was left of my strength. I fucked her hard and fast. And I came. Boy, did I come! There wasn't room enough in Cathy's pussy for all the cum my balls produced.
And my cock stayed hard! It didn't soften and shrivel up as it usually does. I kept pounding into Cathy's overflowing pussy. I could see from her face that Cathy was just as surprised as I was, and that she enjoyed very much what my new 'long life' cock was doing to her.
When Cathy finally begged me to stop, I was completely exhausted, but my cock was still rock hard. It only lost its hardness some time during the night. Helen had been watching us, comforting Cathy, as I fucked her long and hard. Cathy hugged and kissed Helen, close to tears, and thanked her profusely for the miracle she had worked on my cock.
"This was only the beginning," Helen replied. "He'll need a lot more training before he can do the same thing without artificial help.
Boy, was this something I wasn't looking forward to!