voyeurism

I bowed my head as the judge stared down from his chair to me.



“I cannot believe that somebody without any previous convictions could have snapped the way you did over one small comment,” he began.



“But sir…” I started to reply.



“Silence!!” The judge roared. “No matter what he said, or did, you had no right to leave him fighting for his life in hospital.”



“So you’re saying it was okay for him and his friends to try doing what they had planned?” I asked my rage starting to boil over.



“You and your friend should have walked away and gone for help,” The judge continued. “Instead you used excessive violence and for that I have no choice but to hand you the severest sentence that this court will allow.”



I stared at the judge, the veins in my neck throbbing with rage, as I waited to hear what his sentence would be. I just hoped that he took my previous flawless record into account.



“The only thing that has managed to reduce the sentence I am handing you,” the judge began. “Is the fact that you admitted your guilt at the earliest opportunity.”



I held my breath as I waited for his next sentence.



“So taking everything into account I sentence you to three year’s hard labour at The Quarry.”



Quickly raising my head I stared at the judge.



“You have got to be joking,” I said my body trembling with rage.



“I can double it if you would like me to,” the judge roared down at me.



“Three years, no parole, and maybe in the future you will think before you do anything like this again.”



As soon as he had finished speaking two large, tattooed, security guards appeared, from out of nowhere, either side of me.



“Take him down.”



Suddenly my arms were clamped in the vice like



grip of the guards and I was dragged from the dock, out to a waiting van and bundled into the back. There were two other people, one man and one woman, already in the van and as the guard handcuffed me to the restraining bar I noticed them both staring at me, silently.



It wasn’t until I was fully restrained, and the guards had claimed into the front of the van, that either of them spoke, and then it was the woman.



“What did you get?” She asked.



“Three years at The Quarry,” I replied.



“Fucking hell man,” the male prisoner said. “What the fuck did you do to get that?”



I stared at him, sizing him up before deciding whether to tell him. He was a scrawny looking man with long straggly hair and he was skinny as hell.



“Put someone in hospital,” was all I said.



“Must have been bad,” the man responded. “Normally The Quarry is eighteen months maximum.”



“So what about you?” I asked him.



“Drugs.”



Turning away from him as he put his head down I looked back at the woman. She was muscular, had long golden hair, immense breasts and tattoos down both arms and on her legs.



“What did you do?” I asked her. “The name’s Julez by the way.”



“I’m Sabrina,” she replied. “And I you must know I murdered a man that was trying to rape me.



“So where are you being sent?”



“Same as you, only the woman’s side, but he’s right I only got eighteen months there then I’m getting transferred to a regular woman’s prison.”



As she spoke I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The thug I had battered was still alive yet I got double the length o time that she had, it didn’t seem right.



“Where are you going?” I asked the man looking back at him.



“Rehabilitation for six months,” he replied. “At the new drug rehab place this government have had built.”



During the rest of the journey the three of us sat in silence, my mind racing as to why I had been punished as severely as I had, until we came to a screeching halt and the back door opened.



Two men dressed in hospital whites climbed into the van, took the man out roughly and slammed the door shut again before the van started up again. The rest of the journey took about an hour and when we finally pulled up I stared out of the window, at the imposing stone walls that I saw before me.



The doors were thrown open and the two guards that bundled me in stood there, an evil smirk on their face, and then climbed in to unshackle Sabrina and me, before pushing us out into the blazing sunlight.



As we walked towards the entrance the large wooden door swung open and two more guards, this time female, came out and took Sabrina in one direction while I was led the opposite way.



“Make the most of her,” one of the guards said. “That’s the last woman you’ll see for three fucking years.”



I smiled to myself at the thought of the guard thinking not seeing a woman for three years was going to bother me, they had no idea that being locked up for three years with men would normally be my idea of heaven.



The thing was the reason I had been sent to The Quarry was because some homophobic thugs thought it would be funny to try and get me and a straight friend to fuck each other in the streets, getting nasty when we refused, and I had given the ringleader the pasting that had left him lying in a hospital bed.



Trudging along white corridors I was led to what was named the welcome suite and told to sit and wait to be formally signed in. The guards then walked away, muttering to each other, leaving me alone in the room.



Looking around I was impressed with how clean and tidy everywhere was. The things I had heard about this place gave me images of a dark medieval style prison, run by violent thugs that either broke the inmates or killed them.



Eventually a well dressed, cleanly shaven, man walked into the room and over to me. He looked me up and down without saying a word before he finally spoke.



“Stand up and strip,” he ordered as he turned to the table behind him.



Doing as he asked I slipped my boots, socks, jeans and t-shirt off, leaving me in front of him in just my boxer shorts. When he turned back around, and saw me standing there like I was he smiled.



“When I said strip I meant everything,” he said. “NOW FUCKING DO IT!”



Taken aback by the sudden outburst of anger I hooked my thumbs into the boxer shorts waistband before sliding them slowly down my legs.



“See that wasn’t fucking hard was it?” The man said slipping his hands into a pair of latex gloves.



Walking over to me he began to check my head, running his fingers through my hair roughly, before lifting my arms and giving those a thorough examination as well. Once he was satisfied with my upper body he dropped to his knees, pushed my legs apart, and ran his hands up them slowly, getting closer and closer to my cock. Looking down it would have been so easy for me to grab his head and force myself between his lips, but I resisted the urge, although the thought had started to stiffen my cock a little too rapidly.



As he lifted his head he couldn’t help but notice my state o excitement and he looked up at me.



“Impressive cock,” he said. “I can see you being very popular here.”



He laughed out loudly once he had finished his sentence, before flicking the swollen head of my dick hard with his finger, causing it to soften quickly.



“Turn the fuck around and bend over the desk,” he said standing back up straight. “And open your legs.”



Cautiously I did as he said and, without warning, felt a cold, sticky liquid squirted onto my ass before he rubbed it into my hole and roughly inserted a finger.



“You would be surprised what some of you people smuggle in here,” he said as his finger worked around the inside of my ass, brushing over my prostrate, and instantly hardening my cock once again.



As he continued to probe, far longer than I thought was really necessary, the throbbing in my cock got worse and a small amount of pre-cum leaked from my cock’s slit. Finally he removed his finger, turned back to his table, and began to write.



When he turned back around he told me to go through to the net room, pointing at the door in the corner, and I did as he asked without saying a word, desperately trying to make sure he didn’t see the effect his anal probing had had upon me.



The next room was just as clean as the first only there were already four other, fully naked, men standing in a line with their hands protecting what little modesty they had left. Joining the end of the line I waited as one by one the men in front slowly moved forward, through an x-ray scanner, which after the anal intrusion I assumed we had all gone through I didn’t think needed, but kept my mouth shut.



Once we had all moved through we were ushered through yet another door, into what turned out to be a shower room. The five of us lined up and, without warning, the showers were switched on and a jet of freezing cold water cascaded down over our bodies, eventually warming up just enough.



None of us spoke as we washed ourselves all over quickly, but I noticed a couple of the other men looking at each other with a look of longing I their eyes. Slowly the other two and me left the shower, leaving the two that were staring at each other alone, moved to yet another room, and dried off.



As we began to walk through the next door I could hear the moaning and groaning of the two that we had left behind in the shower, and smiled to myself as it was obvious what was going on.



The next room looked totally different to the crisp, clean whiteness of all the other rooms so far, instead this was dark, smelt damp and was where we were to be handed our new clothes for the duration of our stay.



Walking to the counter, where two large men were handing out the clothes I was handed me a pile of clothes and a pair of boots.



“Put them on and be quick about it!” the man ordered.



I stepped back from the counter to the benches behind me and placed my clothes down, before beginning to get dressed. At least the clothes all looked new, there was no way I would have worn some boxer shorts that had already been used and I stepped into them, before the socks, jeans and vest top followed quickly.



Once I was dressed I was ordered to leave the room by a door at the far end and as I did I found myself greeted by yet another guard in a long corridor.



“Follow me,” the guard said. “And you better keep up.”



I did as he said until he stopped in front of a door, knocked and then swung it open.



“In there,” he said pushing me in the back roughly.



I was about to turn and say something but a door opposite opened, and in walked what I assumed was the governor.



“You must be Julez,” the man said.



“Yeah that’s me,” I replied.



“First of all when you speak to me you will address me as sir,” he said before sitting behind a large mahogany desk. “Secondly your say here will be as pleasant for you as possible providing you don’t cause any trouble.”



I shuffled in front of the governor, trying to keep my eyes on the floor, a task I was finding increasingly difficult considering how handsome he was.



The governor had a large muscular frame, was clean shaven with short, dark hair and film star looks.



“I think it would be polite if you actually looked at me when I was speaking,” he said, snapping my mind away from the thoughts that were beginning to enter my head.



Looking up at him I felt the first stirring of yet another erection in my jeans and was grateful that they were quite loose around the crotch area.



“You will start earning your keep tomorrow, at 7am,” He said. “Today you settle into your room and make sure you understand the rules of this place.”



With that he walked over to me and handed me a thick book with an image of the walls I first came through on the front.



“Follow everything in there and your next three years will fly by,” he told me. “If not then what happens will be your own fault.”



As he walked back to his desk I stared longingly at his ass, the outline perfect in his tight trousers, and my cock grew a little more.



“That’s all for now,” the governor said. “Don’t let me see you in here again. GUARD.”



“Thank you sir,” I said keeping hold of the book.



The door flew open and the same guard that had brought me to the office came back in.



“Take him to Block C.”



“Yes sir,” the guard said and led me out of the room.



As we walked I kept my eyes fully alert, checking out every inch of the place seeing, what each room was called until we finally arrived at Block C, where I was handed to yet another guard, who proceeded to take me to my ‘room’.



Pushing me through the door I looked around. The room was no bigger than eight feet square, with just a bed and wash basin in. the bed was just a standard metal framed single bed and the sheets and blankets were folded neatly on top.



“Get the fucking bed made and start reading,” the guard said before pulling the door closed behind him and locking me in.



Putting the book on the side of the wash basin I made the bed quickly, before picking it up again and lying back. If this was to be home for the next three years I thought I might as well get myself comfortable and began to read.



Although I was trying to read my mind kept wandering back to the governor, and his hot tight ass, and I felt my cock harden rapidly. Kicking my boots off I slipped under the covers and, holding the handbook in one hand, slipped my other one under the cover and opened the zipper and button of my jeans.



Slowly I wrapped my fingers around my thick, hard shaft and began to stroke myself slowly, all the time listening out for anybody coming. I continued to stroke slowly, thoughts of the governor wrapping his gorgeous lips around my hard shaft filling my head and I began to move my hand quicker, the feeling of imminent ejaculation rapidly filling my body.



Tensing my legs I gripped my cock tightly and stroked really fast until I couldn’t hold back any longer, the first jet of cum erupting from my cock onto the sheets next to me. I continued to stroke, milking every last drop that my body had to give, not caring about the state I was getting my sheets into until I was finally spent, and not a moment too soon either.



I heard the door out on the wing open again and just managed to get my cock away as another guard walked past, with yet another new inmate. Breathing heavily I went back to the handbook but it was no use, I just couldn’t concentrate so I got of the bed, made sure I was all zipped up correctly and dropped to the floor, where I proceeded to do some press-ups.



By the time I had done fifty two or three more guards had walked past my cell, with new inmates, and soon all but one of the rooms, the one directly opposite me, was occupied and the noise on the wing began to get louder and louder. I listened carefully, trying to make out anything that was being said, but it was virtually impossible. All I could make out was the sound of sobbing coming from two rooms down from mine and I walked to the front of my cell.



Placing my arms through the bars I rested my head against them and began to wonder if anything other than being locked up was going to happen during the day, as I could see myself going stir crazy.



Soon though the shouting, and two cells down’s sobbing had stopped, and all that could be heard was the sound of breathing and pages of the handbook being turned. Deciding I ought to continue with the handbook I was about to turn back to my bed when the door at the far end of the wing flew open and two guards came into the room. Striding past my cell they continued to the last cell on the opposite side of the room.



“For fuck’s sake Jeff can’t you keep away from this place,” one of the guards said to the person behind the bars.



“You know why I can’t,” the man called Jeff replied.



“Surely you can find someone on the outside,” the other guard said.



“Why would I when I can get all I want here?”



One of the guards took a quick look around and I stepped back so he didn’t see me.



“Okay tell us what you want Jeff,” the guards said.



“You know what I want,” came the reply.



“We want to hear you say it Jeff,” the other guard said. “NOW SAY IT!”



I listened and couldn’t believe what Jeff next said.



“Please sirs let me suck your dicks.”



“That’s better Jeff,” one of them said as both guards proceeded to unzip their trousers and take their, already, rock hard cocks out for Jeff.



“You know what to do now Jeff.”



I watched, amazed, as Jeff reached through the bars and took both of the guards cocks in each hand and began to stroke them slowly. As he did the guards turned to face each other and began to kiss each other passionately, their hands reaching forward and stroking Jeff’s face as his hands continued to work their cocks.



“Get on your knees Jeff,” one of the guards said once he pulled away from the other one’s lips. “Get down and suck my cock.”



Jeff didn’t need telling twice and I watched as he dropped to his knees and brought his head forward to the cell bars. Slowly he wrapped his lips around the guard’s thick, swollen cock and began to move his head back and forth, all the time continuing to stroke the other guards cock as he sucked.



My own cock was rock hard again but I was too afraid to do anything, in case they all heard me, so I just continued to stare, but wished that it was me with a mouthful of hard cock.



Suddenly, and without warning, the guard being sucked let out a loud, audible moan and pulled Jeff’s head as far forward as possible with his hair and bucked his hips aggressively.



“Oh fuck Jeff that’s it,” the guard moaned. “Swallow it all you dirty little cocksucker.”



Jeff’s head moved quicker I it was obvious that the guard had finally cum, and was filling Jeff’s mouth with his thick, white, milky liquid.



“Fuck Sam hurry up,” the other guard said. “I need to fuck his tight ass hard.”



With one last thrust into Jeff’s mouth Sam groaned loudly, before withdrawing his cock.



“You heard him Jeff,” Sam said. “Stand up, drop your pants and turn around.”



Without saying a word Jeff did as he was asked and I watched as the guards gripped his shaft and guided it slowly between Jeff’s ass cheeks before thrusting forward quickly, which caused Jeff to cry out.



“Oh yes your ass is so fucking tight Jeff.”



“That’s it Mark fuck him and fuck him hard,” Sam said still stroking his cock.



Placing his hands either side of Jeff’s hips Mark began to thrust quickly back and forth, Jeff moaning with each forward thrust, until he couldn’t hold back any longer. Reaching into the cell he grabbed Jeff by the hair and pulled his head back.



“I’m cumming Jeff,” Mark said breathlessly.



“Oh fuck yes do it, fill me sir,” Jeff called over his shoulder.



With a final thrust forward Mark grunted loudly and both he and Jeff started to moan as he unloaded his seed deep inside Jeff’s ass. Once Mark was fully drained he pulled his cock free and quickly zipped himself back up just as Sam, who had been furiously wanking while Jeff was being fucked, came again, his cum splashing against the cell bars and Jeff’s ass.



Once both guards had put their cocks away Jeff turned to face them.



“Thank you so much sirs,” Jeff said his breathing slowly returning to normal.



“Here Jeff we will see you tomorrow,” Mark said as he handed Jeff a packet of tobacco.



“Oh I hope you do sirs.”



With that the guards turned away and, as I backed up onto my bed, began to walk back up the wing towards the exit, before Sam stopped outside my cell.



“Hope you enjoyed the show new boy,” he said staring at me. “Who knows you may just be lucky enough to get the same treatment while you are here.”



He then walked away and left me, alone and with a massive hard on, to think about what he had just said. As hot as it had been watching the two guards have their way with Jeff, and seeing them unload their muck into and onto him, neither of them were the sort of men I ever went for, and I just hoped that they would stay the fuck away from me.

A few weeks had gone by. We put focus into working out, and getting into shape. We were both getting busy at work, and add to the fact that Diane’s ex-husband was away, and could not take their son on occasion, Diane had very little free time. We made sure to make time for workouts, and while I would spend time at her home, I still respected her desires. I had not slept over while Sean was there. A couple of times, Diane nearly caved. She appeared to be getting frustrated, and we could not even mesh out lunches together. Being adults, we just grinned and tried to bear it. During this time, I had behaved, and not tried to add to her frustration. The devilish side of me at times wanted to drag her into a dark nook in the office, and get her worked up.



I could imagine pulling her blouse and bra up, latching my lips onto her nipple while sliding my hand up her thigh, under her skirt. Or, rip her panties off, unzip my slacks, and pick her up, sliding her down on to my cock slowly, and then pretending to have heard someone coming in either case, and pulling away to get ourselves presentable again. The idea of Diane walking around the office without any panties on is one of my fantasies. We would be the only ones to know, our private little secret that we kept from all the others.



Diane stopped by my desk, asking me if I would go with her to a wedding in a couple of weeks. Her young cousin was tying the knot, and asked that I accompany her. It would be a day trip, no overnight stay. That was too bad, we could use a night in a hotel, but I agreed to go.



“Good. I have seen your closet, so we are going to have to find something nice for you to wear. Business casual will not do.” she said, remarking on my wardrobe. She was right, the best I had was what I wore to work. I had a couple of suits, but they were very business like. “How about we stop by Bauman’s right after work, then we head to the gym?”



“Ok, what time do you have to get Sean? Might be a short workout.”



“My neighbor is watching him, so I just need to let her know I will be a little later. It should be fine.”



“Works for me.” We planned to meet at the store, then we would head to the gym. Afterwards, she would head home, as would I.



At five, I closed out of my computer, put my paperwork away, and took off, just ahead of Diane. I got to the store, saw they closed at 6, so we had enough time. As I looked over a couple of things, I saw Diane walking in. She stopped near the door, and pulled out her cell phone. She talked for a few minutes, then dialed a number, and talked for a couple more. I was still browsing when she finally came up to me, and told me that Sean’s dad was going to pick him up, and take him to dinner. He would drop him off later, around 10, so we had a little more time. My mind went right to the gutter, but she playing it cool.



I picked out a few things I liked, and she put them back, picking out a few things that she liked. I headed to the changing room, and put them on. She picked a suit, shirt and tie. I have to admit, I did look good in it. I came back out to show her, and she said that was it. I headed back in, and she followed with me with a different pair of pants, same color, but without pleats, she said.



“Here, try these instead. I think the flat front will look better on you.” She sat in the changing room while I tried them on. She decided she was right, and I would get those pants instead.



“So, off to the gym from here?” I asked while beginning to undress.



“Yeah, then I will cook you something so you are not stuck with Hot Pockets for dinner.” She hung the shirt and coat up. I began thinking to many of the dinner she cooked for me. We would end up at the table nude. I felt myself starting to get hard as I thought about those times. My favorite still had to be when I had my tongue in her pussy while she talked to her ex on the phone. When I slid the slacks down, my cock popped out the hole in my boxers, pointing directly at Diane.



“Mmm, someone is having impure thoughts.” She reached her hand out, and gently stroked me. A shiver ran down my spine, the touch was exquisite. She began to lean forward, and I became even more excited. An unsolicited blow job in a changing room would be wonderful. She brought the head to her lips, gave it a quick kiss, running her tongue underneath. She then pulled away. “Now, get dressed so we can get to the gym.” She eyed me with a wicked grin. She would have to pay for that.



I made the purchase, and we departed. I arrived ahead of her again, and went straight into the locker room to change. When she walked out from the locker room, we went to the bikes, and elliptical runners to warm up. Once we were ready, we decided to run a circuit, moving quickly to build up a sweat. The place was empty at the moment, so we had no problems getting to any of the machines. We moved from station to station, working out at the same time. I would do legs, she did shoulders, I did back, she did legs etc. We did this for nearly two hours. Time seemed to fly, and I had a lot of tension built up to burn through.



It was near 8 now, and we were both tired, and drenched in sweat. Diane was a bit out of breath when she asked, “Loosen up in the sauna, then head out after a shower?”



“Why not. Meet you in there.”



I decided that I might as well just keep my shorts on. I stripped off my shirt, shoes and socks. At the last moment, I decided to take off my underwear as well, and just wear the shorts in, if for no other reason that all the heat, and confining the package could be uncomfortable. As I headed out the back exit, Diane got my attention. She just had her head sticking out. “I forgot my suit. Make sure no one is in there for me.” I walked to the sauna, found that it indeed was empty, just like the rest of the place. I walked towards the ladies locker room. She saw me turn the corner. “All clear.” I told her. She stepped out wearing a towel. I blocked her path, causing her to stop just out of the common hallway between the sauna and the locker rooms. I returned the wicked grin she gave me earlier, and quickly pulled the bottom corner of her towel away, finding nothing but bare thigh at first, and a glimpse of her pubic hair as I pulled it further out.



“Very nice.” I told her, and headed for the sauna door. I noticed her chest, shoulders and neck start to turn red as the blush spread into her cheeks.



Once inside, I settled down on the bench. Diane followed, and laid down with her head on my lap. I noticed the opening of her towel was on the inside, easy access for me while keeping somewhat discreet. I let her get comfortable, and rested my arm beside her, then slowly started drawing it up her leg. When I reached the towel, I slipped under it, but before I could get very far, she stopped me.



“Hey now. Be good.” With those words, she got up and turned around. She laid down on her stomach, with her legs towards me. Her knees were against my thigh, and her feet were in the air. “Would you rub my calfs for me? They ache.”



I started with her outside leg, giving it a good rub down. After a few minutes, I moved to the other leg. She rested her head on her arms, relaxed as I moved from ankle to knee. I turned myself slightly, and began rubbing her hamstring, pushing my thumbs gently into the muscle. I worked up a bit, and then back down. Diane let out a sigh, shifting to give me more access to her leg. A few more minutes of this, and I was just rubbing her leg, from butt to knee. She did not mind this contact under her towel. I knew what I wanted to do, and I finally went for it. I started moving my hands back up her leg, and when I reached her butt, I let my left hand keep going. I moved my hand over her cheeks, with my middle finger tracing between. She moaned, and began to voice her protest as I started back down. As she felt my hand retreat, she was quiet again, but as my finger tips reached the top of her thighs, I moved forward again, my middle finger burrowing between the flesh of those globes. I found what I was looking for, and gently probed her ass with my finger, and slowly gained entrance. She inhaled sharply, and began to rise up, but as my finger worked into her ass, she put her head back down, and groaned. She had truly come to enjoy the feeling of having her ass played with.



“Ohhhhhhh, fuck.” I started to twist my finger, moving it in and out. “Ungh, God, don’t stop.” I started picking up my pace, moving my finger a bit faster. She began to move her hips, rolling them with the movement of my finger. She began to mewl, quick little whimpers of pleasure. I could not take much more. It looked like she couldn’t either.



“I need to be inside of you, now.” It was more commanding that I wanted, but it worked, all the same. I pulled my finger from Diane’s ass, and she moved from the bench. She moved in front of me, pulling my shorts down. Once my cock was free, she turned around, facing away from me, and began lowering herself down. I was shocked when she did not guide me to her pussy, but instead she placed the head at her ass, and she began pressing down. The sweat and steam helped, and after a couple of tries, Diane let out several sharp, short gasps as I slid inside of her. She held herself with the head of my cock just inside of her ass.



She pulled up a little, then pushed herself down, forcing me in a little deeper. Up again, straining her sphincter around my cock, then back down again, each time sliding my cock deeper. Finally, Diane was sitting on my lap with my cock as deep inside of her as it could be. All this time, she kept her towel in place. While she rested, I slid my hand into the split on the side, and rubbed my fingers through her pubic hair, and slid my finger down, pressing it on her clit. I felt her clench around my cock as I began rubbing over it, making her squirm on my lap. I moved further down to see just how aroused she was. Her pussy was on fire, her thighs coated in her arousal and sweat. She twisted her body, and planted her lips firmly over mine. Her kissed grew more aggressive as I returned to playing with her pussy. Her ass squeezed me tightly, working to milk the cum from me.



We were sitting directly across the room from the door, but failed to notice that someone had approached. It was only with the sound of the door opening that we realized it. I quickly pulled my hand from under the towel, and Diane sat up straight, but in the shock of the moment, she clenched her ass hard, making me groan. If all of this was not a sure sign of our actions, my shorts laying on the floor were. Her towel did a good job of covering up nearly everything, except for the sides of my legs, and butt cheeks.



“Oh, excuse me.” said the intruder. I looked up to see a female in a one piece suit. She turned her face away from us.



“Uh, no problem.” I replied. I was embarrassed, so Diane must be mortified. The lady who had just walked in, turned back, and must have taken my response as an invitation, because she sat near the door. She moved shyly, uncertain of the situation. She sat down, leaning forward, face towards the floor, or to the door, but not looking at us. I started to lean to my left to pick up my shorts. As I did, Diane let out a muffled moan, bringing me back to upright. I looked over Diane’s shoulders, which were right red at this point to the newcomer. She was now looking our way. I whispered to Diane “Lift up a little so I can grab my shorts.” She glanced back at me. I placed my hands on her hips, and as I put pressure, she lifted just a little. I could not see, but by the looks of our voyeur, Diane was showing her pleasure. I reached over quickly, and brought my shorts to the bench next to me. I looked over Diane’s shoulders again, and saw we were still being watched. Seeing she probably would not be fleeing the room to call the police, I got a little braver. As I was sitting upright again, I lifted my hips, thrusting into Diane again, lifting her higher. I returned to sitting again, pulling out of her ass nearly halfway. I then pulled Diane down to me. She rolled her head forward, but did not resist as I urged her back up again.



In front of this strange woman, Diane began to slide herself up and down on my cock. I took a moment to get a good look at her. She appeared to be a bit younger than us, maybe late 20′s. She was tiny, maybe 5’3″ at most, but had nice figure on a small frame. Her hair was long, dark and straight, pulled back into a pony tail. She kept her eyes low, as if trying to see through the towel that hindered her vision. I slid my hand back under Diane’s towel, making sure to keep everything covered, and slid my fingers between her legs again. She was just as wet as before, finding this to be as arousing as I. I reached forward, and slid two fingers inside of her pussy as she continued to fuck herself on me. I began pumping them out quickly, and Diane responded with a passionate cry. The woman watching us was flushed, and breathing heavy, but otherwise unmoving.



I pulled the towel away at the bottom to provide our companion her first look at our activities. Diane was non the wiser to my actions, but the stranger gasped. Perhaps it was just the scene in general, or the fact that she could see my fingers in Diane’s pussy, and my cock in her asshole. Her legs came together, and she began to squirm. My left hand moved to cup her breast through the towel, and her nipples were evident. I tried to open her towel all the way, but realized she had some clip on the top which held it in place. I pulled the bottom open, allowed me to show her breasts to our guest. I began to pinch and roll her nipple with my free hand. Diane was completely oblivious to everything else but the sensations going through her body, and the fact she was being watched.



I watched as the woman dropped to the floor, and moved closer towards us. I pulled my legs wider apart giving her a better look. She sat, and watched my fingers and cock entering Diane’s body, and I could now see her nipples hardening through her swimsuit. I moved that hand up to her other breast, and began giving it the same treatment, leaving the view of my cock in Diane’s ass unobstructed. She leaned back into me, making the view even better, and that is when the stranger gasped, saying “Oh my God, he’s in your butt.” This shocked Diane back into reality, and she bolted upright, looking at the source of the noise. It was then she realized how much on display she was, and she began to pull the towel back into place.



“We should go.” she said.



“Does it hurt? Having it back there?” the other woman asked, still staring between Diane’s legs.



Diane did not answer. I whispered to her “She has already seen everything, and I think she likes it. Might as well tell her how much you like it.” I started sliding her butt around on my lap, drawing a sigh and a moan. I placed my hands back on her breasts, and returned to rolling her nipples between my fingers, and kissing the back of her neck.



Trying to prod things along, I asked Diane “How does it feel to have me in your ass?” I looked to the woman kneeling in front of us. She looked from Diane’s breasts to my cock moving slightly in her ass. “Go ahead, tell her. She wants to know.”



Diane hesitated, but finally answered. “It feels wonderful.” She finally started moving again, sliding up and down on me.



I watched in alarm and curiosity as the woman brought her hand up to Diane’s thigh. She did not seem to take well to another woman’s touch as demonstrated in the horse costume. This might end the encounter quickly. To my surprise, Diane did not react. Soon, I felt her ass contracting around my cock, and she began letting out sharp cries of pleasure. I could feel the intrusion of the ladies fingers as they worked their way inside of Diane’s pussy. The feel of my fingers was nothing to what I felt now. I wondered, did she have her fist in her? I felt Diane start to shudder, and she yelled out as she had an orgasm. Normally she likes it faster, but this time, our movements were slow and deliberate. I felt her arm come forward as she pulled the woman’s hand away, and she stood up, pulling off of me.



The woman sat back, looking at her hand covered with Diane’s juices. I stood with Diane, and pulled her to me, kissing her. She returned my passion, and reached down to stroke my cock. “I want to cum inside of you.” I told her. “I want to cum in your ass.”



She smiled at me, and I guided her to lay face down on the bench. I moved behind her, and she lifted her ass into the air. I lined my cock up, and slid it deep into her pussy. I pumped inside of her a few times, and pulled out, placing the head against her ass. I looked at the woman on the floor, and motioned her closer for a good look as I entered Diane. With a look of awe while she watched, I pushed inside, stopping only when I was all the way in. Diane exhaled all the while. I gave her a moment to adjust, and began moving, pumping slowly. The stranger sat back to the side, and pulled her swimsuit bottoms aside, and began rubbing her pussy frantically where we could both see her. I found the thought of her rubbing Diane’s juices into her own pussy very erotic, and it spurred me along, moving faster. The exertion was starting to make me light headed in the hot room, but I was going to see it through. I moved faster, Diane grunting, then moaning and panting as I violated her ass. I watched the stranger rub herself, and when she moved a finger back, and tested pressing it into her own ass, I felt the tingles begin. I was getting close. After a couple of tries, she slid three fingers into her pussy, and pumped them quickly.



She began crying out as she came, and I let my own orgasm barrel over me. Diane’s cries had become frantic as she approached her own orgasm. I let out a groan as my cum flew from my cock, deep into her bowels. As I buried myself as far as I could, Diane let out a high pitched noise. Not quite a scream, but she bore down on me and shook violently. Her ass milked the cum from me, and left me spent.



I extracted my cock, and sat back, panting. Diane remain laying on her stomach, chest heaving. I stood up, and helped Diane up, putting endless passion into another kiss, which she returned. I reached down, offering a hand to the woman who just watched us, and helped her up. When she took my hand, I could feel the mixture of Diane’s and her juices on her fingers. This caused my dick to stir a little.



“I’m Amanda.” she said as she rose. “I guess it’s only fair that I introduce myself after that show.” We introduced ourselves as we left the sauna. By the clock in the hallway, this entire scene only took about 20 minutes. I told Diane that we should clean up, and get going, that we did not want to be late for our dinner date, offering an graceful out. As Diane and Amanda headed to the woman’s shower, Diane began to look a little sheepish. I only hoped that she would not later regret this.



I quickly showered off with cold water, and dressed. It was not long before Diane appeared, hair still wet. It looked like she wanted to leave as quickly as possible. We left the building towards are cars.



“Everything OK?” I asked.



“Yeah, it was just strange to be in the showers alone with her after that.”



“No regrets?” She was quiet for a moment. “Really, are you OK with her touching you? She did it on her own, I did not ask her to.” With her silence, I was thinking she may blame me.



She stopped and looked at me. “No, I admit that it felt great. I wanted to stop her, but I couldn’t. It’s hard to explain, but when you are doing things, there is a pattern. The movements are similar.” She began to blush. “It was just so intense not really knowing what was happening. It was such a mixture of feelings looking down at her. I kept wanting to stop her, but she had four fingers in me, and I also hoped she would put it all in.” She was bright red as she recounted the scene. “I wanted her to put her entire hand inside of me. God, is that bad of me?”

Author’s Note: I was originally planning to make this a series, but every time I went back to read the original piece, I just felt like it stood well enough on its own, and I didn’t want to mess with it. Still, ideas kept popping into my head and before I knew it, I just had to get it out. So, this is part two, and there will definitely be a part three – but I haven’t started it yet, so it might be a little while, because I like it to sound just right. This isn’t perfect, but it’s close enough for now. Thanks for your patience :)



—–



It was the second day of the new year, and in her apartment in the city, one young soprano was curled up under her thick covers, watching the clouds scudding by and thinking of a man. A certain tall, slender man with a commanding manner – and other talents – the symphony’s conductor, Sebastien Boulet. She had not seen him for three weeks, and yet the feel of his hands on her hips, the sharp stinging of his baton against her bare bottom had plagued her every thought. Her womanly pride was a bit wounded that she could allow a man to treat her in such a way. Still, she had never felt so alive. Not with any other man, and certainly not with her boyfriend of three months, Todd. He was sweet in his way, but not sensual, not oozing with raw sexuality, and power, and… oh! She had to get a grip on herself.



Claire rolled over, pulling the covers together around herself. When Sebastien had last left her, he had thrown out the very tantalizing offer of private instruction. She had not had the courage to take him up on the offer yet, but her patience was wearing thin (and her vibrator was wearing out!). She glanced at the phone on her bedside table, the small, heavily creased slip of paper beside it. Without another thought, she grabbed the phone and dialed the number.



It rang twice, and then there was a short silence before a thickly accented voice came onto the line.



“Allo. Qui est à l’appareil?”



“Ahhh hmmm,” Claire breathed out in barely a whisper. “C’est la soprano.” When silence followed, she followed up with, “de la symphonie.” More silence. “Je suis désolé de vous déranger à la maison, Maestro,” tumbled out of her mouth, hoping her grammar wasn’t too laughable. The silence this time was so long that she wondered whether she had gotten a wrong number or the line had disconnected. She was beginning to feel silly holding the receiver, when the voice spoke again, crisply.



“Mon abeille. C’est toi?”



“Yes,” she whispered.



“I did not know that you spoke French.”



“A little.”



“Interesting. May I ask why you are calling?”



“The last time we saw each other, you mentioned private instruction.”



“So I did.”



“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble…” she trailed off.



“I will send a car for you. Tomorrow, at noon,” he said, followed by the click of the receiver.



Claire twisted her fingers together, already feeling nervous. She did not stop to wonder how Sebastien knew where to send the car.



—–



She was up early the next day, fretting about her outfit, her hair, whether she would be able to tell which car was the one Sebastien had sent. Standing in front of her closet doors, she finally chose a long-sleeved dark green dress. She slipped it on over her naked skin – why bother with underwear, considering the circumstances? She let her thick, reddish-brown hair out of its braid and finger-combed it to let waves of it fall halfway down her back, and pronounced herself ready to go. Ten minutes early, she was standing on the sidewalk outside her apartment building. A shiny, black town car was already parked at the curb.



As she watched it, a man of medium height and complexion in a dark suit got out of the driver’s seat and wordlessly held open the back door for her. In the backseat there was an envelope that contained a slip of black silk and a note. The note was written in a thin, slanted scrawl and said only “Blindfold yourself.” Frowning slightly, Claire glanced up at the rearview mirror, where she could see the dispassionate face of her driver. It was embarrassing to be involving this man in something so private, but what else could she do? Sebastien would certainly know if she didn’t obey, and he had been quite clear that she should do as he said.



She tied the black cloth around her eyes. Almost immediately, the car drove away from the curb. At first, she could determine where they were from the turns they took. Soon, however, she lost the position of the car, and then stopped thinking about it entirely. After what she assumed was about twenty minutes, she felt the car driving downward, and then stopping. A door opened. People were talking softly somewhere. Another door opened. Gentle hands guided her out of the car, and then jerked her arms firmly behind her back, tying them there.



She cried out softly, in surprise, and felt fingertips brush her cheek. A familiar cologne tantalized her, and her knees suddenly felt weak. Strong arms caught her, and pulled her upright. Was it Sebastien? Or had he sent his scent along with his emissary? It didn’t feel safe to speak.



Whoever it was pushed Claire ahead until they had passed through a doorway. Her boots clicked on tile now instead of cement, and she supposed they had been in an underground parking garage, and were now in a building. They stopped. After a moment, Claire shuffled her feet slightly. What if someone saw them? What would they think about a girl blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back? She shuddered to think. Then she felt someone bend down, putting their lips very near her ear.



“I will remove your bonds, as well as your clothing, for the remainder of this journey.” Ahh, it was the Maestro. For a moment, she relaxed, but then her mind began to race. Were they alone ? Did he own this entire building, whatever it was? When he nudged the blindfold down with his finger, she saw that they were in a sort of hallway, furnished with cream tiles and warm, glowing lights. Straight ahead was an elevator – a fancy one, with carved doors – and she could hear the dull hum of street traffic somewhere to her left. Someone entered from that direction, pushed the button for the elevator, and was admitted immediately. They pushed a button, and the doors closed on them – they had not appeared to notice Claire and Sebastien at all, but Claire was not much appeased by this.



Startling Sebastien, she jerked away from him, turning to look at him with wide eyes.



“Maestro, no! There are other people in the building.”



“I assure you, you would not be the first naked girl in the elevator, nor would you be the last,” he said nastily. “I could send you home instead.”



“Please don’t. But I cannot do what you ask of me.”



Calculatingly, Sebastien studied her face with narrowed eyes. “You would pay for this upstairs.”



Biting her lip, she considered her response. “Whatever you would ask of me. But not this, please, I beg of you.”



“Very well. Have it your own way.” He replaced the blindfold, and grasped her hands again, marching her toward the elevator. After a short pause, he pushed her inside. After a few floors, the doors opened, and someone got in. Claire was mortified, but glad that she at least had her clothes on. She wondered what they must think, but was suddenly glad of the blindfold. At least she couldn’t see their face. After another few floors, the doors opened again, and she thought the person got out. An indeterminate number of floors later, the doors opened once more, and this time Sebastien was nudging her toward the exit.



He took her to the right, turned one corner left, and walked down a long hallway. She heard the click of a lock, and the soft swish of a door opening. He led her into the room, and closed the door behind them. He unbound her wrists, and massaged her shoulders very briefly to remove the kinks. He moved his hands to the shoulders of her dress, and she tightened up nervously.



Making a small impatient noise, he asked, “What is it now, mon abeille?”



“Maestro, please… are we alone?” she asked in a small voice.



“Yes.” She relaxed then, allowing him to undress her with ease. He then led her over carpet, and cold tile, and hard wood, and carpet again. It had seemed lighter, and was now dark once more. He bound her, wrists and ankles, to something she could not identify, but which felt like wood. Her forehead was resting against something, and her back was to the room.



Without more warning than a nearly inaudible swish, Claire felt what must have been a thousand tiny stinging slaps to her back. It felt a little like pricks from cactus needles. It came again, this time to her buttocks. She cried out softly in surprise. Sebastien covered the back of her body, from neck to ankles, in sweeping up-and-down motions, causing her to shudder and whimper. She felt very warm. The slapping stopped, and Sebastien was rubbing his palms gently over her skin. She could not decide whether it was soothing or inflaming, but eventually the stinging died down and went away. In this moment, Claire had time to wonder how she had gotten herself into this situation, wonder why it was her nipples hardened and her pussy dampened over such treatment.



Then Sebastien had returned to the stinger, using it with greater force and speed, focusing this time on her buttocks and upper thighs. She cried out more forcefully this time, with every set of slaps, and tears came to her eyes, soaking into the blindfold. Goosebumps broke out on her skin and she twisted to get away from him, knowing it was fruitless.



He stopped just as suddenly as he had started, running his palms back over her tortured flesh. Then he slipped two fingers between her folds, dragging a line of wetness down her inner thigh, as if to emphasize how turned on she was. He untied her wrists and ankles, only to retie her wrists, this time with her facing outward to the room. Would he now resume stinging her on the front, breasts and belly receiving the brunt of the punishment? God help her, but she hoped that he would. Instead, she felt the structure she was bound to being pushed forward.



“I am going to make a phone call. So you just stay here and be a good girl, mon abeille, and I will be back shortly. Ah, it is a bit dark in here, is it not? Allow me to fix that.”



Claire heard fabric swishing near her, and gradually the light she could perceive through her blindfold grew greater.



“No, Maestro, please…” she said feebly. He stopped her with a firm pinch on both nipples that had her twisting her body in agony.



“You said you would do whatever I asked of you. Now, I think you have had enough of that blindfold. Let’s give you something to look at.” He whipped away the cloth that covered her eyes, and she found herself bound directly in front of a huge picture window, completely naked. There was an apartment building across the way, which was probably separated from them by an entire street, but seemed so close to her that she would have sworn there were mere inches between them. In her first panicked glances, she saw no one at home. She tried to turn her head away, but felt something preventing it. She had to look out the window.



She opened her mouth to protest, but heard the door shut behind her. It was useless. The Maestro was gone.



—–



She had closed her eyes. She heard nothing from the other rooms for a long time. Then, softly, strains of piano music reached her ears. She thought at first it was a recording, but then noticed the player was stopping every few moments and switching. It was Chopin, and then Schubert, then Beethoven. That bastard, he was sitting there playing the piano while she languished, embarrassed, in front of a wide window on display. At last Sebastien settled into his rhythm, playing what sounded like Mozart.



Finally, the curiosity overwhelmed her. Where were they, anyway? She peeked at the other apartment building. Still no one watching. Then she cast her glance to either side, but couldn’t see any landmark buildings to help her. There were other tall buildings around her, and in the distance she caught a glimpse of seawater, but this didn’t narrow things down much. Well over a quarter of the city fit this loose description. The best she could do was that it seemed they might be on one side of downtown, facing away from the more recognizable skyline.



Movement caught her attention, and in the apartment across from her window, she saw a man coming to the table by the window with some shopping bags. She prayed that he would not notice her, and for many minutes, he did not. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, in the fear that she would miss his looking, though. Eventually he did look out, evidently casting his eyes on the parts of the view he could see, then scanning his eyes over the building, not specifically looking at anything. But when he noticed her, she could tell. He took a half-step back in surprise, then focused his eyes directly on her window, with a strange expression on his face.



She cast her eyes downward, but dragged them back up anyway. He was a handsome man, this stranger. Wavy, dirty blond hair came down around his ears, and he had a strong jawline and nice, sleek musculature. He was wearing slacks with a soft-looking, untucked button-down shirt. His feet were bare. He caught her eyes and raised his hand in a small wave. She smiled weakly back at him. Then, to her utter shock, he removed his slacks, standing in his living room in only a tiny pair of black undershorts. Didn’t he know that anyone in their apartment building could see him? Perhaps he didn’t care. Perhaps he walked around in his apartment all the time in his underwear. But still, surely he knew that she could see him, at least, didn’t he?



Of course he did. He turned to look at her again, gave her a saucy grin and wink. He disappeared from view again, and after a few moments returned, pushing an armchair up near the window and dropping down into it. He had a book in hand, but was clearly looking at her, rather than at the page he had opened to.



She wanted to disappear. Then, she noticed that he had pulled his cock out of his underpants and was lazily stroking it up and down. What was this guy doing? She felt a warm swelling in her pussy and realized how turned on she still was. The piano playing had stopped. She heard the door behind her open. Sebastien didn’t move her or come around where she could see him. Rather, he stood behind where she was tied up, and slid his palms over the front of her body, dragging his short nails over her nipples and belly. Her toes curled in pain and pleasure, and she tried to keep it from showing. When Sebastien’s fingers slipped into her, and his palm glided over her clit, she lost the battle, eyes rolling upward and hips jerking.



“M-Maestro, please, someone might see.”



“He doesn’t seem to mind,” came the sarcastic reply behind her. She looked across the way. Sure enough, the blonde man had a hungry expression on his face. He was now standing, freely stroking himself and watching her. “And from the feel of it, neither do you.” Fingering her with one hand, he reached down with his other hand to rapidly rub her clit.



“Ahh, ahh, but I don’t want… ahh,” she gasped.



“Do not lie, mon abeille, it’s unbecoming,” he said in his infuriatingly casual way. Her hips were bucking toward his hands, and the pleasure was mounting in a way that felt most unbearable. “Let us have truth between us. You like the way he is watching you.”



When Claire didn’t answer, he took his fingers away from her clit, leaving her to huff out a breath in frustration. He continued pistoning his fingers in and out of her, bringing her pleasure, but somehow sensing she could never quite be sated that way. She felt that she teetered on the edge, and she knew he would keep her there as long as he pleased anyway, but certainly longer than if she didn’t tell him what he apparently wanted to hear. She nudged her hips forward, trying to get contact between her clit and something, anything.



He brought his fingers down onto it, but in a sharp slap that left her breathless. It hurt, but also sent sharp arrows of pleasure radiating through her.



“Yes, yes!” she cried. The slap came again. She writhed.



“Yes what?” Two more slaps.



“Yes, I want him to watch,” she finally moaned.



“You want me to make you come, even here, where anyone could look?” he taunted in her ear, sliding his fingertip along her clit teasingly.



“Yes, Maestro, yes!”



“Very well, if you insist.” He slapped her clit firmly, four, five, six times and finally she exploded, feeling her abdomen tighten almost painfully as she came. Instead of pulling away, he resumed rubbing her clit, sliding it easily over the moisture that collected there. It was an endless cacophony of moans and gasps, Claire trying helplessly to get away from his probing fingers. In the midst of it all, she noticed that the man in the other apartment was spurting out jets of come all over his window, his eyes burning into her. Sebastien forced another orgasm out of her before withdrawing his fingers.



—–



Suddenly, she felt the painful tightness on her wrists that had probably been there for long minutes and was just now announcing itself to her. Breathing heavily, she glanced at the other apartment. The man was gone, as was the come on his window, his book and chair, and all signs that he had ever been there at all. Odd, she thought. Sebastien came around to the front of her, closing the curtains with a snap.



“We do not need an audience for what comes next.”



“Mmm so you don’t like to fuck in front of strangers?” she asked, a bit sarcastically. He merely gave her an enigmatic smile, and untied her wrists, deftly catching her when her knees refused to hold her up. He picked her up bodily, depositing her gently on her back on the bed that she hadn’t known was in the room. She felt her pussy still twitching occasionally, thick trickles of wetness dripping down between her buttocks. She glanced at Sebastien, standing at the foot of the bed, really seeing him for the first time that day.



Her heart turned over in her chest, and a soft sigh eased out of her. Studying him, she saw no sign that he had been turned on at all by what they had just done. Still, in dark slacks in a shadowed room, perhaps it was only difficult to see.



“Rest, please, and do not move. I promise you this time I will only be gone a moment,” he said. True to his word, he returned a few minutes later, carrying something with him that he placed beside her head. When he sat beside her, she noticed that he was not wearing shoes. He stroked his fingertips lightly up and down the front of her, causing goosebumps to break out everywhere.



“Tell me, mon abeille, what you have done before,” he said. He was being vague, and yet somehow she knew what he meant. Well, what else could he mean, she asked herself.



“I’ve had three boyfriends, seven total partners, none of whom were terribly imaginative, I’ll admit. It was mostly the where and not the how that could be interesting,” she said with a smile, recalling the time she had sex in a tree, in the closet of an ex-boyfriend while the ex himself was lying in bed with a book, in the elevator of a high-class department store, in the backseat of a moving car driven by her boyfriend’s parents. There had been dozens – probably hundreds – of blow jobs, a little roleplaying, a lot of sex, but absolutely no anal sex, or anything coming close to it.



“So you have not tried it… that way?” he inquired.



“No,” Claire admitted. “Girlfriends always told me they hated it, so, I was just never interested.”



“Then I will be your first,” he said, looking down at her seriously. He had said it with finality, but the look he gave her held a hint of question.



She pursed her lips, uncertain. She met his eyes. “I did say I would do whatever you asked, Maestro.”

I love Friday nights. I never used to; it used to be sit-in-the-house-with-a-bottle-of-chardonnay-trying-to-ignore-Keith-enthusing-over-Gardeners’-World night. It used to be Friday night before the children went to their friends’ houses for the weekend and I could sit and mull over my Chardonnay and think of all the terrible, dreadful things that could happen to my babies when they were out of my sight. Occasionally, the sight of some particularly wonderful hellebores or a beautifully landscaped garden would excite Keith to the extent that we would go to bed early, and he would fuck me, (lights off, of course) with me still dry and distracted, doing my wifely duties with my nightdress pushed up around my waist.



He’s been gone almost two years now. It’s been tough on us all, but particularly hard on Emma. She was sixteen, surly and proud the way only know-it-all teenagers can be before they leave home and realise how much they’ve been cosseted. They’d argued, again. Voices had been raised (was it about her having done her French homework? Or about some outfit Keith didn’t approve of her wearing for a night out at Ten Pin Bowling? I can’t remember, now), she’d given him some of her usual cheek and slammed the door behind her and marched up the garden path, her long brown hair swinging behind her. At the gate, she turned and caught me peering through the nets of the bedroom window, and triumphantly flicked me the V sign. She was free. Free to enjoy another Friday night. Jamie, thirteen and full of mischief (and still of the age where farting and V signs to concerned parents are considered hilarious), howled with laughter until I punched him playfully on the arm and told him to bugger off back to his room and finish his maths project.



At that moment, everything changed. Forever.



Keith was lying on the kitchen floor. He’d gone without saying goodbye. Gone whilst Jamie laughed, and Emma stalked down St Swithin’s Drive without a second glance back at the house.



She would never forgive herself for that. Despite the constant reassurances that Keith’s massive heart attack was not her fault; poor Emma was inconsolable. It’s been a tough couple of years, really, but together we’re getting through it. One way or another.



I am stood in the harsh light of the bedroom in my underwear when my mobile plays that irritating crazy frog song that Jamie thought would be hilarious to upload to my phone and I haven’t bothered to remove. A text message. From Steve.



‘Hi babe, c u at usual 2nite?’



I groan both at Steve’s insistence on calling me — a forty year old widow — ‘babe’, and the use of text speak. He’s fifty-two, he can speak in full sentences, but for some reason likes to pretend he’s Jamie’s age whenever he’s texting. Still, I feel a warm glow in the pit of my stomach, a tingle between my legs. If the kids knew where I was going tonight, they’d die.



I briefly consider borrowing something of Emma’s to wear; but she’s much taller than me and, even though my body is not bad for my age, I’m not sure I’m ready to dress like an eighteen year old; even if I am about to head up to the nature reserve, in the middle of night, to meet Steve and God knows who else. I settle for a compromise — a short skirt (skirts really are essential) and a loose-fitting, sheer white blouse. I’m getting rather nervous — I always do before I head up to the reserve — and I consider knocking back a couple of stiff whiskeys. I abstain, however, on the grounds that I’m driving. I’ll save the whiskeys for when Steve and I get back here afterwards. The kids are both out — Jamie is over at Liam’s house for a sleepover (which means zombie movies, pizza and no sleep at all); Emma is out at the cinema with Sasha and Jenny and will probably stay at Sasha’s tonight because Sasha’s mother, of course, is far cooler and does everything better than me. Fine by me, kiddo, if it means I get the house to myself.



10pm. Grab my handbag, lock up the house. I stash my handbag under the passenger seat, you can never be too careful. I fling my denim jacket into the back – for April it is surprisingly mild, even at this late hour. My stomach is turning somersaults now, and I grin nervously to myself as I turn the key in the ignition of the little battered Micra I bought Emma but she was too embarrassed to drive.



If only you knew what happened in this car, dear Emma. Oh, I love Friday night.



I pull into the reserve, follow the dark road down to the shore-side car park; my heart in my mouth now, so excited and yet petrified. Anything could happen down here, I’ve heard some stories. They never make the press, so whether they are urban myth or because those involved don’t want to be identified, I’m not sure. Still, I’m a grown woman. I’ve learned a lot these past few months, thanks to Steve.



Aye, look at me now, Keith. No Gardeners’ World and lights-off-nighty-up-five-minute-bored-shagging now, eh?



Unusually, the car park is deserted. I check the time, almost 11pm. I kill the lights; roll down the window, light a cigarette with shaking hands. I think about texting Steve, but I figure he might be already here, might have started enjoying his Friday night without me. It doesn’t bother me, really. I’d be a bit of a hypocrite to complain about him fucking random strangers, wouldn’t I?



He usually walks down here, his car has a private number plate too easy to identify; so I peer out into the darkness, listening intently in case I hear his voice in amongst the trees. I don’t turn the radio on — that’s the sign that you’re available and approachable, and not just here to innocently walk your dog — I just sit in the silence and wait. For Steve, and whoever he has picked out for me tonight. It’s never just Steve.



Damn, I’m turned on. I find that the expectation of it all, the not knowing who Steve will bring to me, is nine-tenths of the thrill. To be honest, the fucking isn’t usually that great. All that fumbling with condoms, those blokes who have had one too many pints as Dutch courage, the stench of sweat and fags and beery-breath as they suck and lick at me, it doesn’t do anything for me. I enjoy sucking them off, having them cum on me. I enjoy the knowing that I am cheap, and being used, as I’m fucked over the bonnet of the car. A million miles from Gardeners’ World. I enjoy being a slut; that’s what gets me off.



I’m starting to get annoyed now, it’s getting late and I need a fuck. OK, I need several fucks. I undo a couple of buttons on my blouse, move my knickers to the side and start to play with myself to pass the time. I close my eyes; breathe in the night air mixed with the smell of my cigarette which now smoulders on the ground outside.



The sound of tyres on the gravel. I have company. About bloody time, too.



It’s a big car, something smart. A Mercedes, I think. Not the typical car you see here on a Friday night. It pulls into a space in front of me. For some reason, I slide down in my seat. This isn’t Steve, and I doubt it’s one of his friends from the Royal Oak, not in that car. I’m suddenly nervous; I don’t want to be seen. I’m glad I don’t have the radio on. Fucking hell, Steve. Where are you?



A man gets out of the car, closes the door gently. Smartly dressed, not the usual jeans and hoodies you see here. Three-Quarter length coat, looks like wool. Dark trousers. Proper shoes, not trainers. I slide further down in my seat, peering over the top of the steering wheel.



He walks round to the passenger side and opens the door. I am charmed by his chivalry, and notice he is wearing dark gloves. Probably leather, he looks the sort.



His passenger is female. Tall, slim, her dark hair loose down her back. She seems to be wearing a floor length evening dress — I have one similar, I haven’t worn it for years, not since I went to one of Keith’s boring Christmas work functions. Millions of years ago.



Do they know what this car park is used for? What the Hell are they doing, here, on a Friday night, dressed like that? Who the fuck comes from some fancy night out to a well-known dogging spot? I wonder if I should warn them that this isn’t the best place for a moonlit stroll along the banks of the man-made lake.



He speaks. Clearly, but softly.



‘You understand what is expected of you?’



The woman nods.



‘You promise to comply with our demands, verbal or otherwise?’



Another nod. The man reaches behind her and starts to wrap something around her head, covering her eyes. It glints in the moonlight. Plastic.



‘Come, child’ he says, standing behind her and putting both hands on her shoulders to guide her.



I watch them disappear into the darkness, him propelling her forward as she tries not to stumble. I realise that my heart is beating rapidly, and my knickers are soaked.



11.30pm, and still no sign of Steve. I’m a ball of frustration heading towards anger, yet I am intrigued by the strange couple. I know it is foolhardy to wander away from the car without a male escort, but I find myself closing the car door as softly as I can, and moving quietly to the path the couple disappeared down.



The path, fortunately, is well lit by the moon, and I can see clearly enough that I don’t trip over any tree roots or beer cans that cover the route. I giggle to myself, what the fuck am I doing? Wandering around a well known dogging spot, on my own, with a tiny skirt and heels on? I must look quite a sight, it’s a shame that Steve is missing this, the feckless bastard.



There they are, in the clearing. I find a vantage point beneath a rhododendron that allows me a full view of proceedings whilst giving me full camouflage. I can crouch here silently, nobody will know I am here. I pray I don’t sneeze.



She kneels before him, still blindfold. She has her back to me, I watch as he unzips his trousers and feeds his cock into her mouth. She’ll ruin that dress, kneeling on the damp ground like that.



There is movement, suddenly, all around the clearing. Six men, advancing on the couple as though they are playing some kind of sneaking-up game, the sort of thing we used to play in Brownies, one girl blindfolded in the centre of the circle protecting a bunch of Brown Owl’s keys.



‘Good evening, gentlemen’ the stranger says, in the same soft but clear tone I heard before. ‘Here she is’.



‘Do what you will’



I crouch beneath the rhododendron, transfixed by the scene before me. I watch, my heart beating so loudly I think they will hear me, as they approach the girl, unzipping their trousers.



I’ve seen this before, fuck — I’ve done this before. But this seems, somehow, different. The man steps back, his expression completely blank; but his eyes never leaving her face.



I watch as they force their cocks into her mouth. I watch as they remove that dress, roughly, to leave her naked, exposed. I watch as she is covered in their cum; as she sucks, and gags. As she is slapped, and her beautiful long hair is pulled.



I’m wetter than ever. When they shove her, face-first onto the ground to fuck her, I start to finger myself; I can’t help myself. I want to be her, this strange girl with her strange dress, naked and defiled in the moonlit clearing.



I hear moaning, whimpering…there is one man underneath her now, fucking her; while one is rubbing her arsehole, preparing to fuck her there. The other four men are gathered around her face, their cocks taking turns to gag her. Her companion, the one who brought her here, still stands back, watching, expressionless.



A stifled scream, a thrust, and her arse is filled.



An orgasm shudders through me, and I collapse to my knees, my fingers sticky and my head full of the sound of my blood coursing through my veins.



My blood suddenly runs cold. Something is wrong….the moans, the whimpers — it’s not pleasure I hear, not from the girl. It’s pain, and panic. She’s starting to speak now, in soft whispers….stop…please stop…not this…no, no….Sir…please…..



Her words become sobs, I can no longer hear the imploring; just the sound of a girl who has gone too far, who wants to stop. Who’s not allowed to stop.



I can’t stand it. I can’t watch anymore. I look at her companion, his expressionless face; I look at the men fucking this girl like an animal. I look down at my own, sticky fingers and I am ashamed.



I don’t remember getting back to the car. I know I ran, because I’m panting for breath. Safe in the passenger seat, with enough time passed to know that they have not heard me, and followed me; I light another cigarette. It makes me giddy, and I want to throw up. You fucking bastard, Steve. Where are you? Why did you leave me here on my own?



I reach for my mobile in my handbag to check for texts. Nothing. Cunt. Fucking bastard cunt.



I’m texting him a spiteful message with trembling hands when I hear footsteps. It’s them. I slide down once more in my seat; I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.



She’s wearing the dress, with his three-quarter length coat draped around her shoulders. She’s still sobbing softly, and shaking, as he opens the passenger door for her. He bends to kiss her and, as he does, she turns her head and I see her face in the moonlight for the first time.



Emma.

Daniel Vogel walked into the house and ran up the stairs to his room. He dropped his knapsack onto the floor, flung his jacket onto the bed and ran to the window. He separated the blinds slowly and only a crack, enough to see out onto the driveway next door. He waited for what was coming, the same thing he had waited to see each day for the past month. He didn’t have long to wait. A small red Jeep turned from the street and came to a stop beside the house next door. The driver’s side door opened and out stepped who he had been waiting to see.



Two months earlier, the family who had lived there since before he had been born had moved out. A couple, the Siglers, a bit older than his parents, had moved in. Daniel had been ambivalent about it. The former neighbor’s kids had been slightly older than Daniel and had never been close friends of his other than the occasional pickup basketball game. He and his parents had done the neighborly thing and gone out to greet the new couple. He had learned that they had a daughter who was away at school but no other kids. He put it in the back of his mind figuring that he might be able to pick up some pocket money by shoveling a sidewalk of snow or mowing a lawn for them. Otherwise, their moving into the neighborhood held little interest for the college freshman.



Everything had changed after their daughter, Tracy, had graduated from college and moved back in with her parents. The first time Daniel had seen Tracy, he had been immediately struck by how attractive she was. Her shoulder length dark hair framed a pale complexion, a look that Daniel thought of as slightly “goth” and something he very much liked. They had exchanged a few words here or there but never had much contact beyond the occasional wave hello. But his detached air had been a facade from the beginning and Daniel’s interactions with her had been really been a one-sided affair. Tracy on the outside and Daniel peering at her through the blinds.



Daniel stared out the window. Tracy was coming home from her work as a nurse for a local clinic and was wearing the light blue scrubs that he liked seeing on her. For some reason seeing her fully clothed the way she was a bigger turn on than imagining her naked; although he did plenty of that as well. The bottoms of the scrubs were loose in the legs but got a lot tighter around the hips. Tracy had shapely hips that he very much liked and they caused the material of her pants to spread across an ass that Daniel couldn’t get enough of seeing. Skinny ones did nothing for him but Tracy’s was what he considered perfect. As he stared out the window, his hand went down to the front of his jeans and he started rubbing, hoping she would stay outside long enough for him to at least get himself hard.



This day he was lucky. As she was heading up the steps to the house, she paused to check her phone and answered a call which delayed her entry inside. Daniel took the opportunity to unzip his pants and pull his cock out. It was already hard and he closed his hand around it and started jerking off. His thoughts went to her ass and he imagined all the things he’d do with it. Daniel fantasized about slowly pulling the scrubs down, followed by the panties and pushing his nose between her cheeks, taking a deep breath of her scent. He would slowly tease her asshole with his tongue, tasting her beautiful ass as he got her wet with his spit. He would get his tongue as deep as he could inside her, lubing her with his mouth, enough to be able to slip a finger inside her bottom. The warmth surrounding his finger and then two fingers. It wasn’t all he wanted to put inside her ass because after his fingers he would bend her over and…



He came. In big spurts that splashed on the wall below the window. He grunted as his cock jerked in his hand and he felt that muscle between his balls and asshole tighten. Daniel lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked off the semen that covered it just as Tracy ended her phone call. She paused for a moment and turned her head to face his window. Daniel let go to the blinds immediately and hoped she hadn’t seen anything. She looked around to the street, shrugged and went inside. He quickly grabbed some tissues to wipe himself off before zipping up and to clean off the mess he had left on the wall — certainly not the first time that had happened. He got himself together in time to see his mother’s car pull into their driveway.



Daniel picked up his knapsack and pulled out his laptop. He got on the bed and started on his homework, his body satisfied for the moment but his mind still looking at Tracy.



***



That evening after dinner, Daniel sat in his room, at his computer and chatted with friends. His phone buzzed with a text message and he picked it up to see which on of his friends it was. The number was one he didn’t recognize. He was about to ignore it as spam but clicked on it anyway.



The message was only four words, “Have fun watching me?”



Daniel felt a cold sweat and his hands shook as he slowly typed back, “Who is this?”



He waited what seemed like an inordinately long time until the answer came back, “Tracy.”



Daniel felt a panic growing and didn’t know what to do. He had thoughts of his parents being told about what he’d been up to and could only imagine what their reaction would be. What would the neighborhood think because there was no way this would stay quiet. He would be the creepy kid that people looked at funny and kept away from.



He looked down at the phone and quickly typed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it and I promise not to do it again.”



“How long have you been watching?”



“About a month”, he typed. “How long have you known?”



“A couple of days. I saw you out of the corner of my eye.”



“Sorry”, he wrote.



Her reply came thirty seconds later, “Midnight. My window faces the backyard. Be there.”



He looked at the words on the screen over and over again trying to make some sense of what she was saying. He pushed down any of his usual porn-like thoughts and wondered if she wanted to talk in private. Maybe he could apologize in person and that would do the trick. He hoped she wouldn’t blackmail him, it’s not like he had a lot of money. Daniel looked at the phone again and lay back on his bed thinking. He was too bothered by what had just happened to even imagine being aroused at the thought of Tracy.



Hours later, his parents in bed with their door closed, Daniel sneaked down the stairs as quietly as he could. He made his way through the kitchen and the door leading to the backyard. He made sure it wasn’t locked and closed it behind him. He listened but heard nothing going on in the neighborhood at that late hour. He walked across the grass and climbed over the short chain-link fence and into the neighbor’s yard. The lights were out in the house except for one window, exactly where she had told him her room was located. Daniel took a deep, nervous breath and crept up to the window.



He peered inside and saw Tracy sitting on the edge of her bed dressed in her scrubs looking like she was waiting. She looked up and Daniel stopped himself from ducking out of the way. Their eyes met for only a moment but he knew she saw him standing at the window. He watched as she stood up and then turned around to lay on the bed face down. She lowered her scrubs without hesitation and Daniel got a glimpse of her white panties. She hooked her fingers into the waistband and lowered them as well, exposing her bottom to the air and Daniel’s view.



Daniel’s heart skipped as he realized she was giving him a private show. He couldn’t understand why. Wasn’t she upset with him? Maybe she liked being watched. Maybe she liked him and hadn’t said anything. He didn’t care at that moment, he just wanted to watch her. He was seeing what he had fantasized about seeing for a month and wasn’t going to miss a moment of viewing. His hand started rubbing his crotch through his jeans and he focused on what was happening.



Tracy opened the nightstand drawer and took out a small bottle and squeezed a liquid onto her fingers. She reached back and rubbed it between her cheeks. Daniel could easily see that she was sliding a finger into her ass, working whatever it was into herself. He was so excited that he didn’t care who saw at that moment. He took his cock out and started masturbating, his eyes never leaving her for a moment. Tracy stopped fingering herself and reached into the dresser and pulled out a small object. Daniel couldn’t tell what it was. She fiddled with it and then reached back to her ass again. When she pulled her hand away, he could see what it was. A rectal thermometer was sitting up from between her cheeks. She was taking her own temperature in a way that Daniel dreamed about all the time. There were times that he wished he could have had the nerve to do that with a girlfriend or two or have them do it to him. But it never happened and he had held onto the fantasy for many years. Now he was watching it come true before his eyes. The thought of it and the sight of the thermometer buried in her asshole was too much for him and he came, spurting his cum on the ground outside her window.



She lay there for several minutes, the thermometer in her ass, while Daniel kept watching. He was finished and had put his cock back in his pants but the scene was too exciting for him to look away for a second. Tracy reached back and pulled out the thermometer, looking at the reading before setting it down on her dresser. She got up from the bed and pulled a tissue from the box next to her. She walked over to the window and turned her ass towards him. He felt his cock getting hard again. Daniel tried to open the window but it was locked. He wanted to touch her ass so badly but knew he had to be satisfied with the view. Tracy bent over and spread her legs which pulled her cheeks apart, enough for Daniel to see between them. She reached back with the tissue and wiped her asshole in front of him, taking her time as she did it. Daniel could not believe what he was seeing.



She finished and folded the tissue. She turned around and unlocked the window, opening it enough to push the tissue under it towards Daniel. He took it and immediately lifted it to his nose to smell. She looked down at him and smiled seeing the look on his face.



The curtain closed and the light went out. Daniel stood there for a moment but came to his senses quickly and climbed the fence back to his yard. He went inside and up to his room, closing the door behind him. He took off his pants and got in bed, his hand on his cock, the tissue at his face. It didn’t take long and he used her tissue to catch his semen.



Had it been a dream, he thought, the wet tissue in his hand. Daniel’s cellphone vibrated and he grabbed it quickly. It was a message from Tracy.



“Hope you liked the show. See you again tomorrow night?”



Daniel’s mouth hung open and then curled into a smile. He lay back on his bed for the night with many thoughts in his head.

NC-18 — No characters under the age of 18 are depicted in this story.



This is a copyrighted original work of erotic fiction. All rights reserved.




*



Carlie opened the door to the stairwell and started up the stairs. Shame she didn’t think to look behind the door.



She made it to the landing outside the door on my floor and had just barely gotten her hand on the handle when an arm suddenly appeared on either side of her shoulders and pressed firmly into the door to keep it from opening.



“Where ya goin’, Carlie?” I growled in her ear.



She gasped and I pulled my torso and head back as she spun to find herself trapped between my arms, my chest and the door.



“Oh, hi! I was just coming to your room.”



“Oh, you’ll get there,” I growled. “Eventually. But not just yet.”



I leaned in a little bit with a wicked grin and said, “We’ve got places to go.”



Her eyes widened as I leaned in a little more and made it a point to pause as I looked down at her body. “Things to see.”



I met her eyes, leaned in the last little bit and grumbled right in her ear, “And you to do.” She shivered.



I pulled back a little and growled, “Lift your arms above your head.”



She started to lift her arms out to the sides, jumping-jack style, before I growled again and she realized it was because she couldn’t lift her arms without touching mine, which were still pinning the door shut.



She looked me in the eyes and said, “Um?”



I pulled back a little more — a very little, and said, “Figure it out, little girl.”



She lowered her arms, then crossed one carefully across her torso before lifting it through my arms while being careful to not touch mine. I was close enough that first her forearm pushed one breast up and then let it drop then her upper arm pushed the other one up and let it drop as it slid past. Her nipples had been showing a little before, but they were definitely showing now.



Once that arm was above her head she repeated the process. When her arm nearly touched mine I growled at her again and she slowed to be more careful until it, too was above her head. Now both of her nipples were perked up quite nicely beneath her thin top.



And, just like Alexandra, she crossed her wrists. She didn’t extend her arms all the way, which allowed her to cross them at pretty-much a square angle not far above her head.



I pushed back slightly and reached my left hand up and put my thumb beneath her wrists and my fingers above to grasp her wrists and hold them in place.



“I see you understood my message and wore a skirt. What have you got under here for me, Carlie?” I asked as I reached down to the front of her hip and began to pull the fabric of her just-above-the-knee length skirt up with my fingertips and gathered it in my palm, slowly raising her hemline as I dragged the material against her thigh.



I wasn’t watching my hand though. Or her long shapely legs as they came into view. I was watching her eyes as they looked straight across into mine.



They drifted shut, but the lids were fluttering a little and she was breathing heavily as her skirt slowly crept its way up her thigh. But that wasn’t what I was watching for.



There it was! Her eyes shot open and flicked straight to the security camera in the corner.



“Whatcha lookin’ at, Carlie? Afraid the duty manager might be watching?” No response.



“Or did it just occur to you that, instead of having to tell them what I did to you, Alex and Kelsey are going to be able to watch at least some of it on their very own copies?” Her eyes rolled upward a little, then the lids slowly closed and she shivered and moaned audibly. I could feel her hip ease slightly forward into my hand as her pussy hunched up toward me.



“I knew that would turn you on. Knowing that your friends are going to be watching and wondering what you wore under this skirt, too?” She moaned again and her eyes opened, flicked to the camera and then flicked back to mine. There was no mistaking the lust in those eyes.



I abandoned trying to lift her skirt then and let it drop back into place and she groaned in frustration.



Instead, I began to pull the bottom of her blouse out from the waistband of her skirt.



I didn’t “yank it out like I was in charge”. I pulled it out a little at a time — because I WAS in charge. I pulled a little in the front, then pulled a little in the back, then on one side, then the other, but always slowly, seeing in her eyes that the delay was increasing the tension. As I pulled the blouse upward on each side I used my foot to ease her bare foot on that side outward a little.



Her eyes were making a circuit now. She’d look in my eyes, then down to my hand moving around her body, then over to the camera, then back to my eyes.



I eventually pulled the last little bit of her blouse out of her waistband, then reached to the center of her body and began to slowly unbutton it from the bottom up. By this time her feet were far enough apart that her thighs were starting to make the material of her skirt climb upward on its own.



As I unbuttoned each button, the tension on it caused by her hands being over her head exposed more and more of her belly she began to shiver slightly pretty much continuously. It was a little cooler in the stairwell than it would be on the other side of the door, but I suspected her shivering and the goose-bumps popping out on her skin had less to do with the temperature and more to do with what she was feeling.



And it was obvious that the same sensations were causing the piloerection of the fine hairs on her body and were continuing to cause the erection of her nipples, which looked like they were trying to force their way through her thin, silky blouse. Shit, if they got any harder and pointier they’d be able to CUT their way through.



I continued to slowly unbutton her blouse (where the fuck had she gotten one with this many buttons and why the fuck did she decide to wear it this morning?) until the naked skin between her breasts began to be exposed. I didn’t immediately pull the gap apart, just continued to slowly unbutton the last few buttons.



After I unbuttoned the last one I reached up with my hand and she closed her eyes and leaned into my fingertips as I ran them across her temple and through the hair on the side of her head, up and over her ear, letting the side of my little finger just barely graze the super-fine hairs on the edge of her ear. Her body shuddered and she moaned as her hips bucked forward again.



As my hand continued on around, my fingertips moved down the side of her neck and started out along the top of her shoulder.



I heard and felt her intake of breath as she expected her breast and nipple to be exposed to me — and to her friends on the camera.



Instead, I slid my fingertips down across her collarbone inside the blouse and further down across her chest until they were just to the outside of her nipple. Then I spread my fingers and dragged the tip of my middle and ring fingers just above and below her nipple. She arched her back and wriggled, trying to get them to make contact.



I slid my fingertips back across her sternum then up the front of her neck and out to her shoulder before continuing down over her breast and repeated the near-miss (near-touch, actually) of her nipple.



Instead of going back to the first breast, I dragged my fingertips down her sternum then down the middle of her belly to her skirt. I slipped the tips inside the waistband and pulled the front down a little, then slid them around to her right side and pulled it down a little before dragging the nails across her lower belly to her left and tugging it down slightly as well.



I pulled them back to the middle and started to drag the back of my nails lightly back up her belly. This time I was watching my hand and that allowed me to see the subtle movements of the muscles under her skin as she tried to de-conflict the impulse to shy away from the tickle and the desire to stay there to prolong the contact.



I only pulled my fingers up a little though. Then I quickly twisted my hips and torso to the side as I turned my hand around and shot it down the front of her skirt.



Her eyes snapped open and straight to the camera and her body quivered like a taut string as my fingertips split her slit and ran down the small wet space between her inner and outer lips.



I didn’t slip the tips inside her dripping cunt. Instead I let them continue on down until they were resting just on her perineum. This caused the heel of my palm to come to rest on her clit. I ground it into her pussy once or twice and Carlie pushed her hips forward into it until her hips were a few inches from the door.



Then I began to push back and she looked at me in surprise as my hand slowly forced her hips backward in spite of her attempt to stop me. I glanced down to watch the play of her abdominal muscles now as she tried to fight my strength.



Her surprise turned almost to astonishment when I looked into her eyes and forced her hips all the way back against the door, but then turned to actual astonishment as I braced my feet and legs, flexed my arm and began to lift her up onto her toes. As the weight came off her feet her toes started to slide across the floor. I stopped lifting and growled. She caught my intent and flexed her thighs to keep her feet spread.



I only lifted her a little more and didn’t hold her there long, just far and long enough for her to know I could.



I lowered her slowly and as soon as she had enough weight on her feet she began to grind her pussy into my hand and my fingers got wetter.



Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I pulled my hand out of her skirt and lightly swatted her on the nose with the tips of my middle and ring fingers as I leaned in and growled, “Nnnoooo! You don’t get to decide how much pressure you get on your little clit. Only I get to do that.”



I watched her nostrils flare as she inhaled the musk of her own juices over and over again now that the tip of her cute little nose was liberally covered in them.



“Well, what should I do with you now, little girl? Should I congratulate you on having taken the initiative to meet me with no underwear on? Or should I punish you for thinking you could rush or control the situation.” By the shudder that ran through her body when I said “punish” I knew what had just occurred to her.



I glanced around the stairwell and considered sitting on a step and dragging her across my lap, but a hasty check of the camera lines ruled that out — she wouldn’t be visible through the railing.



I tightened my grip on her wrists and lifted them until she was up on her toes — but her legs were still spread. “Good girl for keeping the legs spread, but that won’t keep you from getting the punishment you deserve. Walk this way.” I hooked two fingers in the front of her skirt and used it to indicate for her to walk back over to the stairs.



I led her down four stairs, then grabbed her by the hip and used it to force her to turn around, then I edged her over closer to the wall.



“Lean forward and grab the lip of that top stair, little girl,” I growled and she did, making her body bend at a little more than a 90-degree angle.



I very deliberately didn’t flip her skirt up over her ass onto her back to expose her naked ass cheeks.



Don’t worry. I didn’t spank her through the skirt.



Instead of flipping her skirt up, I hooked the tips of my thumbs under the waistband and lifted it as I reached out as far as I could with my fingertips, dragged that material upward and then tucked it as far as I could back up under the waistband. I did that in several places around her waist.



THEN I flipped what very little remained over the waistband.



I stepped into her and braced my left hip against her left hip, then reached across with my left hand and rested my thumb on her hipbone with my fingers dangling over her side.



I took my right hand and ran it lightly over the skin of her left ass cheek from top to bottom, just barely making contact with it. When I got to the bottom I switched to the other cheek and ran it back up, still just barely making contact and she shivered again as she broke back out in chicken-skin.



I pulled my hand away and took a quick inhale. She flinched.



“What’d you flinch for, Carlie?” I asked — no growl this time, just a polite conversational tone.



She started to say something and I cut her off. “Doesn’t matter. But I have to tell you that it’s not going to help.”



I took another quick inhale and she flinched again.



I took another quick inhale and she stayed still this time. But only for a second.



Only for a second because that’s when I bore down with my left thumb to pin her hip more firmly against mine and dragged the tips of my fingers very lightly across the skin of her side.



As she squealed and squirmed to get away from the tickle I brought my right hand down and around and under, then back up and impacted the underside of her left ass cheek with my cupped hand.



With my hand cupped to almost match the curve of her under-cheek there was more noise from the clap than actual impact, but there was still impact and her head snapped up as she gasped and her knees gave just a little.



I stepped one step farther down with my right foot then slipped my left leg across in front of her thighs to brace her thigh into the front of my hip vice against the side. I eased back a few inches then used my left thumb to pull her hips back to meet mine, causing her to spread her legs by a small distance.



I took a quick inhale and she stayed still. I dragged my fingers up her side and through her squirm I could feel her tense up and start to rise up a bit, but no blow fell.



I took another quick inhale and she stayed still, which is when the blow landed on the underside of her right ass cheek.



The trick was to not telegraph the inbound swat by allowing my hips to move.



I delivered several more swats to her ass from that position until I felt her move a little. When I glanced at her I saw that she was craning her neck around to look into the camera.



“Oh, are you afraid Alex and Kelsey won’t be able to see your face at the same time as I pop your cute little ass?” I asked, still in a conversational tone. Again, her shiver gave her away.



“I can do something about that.” Another shiver.



I stepped away from her and down a few steps to clear the camera lines then turned to face her.



She was looking over her shoulder and grinning at the camera — until she heard the sound of my belt buckle being undone. Then she ducked her head straight down to look at me between her legs. Since they were only spread as far as they were, she could only see with one eye at a time.



As I slowly started to pull my belt through the loops on my trousers I watched her left foot. As soon as I saw it start to wriggle slightly sideways I “cleared leather” by yanking the belt the rest of the way through the last few loops, spun it up and over my right shoulder, the brought it down so the last six inches or so landed on her left ass cheek.



Her head snapped up as soon as it landed and I could hear her whimper a little.



I doubled the belt over and slapped it lightly and loosely into the inside of her left calf. “NOW you can move your foot, little girl.”



She didn’t.



“Ah. So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”



I pulled it up, grabbed the very end of the looped portion of the belt in my left hand and pushed my hands slightly together to create a gap. Then I pulled them forcefully apart to make the leather of belt snap together and make a sharp slapping sound.



She flinched, but then realized no blow had landed.



Her head dropped and I saw just the one eye peering between her legs again.



I pulled the doubled-up belt over to my right and then shifted my body to the left as I brought the end of it smartly into the barely-visible inside of her left thigh.



That got her left foot to move just a little and as it carried on through the follow-through I brought it straight back across to impact the inside of her right thigh.



She moved her right foot a little to the right.



I repeated the move several more times, making sure to spread the impacts up and down the inside of her thighs and only above the top of her knees.



None of the blows was hard enough to even leave a bruise — unless she was seriously prone to bruising. Based on the tint of her skin I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be sporting bruises from this little exercise.



At some point her right foot came to rest against the side of the stairwell, but I continued to match the blows on either side. Her head dropped down again and she made a quizzical sound as another pop landed on the inside of her right thigh.



“I know it won’t go any farther. I’m just making sure both thighs get the attention they deserve. Both now and later.”



By that time I was satisfied with how far apart her feet were and I began to spread the impacts around her pert ass and over the rest of her thighs.



Some of the blows landed flatly on the outside of her thighs now.



Some landed flatly on the cheeks of her ass.



Some were bare whispers across the backs of her thighs.



None were the mirror image of the previous — at least not immediately. They matched almost perfectly, but where the first might be up on her left cheek, the next might be on the outside of her right thigh. This kept her constantly in suspense as to where the next contact would be.



Her head was now bobbing, but not anywhere near rhythmically. She’d look through her spread legs back at me, the belt would land, her head would pop up in response to the impact, then her face would appear as she looked over her shoulder at the camera with a mixture of expressions on her face.



Have you ever seen one of those kid’s books that are divided on sets of horizontal millboard and the sections can flipped over to make different combinations of faces?



This was almost like that. But not quite.



Her mouth was stretched into a huge almost humorous grin and I could see a little trickle of saliva on the left side of it.



But her eyes?



Her eyes had the most interesting combination of satisfaction and lust and pain and desire for the spanking to quit and desire for the spanking to continue that I’ve ever seen. And the expression wasn’t cycling through those looks. All of them were there at the same time.



Her mouth wasn’t the only thing trickling liquid.



As the color bloomed on her thighs and ass it had bloomed in her pussy as well. And those lips had begun to drool even more of their own sweet, intoxicating scent.



“That was a nice little warm-up. Ready to go to my room?” I asked as I put my belt back through the loops.



I was unsurprised when she didn’t immediately jump up. Nor was I unsurprised when she looked over her shoulder first at the camera then at me as she slowly gyrated her hips causing her pussy to alternately pull away as if to hide, then thrust out at me as if to get my attention.



I laughed out loud, but quickly followed that up with, “Oh, I know you’d sooooo like to get fucking drilled on camera, right here, right now. But that’s not in my plan for this morning. So, up you come!” This last was said as I stepped up behind her to place a palm on each of her breasts, braced my elbows on the edges of the small of her back and helped her back into a standing position.



As soon as she stood up she started to walk up the stairs. At least she tried to.



When just the pressure of my hands didn’t seem to be enough to keep her from climbing I moved my hands slightly and grabbed her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. A gentle squeeze and downward tug (okay, maybe not quite so gentle) clued her in that climbing might not be such a good idea.’



“Where do you think you’re going?”



“If you’re not going to ‘drill’ me ‘right here, right now’ I figured you planned on taking me to your room. You said I’d be going there this morning.”



“See. There you go again, Carlie. Thinking you’re in charge or something. Silly girl. You’re partially correct, though. We are going to my room. We’re just not going directly there. Now at least try to be a good girl and put your hands behind your back.”



Once her hands were behind her back I unbuttoned all the buttons at the cuffs of her blouse. I pulled them so her wrists would pass through the sleeve plackets then pulled the cuffs closer together. I twisted the cuffs as necessary so the button of one cuff was through the buttonhole of the other and vice versa.



“Try to unbutton your sleeves, Carlie,” I growled.



I watched for several seconds as she attempted to undo the buttons but she was unable to even get her fingers on them.



“Oh, no, Carlie!” Whatever will you do? You can’t undo your cuffs? Why, they seem almost as effective as handcuffs, huh? Now, turn around, please.” Yeah, to all you “purists” I shouldn’t have said “please”, but it never hurts to be polite.



“There you go. Good girl.” I pulled her blouse down all around and pulled the two parts of the front placket together and began to button it from the bottom up.



As I buttoned it I made sure that her breasts were exposed. By making the occasional tug or tuck or nudge I managed to get it buttoned almost all the way to the bottom of her breasts before I couldn’t do any more of the buttons up. By this time her breasts had been pulled inward and upward by the material to give her a fantastic cleavage — except “cleavage” is usually what’s revealed in the neckline of the blouse. This was just beautiful, exposed, pressed-together boobs capped by some fiercely-erect nipples.



“Alright. Now we’re ready. Let’s go.”



Carlie turned around again then almost screamed as my hand came thundering down on her already sensitive right cheek.



“Not that way, Carlie.”



“But your room is up here.”



“And that’s where we’re going. We’re just not going directly there. Now get down her in front of me.”



She stepped down in front of me on the steps and stopped.



“Good girl! I didn’t have to tell you when to stop. Now keep going. I WILL tell you when to stop.”



We walked down the stairs all the way to the first floor and she paused only slightly on each of the landings by the doors to the other floors.



When we got to the inside of the first-floor stairwell door, I said, “Stop. Are you excited, Carlie? Did you enjoy smiling at the cameras all the way down here?” I walked around in front of her and saw her flushed face. “Did you enjoy showing your titties to your friends? Does it turn you on to know that they’re going to be seeing you parading down the stairs? With your titties exposed? And your flaming red ass and thighs exposed? And your dripping wet pussy showing out from under the front of your skirt?” Her blush deepened as I asked the questions.



She nodded.



“Out loud, Carlie.”



“How did you know?”



“How did I know which?”



“That I was enjoying it? You were behind me.”



“I could see your cheeks move when you smiled — and you smiled all the way down the stairs. You weren’t quite careful enough to turn your head all the way away from me as you passed. You waggled your chest as you walked and I know the difference between a shiver and a shimmy. You paused for a split-second and pushed your hips forward as you came to the edge of each landing before you started to step down. And you made it a point to take the first step down off each landing really wide.”



” Yes. It turned me on.”



“What did, Carlie?”



“It turned me on to know my friends are going to be seeing me walk down these stairs with my titties exposed, with my ass exposed, and my wet fucking pussy juices dripping down my thighs and glistening in the lights. Now can we please go to your room? I’m so turned on I need to be fucked hard as soon as you can get your cock in me.”



“Still haven’t learned, have you Carlie? You’re not calling the shots. Even if you did ask. But your request was impolite. You didn’t say ‘please’.”



“Please?”



“Too late. Now come on.” And I opened the door from the stairwell to the hallway.



I swear that up until that exact moment she thought we were just going to go right back up the stairs.



Silly girl. Her jaw literally dropped in disbelief, then she pulled it up and if anything, her smile got bigger.



She started to turn to the right toward the elevator then gasped as my fingertips grazed her ass cheeks again.



“Carlie, Carlie, Carlie. Still thinking you know what’s going on? Turn the other way and walk.”



I stepped in front of her and opened the door to the sidewalk bordering the parking lot. To her credit there was only the slightest of pauses as she crossed the threshold. Also to her credit, she stopped when she got to the edge of the sidewalk. Whether that was to await directions, to look slowly around the parking lot in case there might be someone out there to see her in this situation, or to then smile broadly at that camera or not was of no concern to me.



“Turn left and walk, little girl.” This was going to take her past the front doors and I could see her starting to angle away from them, hoping she would be far enough away that they wouldn’t open. Being the guy I am I let her get away with it for a while. But only a little while.



Just as she thought she was going to be able to get past them without them opening I grabbed her by the left elbow and steered her straight toward them.



This time there was a slightly longer hesitation, which was solved with another small slap to her ass. She stepped off, but very slowly.



“What’s the matter, Carlie? Are you wondering if the night clerk comes to the desk every time he hears the front doors open?” She shivered as we crossed the threshold of the outer sliding doors. “It was okay when you thought it was just your friends watching on the video? But now you might get seen in person? By someone other than your friends?” Shudder. Moan. We crossed the threshold of the inner sliding doors. “Tell me Carlie, are you walking slowly because you hope the longer it takes the more likely it is that he’ll come out and look?”



That got her moving a little more quickly, but only a little.



“We’ll be going to the elevator once we get past the desk this time,” I informed her.



She managed to maintain her pace and started doing the model walk, crossing one foot in front of the other as she walked to emphasize the movement of her hips. And instead of walking directly past the desk, where she might have been partially hidden by the raised portion of it, she took the long way around the chairs in the reception area.



That earned her a light swat. “Sexy little minx!” I could see her smile and her shoulders came back just a bit more to better display her tits.



She kept that up until we passed the door to the office, which is when I reached over, grabbed the handle to the kitchen door opposite the office, rattled it slightly and gave a greatly exaggerated gasp.



She squealed and bolted for the elevator.



She got there before I did — obviously. I stood back a few feet as I watched her try to find the button with her hands behind her back.



I was impressed when it occurred to her to turn around, step back and use her left big toe to push it. I was also impressed that she thought to turn toward me so lifting her leg that way exposed her glistening pussy as it spread open. Her smile spread open again, too and she giggled.



Since it was early morning, the elevator was already on the first floor and the door opened almost immediately and she darted in.



I took my time with entering and paused for several seconds blocking the beam of the photocell to keep the door open longer. Carlie was almost hopping with impatience.



Once I was inside I stepped toward her, which caused her to back into that corner of the elevator.



“You know which floor, don’t you?”



She nodded.



“Then why haven’t you pushed the button yet, miss impatience?”



She started to step toward the control panel and I stopped her with a curt, growled, “Unh uh.”



She looked at me quizzically, but only for a split-second, then she glanced up at the camera in the corner, moved back, turned and leaned into the corner and slowly lifted her right leg up to touch the button for my floor. But with a wicked grin she kept her leg raised and extended and also pushed the buttons for all the floors below it, too.



“Good girl, Carlie! This one time I won’t punish you for trying to take control. “But you may wish you hadn’t done that. Now, put that sexy fucking leg down and unzip my trousers.”



She dropped the leg with another wicked smile and started to turn around to use her hands.



“N-n-n-n-o-o-o-o-o. On your knees, little girl.” Her smile turned from wicked to pleased very quickly. She was almost as quick to get on her knees.



I stepped into her, making sure we were side-on to that camera so her Alex and Kelsey could watch as she tried.



“Have you done this before?” I asked and she shook her head slightly, then used her cheek to push open the flap over my zipper and worked her face upward. I could tell when she started using her tongue to find the zipper tab. “Apparently you’ve given this particular task some thought then?” She nodded. “You’re doing a very good job.”



I saw her smile as she worked my zipper down with it clenched in her front teeth. She didn’t even pause when we stopped on a floor and the doors opened, paused, then closed. Once my zipper was all the way down she just knelt there and smiled up at me.



“Pull my cock out.”



Since I go “commando” she didn’t need to figure out to get underwear out of the way.



She did manage to wedge her face far enough between the flaps of the zipper to get her lips on the side of my engorged cock. She applied a little suction and managed to pull it closer to the opening, the door opened, paused then closed, then she re-adjusted her position and pulled the rest of my stiff cock out through my fly.



She didn’t do anything more than pull it out, though. Just looked up at me (and over at the camera out the corner of her eye) and smiled.



“There’s a good girl. Would you like to suck my dick?”



I didn’t think her smile could get any broader, but it did, and the sparkle in her eyes intensified, if that was even possible.



“I will allow it.”



She eased forward on her knees and took the head of my cock into her mouth and began to slide her lips lightly over the head.



I had been watching the floor indicator and so I wasn’t surprised when we got to my floor. But she sure was.



“This is our floor, Carlie.”



I saw her shoulders slump and she sucked a little harder as she started to slide her mouth off my cock.



“Oh Carlie. What am I going to do with you. Always assuming you know what I want you to do. You know what happens when you ‘assume’, don’t you?”



She looked up at me as I held the “door open” button with my thumb, raised her eyebrows and made a very nice quizzical moan as she looked me in the eyes with my cock still in her mouth and her lips lodged firmly just beyond the ridge of the head and her tongue lodged just below it.



“Where I work we say that when one ‘assumes’ one makes an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’.”



She groaned, then giggled.



“You’ve never heard that one before?”



She slowly shook her head from side to side, making sure to slide her tongue around on the underside of my cockhead as she did.



“But in this case, that’s not the case. This time I’m going to have to tell you that when YOU ‘assume’ it means that ‘me’ is going to finish up the morning in ‘ur’ ‘ass’.” She moaned this time.



“So let’s get going, huh?”



She again started to slide her mouth off my cock and I growled at her. She looked at me quizzically again.



“Standing up would be a good start.”



Again she started to pull her mouth off my cock and I gave an exaggerated sigh.



I saw comprehension pass through her eyes and she managed to get to her feet without ever letting my cock out of her mouth.



The feel of her mouth moving over my head as she did was quite interesting.



The feel of her mouth as I started to walk forward out of the elevator and she paused to let more of it slide into her mouth to help maintain her balance was very much more interesting.



I walked out of the elevator with her mouth clamped around my cock. It didn’t appear to cause her any issues walking backward, even though she couldn’t use her arms to balance or brace herself as she backed out. But she did gag slightly once or twice.



Once out of the elevator, I slowly rotated my body to be able to back down the hall. I had thought about backing her down the hallway to my room, but decided that if she tripped and clamped involuntarily it would be a very bad idea.



So I backed down the hallway, leading her with my dick.



Since she couldn’t necessarily match my steps, my dick slid slightly in and out of her mouth and her tongue slid all around underneath it with each step. Nice!!



I backed slightly past the door to my room, then pivoted slightly and started to walk toward it.



When Carlie’s ass hit the door I kept moving and drove another little bit of my cock into her mouth. I nudged a little more and muttered, “Just need to get… a little closer… to the door… to be able… to get…the card…in the door.” With the last word of each phrase I nudged a little farther and a little harder. “Ah, there it goes. Say goodnight to Alex, and Kelsey, and yourself, Carlie.” She turned her face as far toward the camera as she could with my cock buried in her mouth and I could feel her lips and throat work as she managed a barely-recognizable, “Good night, Alex. Good night, Kelsey. Good night, me.” I opened the door, smiled and waved at the camera myself, and backed her in.



I let the door close quietly behind me then pivoted to get her to follow again.



I backed over to the chair that was positioned just inside the window by the light of the TV that I’d left on and stopped.



“Let go, Carlie,” I said.



“Hmm uhm.” She mumbled as she knelt and continued to work on my cock with her tongue.



“Let go, Carlie,” I growled.



“Hmm uhm.”



“Spit it out, Carlie!”



“Hmm uhm!,” this time with a slight shake of the head, making her tongue slide around under the head a little more.



I reached down between us and plugged her nose. She just kept sucking and licking on my cock.



I waited until I thought she should have had to take a breath, then a little longer in case she was a swimmer in addition to being a runner and was just about to try something else when I became aware of an occasional cool sensation on each side of my dick.



I laughed. “You little minx!! You’re breathing around the sides of my cock, aren’t you?”



She giggled around it.



“Seriously, Carlie, spit it out!” and I let go of her nose and swatted it. She finally relented and let my cock slip from her lips. She pouted and made a frustrated whining sound as it slid out.



“There’s a good girl. Sorry, but I had to do that to be able to set everything else up.” She made a face, but then sighed and knelt there.



I turned part way around and slowly pulled the inner curtains open one at a time, watching her reaction as I did. I swear her nipples got even more erect than they had been – and they’d been stiff the whole time I could see them. Maybe they’d just gotten bigger?



I slowly opened the outer, sheer curtains and she shifted slightly on her heels and spread her knees.



I kicked the ottoman so recently used by Kelsey out of the way then tilted the chair onto one leg, spun it around and pulled it back from the window just a little.



As I walked by Carlie she tried to catch my cock in her mouth.



I turned the TV a little more toward that side of the room, grabbed the remote from the table and a couple of condoms out of my suitcase and set them on the arm of the sofa next to the chair.



She tried again as I walked back past her.



I walked over to the bed, dragged a bunch of the pillows to the foot of the bed then tossed them one at a time onto the chair.



I walked over to where she was kneeling and tucked the fingers of my hands into her armpits from behind and lifted as I said, “Up ya go, little girl.”



I turned her around and led her over to the window. “What’d'ya say we get you undressed, hmmm?”



I nudged her feet as close to the short wall under the large window as I could, then reached down to begin unbuttoning her cuffs and pretended to have difficulty getting the buttons undone. I actually had them unbuttoned already and was just holding the cuffs in my hands.



“Sorry, sweetie, but I need to lift your arms a little to be able to get these undone.”



I chuckled as I heard her gasp.



“Aw, what’s the matter, babe? Window a little cold on the nipples? This shouldn’t take but a few more minutes.”



I lifted and tugged on her cuffs, dragging her nipples across the cold glass of the window.



I finally let go of her cuffs and let her arms drop to her sides.



“Is your ass still burning?”



“A little.”



“Gosh, that’s too bad,” I said as I grabbed her hips and spun her around. “Let’s see if this helps,” and I pushed her hips backward until her ass hit the glass. She gasped and flinched away, but then eased her red cheeks to the glass and shifted her position slightly to gradually get as much of it as possible soothed even slightly by the cold glass. As she shifted her body I unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off over her shoulders and down her arms, then gradually pulled her skirt down over her hips, down her legs and then out from under her feet.



I let go of her then, adjusted the pillows on the chair, took off own my shirt and my trousers, tossed them over to the sofa and sat on the chair, reclining back onto the pillows.



“I believe you’re in the wrong place, Carlie. Shouldn’t you be back on your knees with my prick in your hot little mouth?”



She silently shook her head, but there was enough light coming from the TV to see the glint in her eyes.



“Oh really? How about ‘get on your fucking knees and suck my fucking cock’? Does that wo…”



Well. Apparently it did because I broke off the question as her mouth slid down over the head of my cock once again as she locked her eyes on mine.



She didn’t take me all the way into her mouth.



She did, however, let some spit dribble from her mouth down the shaft then wrap her hand around it and use it like an extension of her mouth so I was feeling warm wet friction all the way up and down my prick.



All the while her tongue was dancing circles around and around my head, with occasional pauses to caress the underside of it.



Then she stopped.



Not “stopped” — stopped. Just stopped doing that and changed what she was doing.



Between the light coming in the window and that coming from the TV I could see the look in her eyes and could see a glint of humor? Mischievousness?



She took her mouth off my cock and used her right hand to hold it between her fingertips and the heel of her hand and began to lick it slowly from the base to the head. She did that a few times then got another mischievous look on her face.



She moved her right hand up to grab the head between her thumb, forefinger, middle finger and the base of her thumb. Then she reached up with her left hand and grabbed my scrotum the same way. I wondered what was going on.



I found out when she smiled, licked her lips, tilted my cock to the side, leaned in and took a little bite of it near the side of the base with her teeth.



Normally I’d have swatted her on the nose and growled, “No teeth,” but before I could say anything she released. She hadn’t bitten hard, just a nibble. I don’t think her teeth even came all the way together.

She released, moved her head just a little to the side and did the same thing. Then again.



Something about this seemed familiar, but I was a little distracted by the feel of her teeth moving slowly up my dick.



When she got to the head she moved back down to the base, moved her head around a little and pulled my cock away from my abs to repeat the nibbles.



She lifted off her heels to do it a third time, this time more toward the top of it.



About her sixth trip nibbling upward it occurred to me why this was familiar. She looked like she was chewing on an ear of corn!



By this time she’d worked her way around to the opposite side and was looking in my eyes. She must have seen the thought cross my mind because she pulled off at the top, took my head back into her mouth again, gave it a little suck as she pulled her mouth off and said, “All it needs is a little butter!” Then she licked her lips and went right back to the base.



This time she lifted herself off her knees to rest her sternum on my left thigh with one titty on either side of it. She leaned down and, making sure she could see me out the corner of her eyes, dragged those nibbles upward along the tube that runs up the underside of my dick.



That was almost as sensitive as the frenulum. As her teeth worked their way upwards it was almost like she was chasing something or driving it.



As she neared the underside of my cockhead again I saw her tilt her head slightly to be able to watch the head.



Neither of us was surprised when a fair amount of pre-cum bubbled out and began to run down the already-wet skin.



“Yummmm. Butter!” she smiled as she wrapped her mouth around the head then released it slightly and dragged her lips down the shaft to the base.



She nibbled her way back upward again and was rewarded with another small gush.



She pulled back and let go of my cock. But then she lightly grabbed a little skin on the top just below the head with her left hand and used two fingers of her right hand to drag that pre-cum down the underside.



She went back to licking up the underside of my cock. Long slow strokes from base to head again.



But then she stopped doing that and licked my ball-sack.



She licked the crease in the middle of it from about half way up to the base of my cock. Then she licked a little to the left of that trace, then a little to the right until the alternated licks ended on either side where my scrotum met my thighs.



She went back to the middle and licked like she had the first time. Then she ducked a little lower and started a little lower, then a little lower yet.



She put her right upper arm on my thigh and used her right hand to lift my balls and lowered her starting spot yet again.



The next pass of her tongue started at the same spot, but instead of traveling upward it moved to the side. She tilted her head the other way and licked that way as well.



She kept lowering her starting point and the path until she was licking across where my balls met “taint”.



As she continued licking lower and lower I tilted my head back because I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to last much longer if I continued to watch her eyes as she continued to lick.



I thought I saw some motion somewhere and focused my attention out the window.



I was trying to maintain my attention out there when I felt the first tentative swipe of the tip of her tongue across my asshole.



Then she had my full attention again. She licked across it. She licked around it.



She licked around the outside of it. Then she licked a little more toward the center. Then…



Then she put the tip of her tongue right in the center of my asshole and began to wiggle it as she began to push it inward.



I gritted my teeth to keep from moaning but she stopped, then went back to licking up my shaft.



She gradually lifted her ass off her knees again and took the head of my cock in her mouth, let some saliva run down it and started to suck on the tip while licking the underside of it and stroking the rest of it with her hand.



Just as I was coming I thought I saw movement again, but at that point I was less concerned about it than earlier.



She kept sucking even after my orgasm was over and I had to reach down, grab her head in both hands and pull her off since I was so sensitive.



I used my hands on her head to gently lift her off her knees as I first leaned forward then stood.



I pulled her in to kiss her and then allowed my hands to slide down her arms before pulling her in for a hug.



“Where did you ever learn to do that ‘corn-on-the-cob’ thing? I’ve never even heard of something like that before,” I asked between kisses.



“You liked it?”



“Wasn’t it obvious? Where?”



“Didn’t learn it anywhere. Came up with it myself. I was eating lunch and was more than a little horny. Obviously we were having corn-on-the-cob and I had just put some butter on it when my mom asked me to pass her something. I did, and when I looked back at it some of the butter was still running down the side of the ear and in my mind it looked like cum dripping down the side of a freshly-blown cock. I licked the butter off and put some more on. I had put more on it four times when my mom asked me what I was doing. I couldn’t very well tell her what I was thinking so I had to go ahead and eat it. And then eating it made me wonder what it would feel like to a guy to have his cock nibbled like that, so…”



“Damn! How long ago was this and has everyone liked it?”



“Ummmm. Yesterday. Before I came to work. And everybody I’ve done it to so far has liked it. You did, didn’t you?”



“Hell yes!! But, ‘yesterday’?”



“I said I was more than a little horny, didn’t I? After knowing what you had done to Kelsey and Alex and knowing I was going to take my shot, I couldn’t be anything BUT horny as fuck.”



“Nice!!”



While we had been talking I had been watching over her shoulder and finally caught the motion I thought I had seen earlier. I caught the movement of a curtain in a room on the other wing of the motel and a floor up.



I let go of Carlie and spun her around then pulled her back up against me.



As I began to nibble on her neck, and ears, and shoulders, my hands slid down to begin to massage her breasts.



I slipped the tips of both middle and ring fingers into the crease between her tits and her chest and slid them inward and she leaned farther back against me. When my fingers got to the middle I flexed them slightly and dragged them back, this time using my nails to lightly scratch her skin. She moaned and relaxed a little, letting her head fall backward to rest on my shoulder.



I cupped her tits in my hands and used my palms and fingers to very gently squeeze them a few times.



At some point the upper edge of my first knuckles made contact with her nipples and she hissed.



Taking that as a hint I planted the heels of both palms on the outside of her breasts, spread my fingers slightly and began to rotate my hands up and down around the heel. That caused my forefinger to contact the nipple, drag on it and then let its rubbery stiffness free to jiggle momentarily, then my middle finger did the same, followed by my ring finger and finally my little finger. Then the whole process was repeated in reverse.



As I did this she began to grind her ass against me and I heard a slight gasp every once in a while as her sensitive skin rubbed against me.



I continued to play with her left nipple that way as my right hand slowly slid down her belly until my fingertips had just reached the top of her slit.



She spread her legs slightly in anticipation but I pulled my hand back up. I had curled my fingertips under so it was the tips of my nails dragging up her belly again and I could feel her squirm a little to try to avoid the tickle.



I brought the hand all the way up until the back of my wrist just barely nudged the underside of her boob.



This time when I shot my hand down her stomach my fingertips plowed through the dripping gash between her inner and outer lips and my middle and ring fingers curled around and shot straight back up into her quim.



Her knees buckled just a little and I took a partial step back with my left foot and shifted my right thigh to the middle of her ass. As it slid across her cheek she hissed a little more and I pushed her forward just a bit.



Her response to that was to begin to very slowly grind her hips back and forth to grind her sensitive cheeks more firmly into my thigh.



As I continued I noticed the curtain from earlier begin to open all the way, first the inner then the outer sheer curtain as well.



I took a short break from nibbling on the side of Carlie’s neck and whispered in her ear, “What would you say if I told you we had an audience?”



She pulled her head forward off my shoulder and looked out across the parking lot to the nearby highway.



“That would be so cool! But the highway is too far away and the cars are going too fast to be able to see anything.” Her head fell back as I continued to rub her pussy with my fingers inside and the heel of my palm rubbing small circles on her clit.



“Not there. Next floor up and the fourth room from the end.” Her head came up and nodded slightly as she ticked off the rooms, two windows per room.



“It looks like the curtains are open, but I don’t think there’s anyone there. That would be cool, too, though. I kinda like the idea of being watched — as you figured out earlier.”



She had just about laid her head back on my shoulder as I continued to massage her nipples and pussy when the light in that room snapped on. Her head snapped back upright.



Whoever was in that room had taken some precautions. While the curtains were open and the light had come on, she — definitely a she — had wrapped a towel around the lampshade of the floor-lamp next to her.



Where her body was completely illuminated as she sat in the chair, her face was completely in shadow.



“Wave at her, Carlie! Welcome her to watch.”



She did, but got no response from the other woman and I quickly figured out why. Leaving Carlie in place, I stepped away from her to the bathroom and retrieved a towel of our own. I wrapped it around the floor lamp and turned it on, making sure to position it so our bodies would be illuminated and our faces hidden as well.



I reclined back on the pillows and pulled Carlie back to me. As I pulled her back she spread her legs on either side of mine.



I reached back with my left hand and grabbed a condom, tore it open, pulled it out and rolled it down my cock.



I lifted her up and pulled her back onto me, laying her back on my chest.



“Are you ready to be the main event now?” I growled in her ear. “If you are, wave to her now that she can see us.”



She waved and the naked woman waved back then dropped her hand to her crotch.



“Are you ready to have my stiff cock in your tight little pussy now?”



“Hell yes!!”



“What do you want, Carlie?”



“I want to watch that woman over there finger-fuck herself to orgasm while she watches you fuck me.”



“Then guide me in baby.”



She lifted herself slightly then reached down between her legs, grabbed my cock, positioned it and then slowly started to slide herself down onto it.



Once she bottomed out she began to rock her hips and slide up and down slightly to begin milking my cock. I reached around with my left hand and started to play with her nipple while I worked my right hand down her tummy again to begin playing with her clit.



We set a rhythm then that we maintained for a few minutes, then Carlie asked, “Can you see her hand on her tit?”



“Yeah.”



“Why don’t you start working both of my nipples the same way she’s working hers? I’ll take care of my clit.”



So I began to pinch and pull at her hard little nipples with both hands while I could feel her body shaking as her right arm moved in time with the woman’s arm.



It wasn’t a long time later when she said, “Uh-oh. I just ‘assumed’ something.”



“And that was?”



“It doesn’t matter, does it? I thought you said earlier that if I assumed you were going to fuck my tight little asshole, or something like that?”



“Well now that you mention it… Why don’t you do something about that?”



She lifted slightly and made a production out of very slowly pulling herself off of my cock and moving it slightly. She made an equal production out of slowly sliding back down on it as the head gradually penetrated her inner sphincter.



The woman in the other room took her hand off her tit long enough to give us a thumbs-up then it went back to pinching her nipples and fingering her clit.



Carlie started to slide up her ass up and down on my cock as my hands went back to work on her nipples and her hand went back to work on her own clit.



I continued to take gentle bites of Carlie’s shoulder as we both watched the mystery woman and Carlie’s thrusts became faster.



The woman now had both hands buried in the shadow of her crotch and her chest was pulling up off the pillows on her chair — when her hips weren’t bucking off the seat.



“Fuck me? Fuck my tight little asshole?”



“Um. I’m pretty sure I am, little girl.”



“Sorry, but it feels like I’m fucking myself with your cock. Fuck ME!”



“Oh, that’s the LAST time you get to think you’re able to be in charge, bitch!” She moaned and shivered when I called her a bitch.



“You fucking play with your nipples now. I’ve got better things to be doing with my hands.”



I grabbed her by the hips and began to lift her up my cock then slam her back down. She lifted her legs so her heels were on the front edge of the seat, which only spread her knees more.



“Get the fuck down bitch! Slam your tight little asshole on my big fucking cock. Take it bitch! Take the whole fucking thing.”



Now I was using just my left hand to slam her hips onto me and it was my right fingertips that were flying across her clit.



Carlie had let go of her left nipple and was bracing her torso up off me with her left hand on the back of the chair, but her right hand was pulling and tugging on her nipple.



“You like it, bitch? You like having a hard fucking cock buried up your little ass? You like having your freshly spanked ass slammed my thighs? Does it hurt so good?”



“Yes!! I love it! I love being fucked in the ass with a big meat shaft while being watched by a complete stranger. Fuck my little ass harder. Please?”



She sat up then, dropping her feet back to the floor, and I went back to using my hands on her hips to lift her then slam her down on my cock. Now I could feel her right hand working her clit and could see her left elbow moving as she was working her nipples.



There was just enough darkness outside that I could see a little reflection in the glass.



What a trip. I could see her body rising and falling on my cock from behind, I could see the same thing in the reflection. I could see her left hand digging her nails into her boob when she wasn’t trying to tear her nipple off with them and I could see the fingers of her right hand flashing over her clit. But with a little shift of the eyes I could see a complete stranger working her own nipples and clit while watching us.



Then I saw that Carlie’s entire attention was focused on the woman and I placed mine there as well.



Somehow we both managed to sync with the woman and gauged her level of arousal.



We saw her body start to tense, then her own heels flew up to the edge of her seat, her hips came up off the chair and she squirted all over the window.



Carlie’s body had been quivering in my grasp but now I had a hell of a time holding onto her. And holding onto her was all was doing at this point as she lifted herself up them rammed herself back down on my cock.



“Take me!! Take my fucking ass! Make me yours, you magnificent fucking animal! Fuck my tight little asshole with that huge fucking meat stick!”



As she ground that last out through her gritted teeth, Carlie began to cum. She made another raise and drop or two, then dropped all the way onto my cock and ground her hips and ass into my thighs as her knees spasmed open and closed.



The clenching of her pussy and ass was enough to drag me over the edge and we both came together.



We laid there for a few minutes afterward. We weren’t “basking in the afterglow”. We were incapable of moving because we were exhausted.



“Shit! That was awesome!” Carlie said. “I run cross-country track at college and I don’t think I’ve ever been this worn out even after I’ve won a hard race.”



She was lying back on my chest again and turned her head to kiss me. “Kelsey and Alex were right. You DO know how to treat a lady.”



“Well, my lady, are you ready to get cleaned up? Because my cock is slipping out of your delightful little ass and as much as I hate to say this, I do still have to go to work this morning.”



She giggled as she stood, then turned to grab my hands and help me stand up.



I looked over at the other window and watched as the woman stood up herself. As she turned around I caught the barest glimpse of a tattoo on the back of one shoulder, but then she disappeared into the darkness. When I looked again the light was off.



We ducked into the shower and had a nice little time washing each other. Neither of us had any energy left for even trying for another orgasm.



By the time we got out and got dressed there was enough light outside that I could tell the curtains on the other room were open, but I couldn’t see anyone inside.



I opened the door and let Carlie out ahead of me, made sure the door was closed and we started walking toward the stairs.



She hadn’t made it three or four steps when she hissed and stopped. “You fucker!”



I laughed. “What?”



“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”



I put on my fake-innocent look and asked, “What are you talking about, Carlie? What do you think I did?”



“You know full well, you old bastard. All those swats on the sides and backs of my thighs? It’s bad enough that I’m going to have a hell of a time sitting down to drive home, but every time I take a step this skirt drags across my thighs and it hurts so fucking gooood!”



“Wait till we get to the stairs, little girl.”



By the time we got to the first floor she was shaking and moaning. We stopped just inside the door and she held her arms out to give me a hug.



I wrapped my left arm around her waist and hugged her slightly from the side as she wrapped her arms around my upper arms and chest.



She tilted her head to the side and just as our lips made contact my right hand snaked up under her skirt and the backs of two knuckles dragged over her clit.



She squealed and came up on her toes.



No, let me rephrase that. She came. Up on her toes.



I grabbed her ass cheek with my left hand and squeezed a bit as she muttered and moaned and groaned into my mouth with her hips hunching and bucking up against my hand.



When she finally settled down and could stand on her own again she stepped back and swatted lightly at my shoulder.



“Motherfucker! You don’t check out for another week, right?”



“C’mon, Carlie. You know I don’t.”



“Have you ever heard of making a woman ‘airtight’?”



I admitted I had.



“Have you ever heard of making a man airtight?”



I thought for a few seconds and admitted I hadn’t.



“Good. I have to talk to Alex and Kelsey, but I have an idea or three I’d like to try out. See you soon!” and she turned and walked out the door.



I walked down to the breakfast area and set my stuff down.



“Shit, man. The longer we’re here the longer it takes you to get to breakfast. You must be really getting old,” one of the guys said.



“Ah, that old bastard probably just got up early and had himself a hell of a workout,” my female co-worker interjected.



“Something like that.”



I walked over to get breakfast and when I walked around the serving island my female co-worker was standing waiting for the line at the juice area to go down.

A/N: This chapter was betaed by Nomani and Spring. As always, if you have an idea for a fic, send me an e-mail so we can discuss it.







The only thing Kory hated about coming home to the Clocktower was that she had to fly through a mile of subway to get to it. A scantily-clad superhero couldn’t be seen flying into Oracle’s secret headquarters, after all.



But after a few minutes of flying without sunlight, she came home, which was warmer by far. She flew up through the elevator shaft, and shot right onto Barbara’s floor.



Kory loved Dick with a fervor that was only equaled by her relationship with Donna, but it was possible that what she loved best about being married to Dick was his other wives. Dinah was so glamorous and lighthearted – like her – and they got along like sisters. While Barbara was smart and calculating, a bit like Donna and a bit like Dick had once been: the perfect project for Kory to work on and cheer up and make love to.



She walked through their shared loft. Though each of them had their own little quadrants in the vast floor that held their residences, the influences of one swept through all the others. Donna’s photography was particularly popular, as were her gifts of Amazonian artifacts, while the smell of Dinah’s cooking and taste in take-out cuisine could be detected just about everywhere. As for Kory herself, she had enjoyed teaching the others how to care for the Tamaranian plants that now tagged virtually every room on the floor. With proper feeding, they bore very succulent fruit.



Kory went to the corner of the library—of course, in Barbara’s building, the first room through the elevator doors was a library—and found her es’crul plant thriving in spite of Barbara’s earlier warnings about how she didn’t have time to care for a plant. Picking an edible petal from one of its flowers, she savored the taste of home.



Then she heard Dinah’s voice from behind her. “Are those safe for humans to eat?”



Kory swirled with a smile, perhaps using just a bit of her flight ability to give her hair-toss an extra kick. “Very much so—just like everything on Tamaran.”



Dinah smiled back at her, smoothing an errant lock of her own behind her ear. “Good. I’ve already had, like, twenty.”



Kory very pointedly widened her smile as she looked Dinah over. A certain part of her that went with her green eyes judged that Dinah wasn’t quite as curvy as her—but it was a near thing. And more importantly, Dinah unknowingly held to a high Tamaranian philosophy: if you’re going to defeat someone in battle, you should look good doing it.



Dinah looked very good doing anything.



“And do you still have an—appetite?”



Dinah licked her lips, her own eyes tracking Kory’s hand as it trailed down the cool metal of the Tamaranian’s armor. What little there was of it, anyway. Tamaranians had very few vital organs to protect…



“Now that you mention it… I’ve been wanting to ride you all day.”



“What’s stopping you, wife-fellow?”



***



“Babs, come ride Kory with me! It’s amazing!”



The bespectacled redhead didn’t look up from her computer, but she did look at the faint reflection on the monitor. Dinah was behind her, straddling Kory as the Tamaranian floated through the air while doing a joking breaststroke.



“Busy,” Barbara replied. Her terseness, as usual, signaled that this was not one of those times where she wanted Dinah to ‘persuade’ her to give up the keyboard.



Dinah pulled on Kory’s hair, reining her to a stop. “C’mon, Babs…”



You come on! Ivy just came up with her new plan to kill Bruce.”



Unprompted, Kory flew to stand beside Barbara, Dinah awkwardly balancing atop Kory’s six feet and four inches. “Will he be alright? What is it?”



Barbara could’ve blushed at how simultaneously scared and determined Kory sounded. Not an ounce of cynicism in her. She would love and defend anyone, especially the adopted father of her beloved Dick Grayson.



“Nothing too bad.” Barbara called up the relevant surveillance footage as Dinah pushed through Kory’s mane of reddish-gold hair to see it. “She’s been up all night breeding a new species of plant. Near as I can place it, it’s based on something that grows in Borneo.”



She tapped on the monitor with her index finger, despite her hatred of smudges. If she couldn’t show off a little for her alien sister-wife, what was the point?



“The leaves are edible, and they’re the best thing to happen to penises since the blue pill. Just chew one and it doesn’t matter if you’ve gone ten rounds with Huntress, you’re instantly back—up.”



Dinah kept hanging off Kory’s strong back like she was a baby in a papoose. “We could use some of that around her. Much simpler than getting another husband.”



“Yeah, unfortunately it has a hell of a kick. An overdose—and by that I mean about three—causes fatal heart failure. I’ve sent a sample to Dr. Holland in Louisiana.”



“Swamp Thing,” Dinah whispered to Kory.



“Ooh, I like him.”



He,” Barbara stressed, calling their attention back to her. She may not have wanted to give a briefing, but as long as she was, they would listen to her. “Is working on a safe version to swap out with Ivy’s.”



“Not to mention make a fortune,” Dinah added.



Kory nodded, which Dinah avoided by ducking her head. “Ivy would do far more good if she used her abilities for niceness instead of evil. Why invent such a thing only to use as a murder weapon? Why not patent it, sell it for profit, and use the proceeds to simply buy the woodlands she wants preserved?”



“Well, she’s a crazy person,” Barbara explained. “But we’re working on that.”



“Working hard,” Dinah giggled.



Suddenly, Bruce’s voice came over Barbara’s speakers. “Yes, Ms. Lance. Very hard.”



Barbara gestured to her headset. “Ladies, this is why you shouldn’t interrupt me when I’m working. Not even to ride Kory.”



“That wasn’t what it sounded like!” Dinah said hurriedly.



“Well, let’s not be hasty,” Kory countered.



Bruce’s voice steamrolled over them, cool and efficient. “Ivy’s antisocial behavior stems from the loss of control she felt when Dr. Woodrue experimented on her, leading to a pathological rejection of society in favor of identifying with nature. This went along with her developing a superiority complex; not helping was the fact that she truly is incredibly powerful. Egotism, megalomania, narcissism—all a defense mechanism. Think out her plan: she’ll offer herself to me, trusting I’ll find her so desirable that I’ll accept a strange drug from a known poisoner just so I can copulate with her repeatedly. To break through her defenses, I’ll have to allow her some measure of power over me—then demonstrate to her that the loss of power isn’t necessarily a negative experience.”



“And how will you do that?” Barbara asked.



He paused. “That’s a private matter, Oracle. Speaking of which, you didn’t happen to watch me during my engagement with Quinzel, did you?”



“Absolutely not, Christian Grey. Good luck with the green queen.”



“Luck isn’t a factor. Going offline. And Barbara—spend some time with your wives. Dick’s showing signs of fatigue on patrol.”



The line went dead.



Barbara straightened her glasses guiltily. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. And I saw Dick first anyway, so…”



Kory was too busy wiping the sweat from her brow to notice Barbara’s fluster. “Was it just me, or was that a little hot?”



***



First thing in the morning, Bruce showed up at Harley and Ivy’s room with breakfast. Harley, of course, took it in bed, drowning her pancakes in syrup. Ivy wasn’t hungry, except for the possibility of getting Bruce alone.



Naturally, he offered it like he was obeying her pheromones.



“Pamela, if you’re not busy, would you mind accompanying me to the greenhouse? There’s something I’d like to show you.”



“There’s something I’d like to show you as well,” Pamela grinned, picking up her new rosebush in its cute little pot. The leaves were coming in quite nicely. “You first, husband dear.”



Gesturing her after him, they left Harley to lick the syrup off her nose by herself.



As she walked behind Bruce, Pamela desperately wished that she had a knife to put between his shoulder blades. She kept picturing him putting his meaty animal hands on Harley. And to think, he’d actually tricked the little fool into thinking she’d enjoyed it.



Well, they’d see how he enjoyed her. A real woman. A goddess.



“As I said, I think you could do wonderful things at Wayne Enterprises.” Bruce looked back at her as he prattled on, sparing barely a glance for the little potted plant she bore before her. “There’s one particular project that I think would be right up your alley. Tell me what you think.”



He pushed open the double doors. And like they’d been teleported, they were outside—the austerity and gloom of the manor giving way to a bright, warm greenhouse.



Ivy suppressed a shudder as she felt sunlight’s familiar caress on her green skin. Her wedding dress long discarded, she’d quickly resumed wearing her leafy costume. And people thought it was just what she wore. It was armor, as much as a Celt’s war paint or a soldier’s camouflage. But because it showed some skin, everyone thought it just meant she wanted to fuck them.



As usual, that was to her advantage. “Mmmm,” she moaned erotically, brushing the leaves down the slope of her cleavage, showing her breasts almost to her moss-green nipples. “The sun feels so nice in here. Tell me, Brucie, do you tan?”



“Not as much as I should,” Bruce confessed with a chuckle. “But please, we can sun ourselves later. I really have to show you this.”



“Mmmmm,” Ivy repeated herself, withdrawing some foliage from the back of her costume until she was practically wearing a thong. “I’d love to see anything you have to show me.”



There was another reason she wasn’t wrenching a knife out of Bruce’s body at the moment, aside from the difficulties that that would give even the most pheromone-happy inheritance judge. Bruce cut a sweet figure in that cerise-colored polo shirt and white slacks. She would enjoy using him up, having the sum total of his life and death inside her. There was a beautiful naturalism to the thought. She’d reclaim his cruelty and arrogance as waste water was reclaimed from the soil.



Bruce played at obliviousness, walking her toward one of the many attractions in the miniature forest of the greenhouse. This one looked like a rubber tree, but it didn’t feel the same to Ivy through the Green. It was oily somehow. Malnourished.



She resisted the urge to start fixing it. Later. When Wayne was dead, she’d turn his entire mansion into a jungle. A proper garden.



“I know how sensitive you are about the logging industry,” Bruce said, patting the trunk of the strange tree for a handhold like he was thinking of climbing it. “But it’s unrealistic to expect the whole world to just give up lumber to please you. So I thought, what if we can have both? Lumber, and healthy, thriving trees?”



“Co-existence?” Ivy sneered, and it took real strength of will to keep from laughing bitterly. The only way metal coexisted with the tree was when the tree simply grew around it, as she had done with Harley.



“Exactly. I thought of how trees shed leaves every year, with no harm to the plant, and how sheep are shorn without hurting them at all. Why can’t lumber be the same—ah!” He got his grip and pulled at the trunk. To Ivy’s utter surprise, a thick slab of wood came off the trunk, almost to the core. “Way.”



Ivy stepped forward, fingers clawing to send poison straight into Wayne’s bloodstream.



But through the Green she sensed something—the tree wasn’t sending out any distress. It wasn’t hurt. No more so than it would be with a piece of bark scraped off, or a twig snapped away. Already, she could feel the lost wood growing back, wanting to grow back.



“It’s not perfect,” Bruce said, setting the lumber aside. “It takes far too long for the wood to grow back and it leaves the tree weak. That’s fine in controlled conditions like the greenhouse, but in nature, it’d have to be much more resilient. Any input you could give us would be vastly appreciated.”



Ivy licked her apple-red lips to a sheen. Yes. Yes, this was perfect. Enough to earn him her beautiful murder. “It’s wonderful, Bruce. I think this must be your legacy. Your lasting gift to the world.”



“The first of many!” Bruce said, grinning like a clod. “Let’s give them to the world together.”



“Yes, Bruce. But first, something for us. Just for us.” Ivy set the rosebush down in a tree’s crotch. “I’m tired of being alone. I want you to have me, Bruce. And with this, you can have me so many times… so many ways.”



“Oh?”



“After you’ve come inside me, just eat one tiny leaf and you can do it all over again. As many times as you like.” Her hands freed, Ivy ran them over Bruce’s muscular chest. “As many times as I like.”



“That’s thoughtful of you,” Bruce said, taking her hands in his and squeezing them. “But I’m sure I won’t need any… herbal aids. Not with a woman as beautiful as you.”



Pamela’s eyes darkened to a shade of viridian she let few men see—and less survive. “We’ll see.”



“Tell you what. After I come, if you want to keep going, I’ll try it. But I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by my staying power. I’m no minute man!”



No, you’re a dead man. Ivy moved in close like a predator lunging, pursing her hands on his chest as she brought her lips up to his—and then shoved him back instead.



Bruce lost his balance, tumbling down among the thick buttress roots of an arjun tree.



Ivy was down atop him in an instant, losing the leaves from her body so that they fell away with her speed. She straddled him, gripping his wrists tightly and raising them over his head, pressed against the tree trunk.



Vines sprang from the wood and securely bound his hands, while more emerged from the roots to bind his ankles. She kissed him hard, running her hands over the lines of his face and then his broad torso, in ownership. He groaned, perhaps unwillingly, and shifted his hips under her. She abandoned his mouth, left him gasping, to suck on his throat.



And her ivy feelers crept up his pant legs to shred his trousers. Her slender fingers bunched in his shirt and ripped it open. Even as she gave in to his desire for her, she wanted him to know who the powerful one was.



Then, Ivy abruptly stopped, leaving an angry red hickey like a vampire’s bite on Bruce’s throat. So… mammalian.



She reared up atop Bruce, letting him take in her naked body. Before she had his life, she would have his awe.



And she had it. Her mint-green body was perfect, giving the appearance of being as carefully cultivated as a Japanese bonsai tree. Her hips wide and lush, her breasts seeming weightless despite their bountiful size, her legs endless. All leading inexorably to the perfect flower that was her face—red lips and jade eyes and blood-red hair burnished by some of the brown leaves that had fallen from her costume. A few more clung to her damp body, giving her a savage look. Nature red in tooth and claw.



The feeler that had started at Bruce’s feet reached his groin, its frond wrapping itself around the eye of his zipper and pulling it down. Bruce felt the slightly disconcerting sensation of Ivy’s plants maneuvering his manhood out of his underwear, followed by the somewhat tangy feel of the last of his clothes being reclaimed by nature.



Soon, he was laid bare before Ivy. A sacrifice offered up to a jungle goddess.



Ivy stared down at his cock, which had grown long and hard in anticipation—not that it had far to go. She raised a considering eyebrow, wondering if she’d even be able to take it.



Then she scoffed. It wasn’t that big. It’d just been a while since she’d last entertained a man, that was all. Why bother when she could get whatever she wanted from one with a few pheromones?



But no. She’d give Wayne the full treatment. Especially the dawning horror of realizing that his own pleasure had killed him.



She disdainfully petted the throbbing beast between them, like it was one of those forest creatures that knew its place. Then she lifted herself up, and eased herself down.



Even the notorious Bruce Wayne hissed through his teeth, his hands tightening on a branch overhead, as she took him inside her. Ivy felt almost as much pleasure at that as she did at the feeling of being parted, entered—surrendered to. Then, with a degree of worry, she realized he just kept going. There was more of him. Much more.



Ivy hadn’t been a virgin in a long time, although the only penetration she’d received lately had been from Harley… and those toys were quite undersized to offend disrespecting ‘Mistah J’. But it felt like she’d never had anyone so big inside her. He couldn’t really be as thick and full as he seemed, could he?



Unless he was still growing…



“You’re so beautiful, Ivy,” Bruce groaned as she came to rest with what seemed like—what had to be—all of him pulsing inside her. “How can a woman be so beautiful?”



She felt an echo of a blush at his compliment; most men lost all their charm as soon as they were inside her. But no, it was just flattery. She wouldn’t give him anything for being better at predatory maleness than his predecessors. In fact, she slapped him across the face.



“Not a woman. A goddess.”



And he smiled at her, one side of his face blooming red. “Yes, Ivy. Of course. How could I forget?” He bent his head in obeisance to kiss the skin over her heart almost chastely.



His show of respect merely angered her. She disliked the taste of being worshipped by him. Of course he was awestruck by her. How could anyone not be? But all she needed from him was his seed.



“Come for me,” she ordered him, her hips churning already, massaging his cock inside her, burying him within her.



And he was stiff, firm, unyielding. Nothing like the cold dead toys that had entered her before. He was warm and alive, his member full of pounding blood. It appealed to the animal in her; hitting just the right spots as she held it inside her.



She was having trouble denying how good it felt, having a man bow before her and offer up the homage she was due. Ferociously, she bit back the pleasure. This was about murder. Nothing else.



Arching her back, she drew him even tighter within her. And he did grit his teeth at that. She delighted in her mastery over him.



Then, Ivy belatedly realized that she was cooing. It really did feel good—much better than Harley’s overenthusiastic penetrations. Would it be so bad to enjoy this just a little bit? Already the sparks she burst with every sweep of her hips traveled her receptive body…



It wasn’t as if it was something he was doing to her. She was doing it to him! And he was very doable…



Ivy soon found herself enjoying it very much. His subjugation. Her conquest. Even the way he bucked his hips in perfect counterpoint to her receiving gulps was all in servitude to her.



She almost regretted the fact that she had to kill him, because now and forever, he was hers. Her servant and her acolyte and her whore. Even his last thoughts would be of her.



He gave all of himself to her when even Harley held back out of loyalty to her clown, and she took all of him. Everything he could—



Ivy’s tireless hips sang as she pushed them forward, hard, like she meant to swallow Bruce’s entire body within her own. Her flesh burned and burst, a cleansing forest fire that cleared what felt like acres of deadwood from her.



But at her center he remained cold steel… at least in comparison to her inferno.



It took her a few gasping breaths to realize what had happened. She’d come. He was still rock hard inside her.

She’d come. And he hadn’t.



In all her previous male encounters, Ivy had never come first. No matter how romantically her paramour presented himself, he always wound up rutting with her like an animal and lasting as long as a fruit fly. But Bruce was still there. A useful, well-cared-for, reliable… tool.



The man himself bent his head as reverently as a priest in prayer, gently kissing some of the dew from between her breasts. She knew from experience that it was sweet as syrup, without the tartness present in the sap between her legs. “I hope you enjoyed that, Ivy. Enough to repeat it, even.”



Ivy sensed a challenge in the smirk that he tried not-hard-enough to hide. A faithful tool, but one that didn’t quite know its place. She would teach it to him as he died, and on his grave she’d plant a mighty oak to commemorate his one real contribution to nature.



***



Once Harley had finished her breakfast, she thought of pushing her plate under the bed. That’d been her usual housekeeping method back when she and Ivy had stayed over at Eddie’s hideout. She would let the dishes pile up until Ivy yelled at her, or got one of her pheromone buddies to clean them up.



Now, though… it’d probably make Bruce pretty happy if he saw that she cleaned up after herself.



Wearing nothing but her Tweety Bird boxers and the top half of a standard-issue Arkham jumpsuit (she’d kept it because it was so comfy), Harley went over to the nearest kitchen, where she put her plate by the sink. Then she went to the pantry.



As she should’ve known, there was only boring, healthy food there… but there was also a grocery list hanging out in the open. She quickly grabbed a pencil and added every cereal she’d seen during the ad breaks of her Saturday morning cartoon.



Then she realized she could make Bruce even happier.



Rinsing her plate and silverware off in the sink, she scrubbed them clean and set them in the dishwasher, and then returned to the bedroom for Ivy’s. As Ivy hadn’t eaten her pancakes, Harley gobbled them down for her. Pam was an environmentalist, right? She would’ve hated waste.



Soon, Ivy’s plate and silverware had joined Harley’s in the dishwasher. Harley thought about how pleased Bruce would be with her when he saw how she’d kept his pad nice and tidy. In fact, she’d like to see Ivy make him that happy!



***



Ivy was determined not to give Bruce that power over her again. She would bring him to a quick, hard orgasm, feed him the leaf, and only then allow herself—allow him—to enter her.



She stood up (shuddering as her freshly-fucked pussy met the greenhouse’s damp air), and reseated herself in Bruce’s lap, crossing her ankles behind his back and nestling her sex against his still-erect manhood.



Like a potter at a wheel, she caught the snake in her hands. She felt it jump between her palms as she gave Bruce what amounted to a lapdance—grinding herself into his body until she was as close as moss to a tree, rubbing her hard nipples against his chest, even nuzzling the sides of his neck with her soft lips.



Finally, she heard the softest whisper of his breath quickening.



This was it.



Riding his thighs, she manipulated his cock over the outside of her pussy, its head poring over her labia and up to her inflamed clit. It was getting to him. She knew it. She could see the beads of sweat on his forehead as she sweetly caressed his cock with her sex, an electricity seeming to crackle between them—softly, gently building, a low-level hum that grew and grew.



“You’re going to come for me,” she announced, squeezing his powerful cock and feeling it almost resist her. She loved its heated, concentrated stiffness, but only because she took it as a sign of her power over him.



“After you,” he said blithely.



She pressed him firmly against her, parting her lips on his shaft, riding up and down over every little vein. At the tip, there was the slippery feel of his precum. She enthusiastically rubbed it between her palms like she was moisturizing. Rubbed them both, masturbating herself as she jerked him off, trapping his cock between their bodies as she rubbed them together, moaning obscenely as she fingered herself instead of letting him penetrate her. Hearing the strain of his bonds as he tested their strength.



He was weakening. A little more, a little more…



She was inches from his face, her lips parted, her eyes locked with his when he kissed her for the first time. His tongue in her mouth like that was all the penetration he needed, an incredible passion there, a power that she couldn’t contain, that she could only ride and shape and accept into herself—All too soon she felt her embers flaring into a roaring flame once more.



Ivy would’ve thought that her last orgasm would’ve left only ashes, nothing more to burn, but Bruce poured gasoline all over her. Her back went rigid and her groin bloomed with heat and when she finally went slack, it was only to collapse atop him.



His body was soft, oiled with sweat, a bed she could coil up on and indulge her sated weariness—all but his manhood, nudging insistently against the flesh of her thighs.



Bruce smiled sweetly. “Had enough?”



“How can you ask me that?” Ivy demanded, her impatience shining through. “You haven’t even come yet!”



“I can always do that with Harley.”



Face twisted into a snarl, Ivy grabbed him by the base of his cock and impaled herself on him.



***



After a round of Saint’s Row The Third, Harley decided to take an afternoon nap. When she woke up, she decided to go on Amazon and order some toys. If she didn’t spruce the place up, it could get awfully dull in Wayne Manor.



***



Now Ivy rode Bruce so hard that every swing of her hips rammed his back into the tree trunk. Leaves were falling down around them in pointed contrast to the violence of the coupling they surrounded. The tree itself groaned with the stress it was enduring. Ivy didn’t care. She had to conquer Bruce. He had to be hers, damn it!



She relented only to tease him, pleased with the fevered gasps her respite brought as her hips continued to roll on his pelvis. Then she raked her nails through his chest hair as she surged against him again, so hard that her breasts slapped against his face, going too fast for even their exquisite softness to be painless. She could tell his resistance couldn’t last.



Ivy’s eyes drifted close and her world became silence, just the staccato chorus of her jaw working its little exercises to try to contain the pleasure. It didn’t work. She let out a squeal that had her opening her eyes to see if Bruce had heard her. And he had. His face was grinning and filled with pleasure. She realized her own cheeks had pulled into a smile.



And so, either out of vexation with him or fear of her own growing response, she stopped dead. Every delicious movement of her body around his cock stilled. She waited for him to beg.



He didn’t, just sat there, evenly meeting her gaze, seeming to luxuriate in the tightness of her hot cunt without ever caring if she’d continue. So she rocked just a little, an idle motion designed to tease and tantalize. It certainly did for her, lightning shooting through her blood.



Bruce exhaled softly, but made no other reaction, content to enjoy her ministrations.



Her hands ran soothingly through the soft hair of his chest, trailing over the marks her fingernails had made. His nipples were as erect as her own, and she played them between her fingers. His head drifted back, a dreamy smile on his face as he rested against the tree—like she was giving him a massage.



It was maddening, insulting, unfair. She had power over him, but only what he gave her. Aside from that, he was immune to all her tricks, her poses, her ploys. He was her prisoner beneath her, but he’d chosen to be.



And it turned her on. That frightened her more than anything.



She could leave right now. She almost did, easing herself off his turgid erection, feeling her pussy tingle as it was abandoned. Every perfect inch of him left her one at a time. And the fire in her belly that had done nothing but spread and spread began to die.



“Nnnnnh!” Ivy cried, throwing herself back down onto his cock, her head thrusting back in the ecstasy of sudden fulfillment, her crimson hair falling back to tickle at the small of her back. It was impossible to resist. Her hips darted up and slammed down, taking even more of his relentless cock inside herself.



“Yes! Yes! Yes!”



“Ivy,” Bruce moaned out, the first chink in his armor, an admission of weakness that threw fuel on her fire.



Losing all her composure, Ivy’s mouth dropped open and her eyes bugged out in the O-face that Harley had so much fun teasing her about. Her orgasm fired inside her, but wasn’t enough. In rapid succession, Ivy bounced herself atop Bruce’s cock another half-dozen times, then dropped her hand between her thighs and frantically flicked her clit until a second explosion took her. This time, she felt a liquid rush and heard a gushing splatter as her sap squirted from her, all the way to Bruce’s chest.



Yessssssss,” Ivy rasped, sweat dripping from her heaving breasts as she lost her balance, having to throw an arm back to support herself as she floated down from her climactic high.



Bruce’s cock was angrily hard inside her, pinning her in place.



“Satisfied?” he asked, a tranquil smile greeting her when her eyes finally opened.



Ivy’s voice emerged from her afterglow sickly sweet. “Not until you are, husband.” She assumed her sarcasm was lost on him.



***



Awake from her nap, Harley went to some of her favorite forums and whittled away the afternoon responding to those who criticized her by posting aggressive .gifs. Stupid Bronies had no idea what My Little Pony was all about.



It was only when she sighted one of those pop-up ads asking her to take a survey about Bruce Wayne’s double wedding that she thought of where Bruce and Ivy had gotten to. Probably doing something boring, like going over their pre-nuptial agreement.



***



In the greenhouse, the quiet was almost tranquil. The screaming orgasm and frenzied mating of the last bout had been forgotten. Ivy had decided that this time, she would allow herself one gentle orgasm from Bruce Wayne before she really got down to the business of killing him. And so her well-rounded ass moved in gentle, rhythmic circles, around and around in a perfect O, letting her feel all of Bruce inside her. First here. Then there. Everywhere.



The meditative sounds of the greenhouse’s few machines and those of the animals that had been permitted inside melded with the liquid sound of Bruce’s cock within Ivy’s dripping womanhood, with the fleshy rasp of their thighs rubbing together, with the low purr of Ivy’s breathing as she absorbed the pleasure Bruce gave her like a plant would take in water.



“Oh yes,” she muttered in a loving litany. “Oh, that’s it. That’s it. Just like that. Just like that…”



Bruce’s chest worked like a bellows, his strong breath gusting out of his body and rumbling back in. With Ivy twined around his torso, staying where she’d collapsed the last time, each breath shifted her body around, lazily moving her lips to new place to kiss and suck. She found his mouth on one pitched intake of air, cutting off that steady breath with her soft, wide lips, her hands playing at his neck and hair.



His passion was—pleasing for her to contemplate. The way he seemed hungry not just for a beautiful body, but for her… reminded Ivy of Harley, in a distant way.



Soon, his kisses left even her breathless. Breaking free and clutching the back of his neck, she forced him into his cleavage, where he kissed each nipple as they were offered up, caressing her breasts with his mouth. When she centered him on one, he sucked on it so hard he might’ve been trying to devour her. Even Harley didn’t usually lavish such attention on her breasts, not once motorboating them ceased to amused her.



It felt so good that she had to push him back, running her hands from his thick arms to his flat stomach—now noticing the muscle, the occasional scar, all the little pleasures of his body. And he kept looking at her, bold and unafraid, but respectful. Loving, even. “I’ve never been with a woman like you before. You’re so gorgeous… and you’re so amazing. It’s like a dream. I’m fucking the most beautiful woman in the world. I’m fucking Pamela Isley…”



She kissed him and his body came alive, jumping to plunge his cock deep into her, driving her up like he meant to crash her into the ceiling. He was only allowed the one kiss, then she returned him to her breasts, where the rough stubble of his cheeks and hard suction of his mouth had become quite pleasurable. She watched the ripple of his muscles as he drove himself into her; the transfixing thought that all that power was hers to command. He’d given it to her. His wife.



Suddenly, for all her power, all her control, she found herself paralyzed. Unable even to moan out the orgasm that possessed her. She sat atop him, her throne, panting and trembling while her body was racked by spasms. She could only imagine how he felt, his manhood inside her battered by pressure and violent warmth, her arms hugging him violently as he pumped furiously into her cunt. At last it was over. She could fill her limp body with breath. He rocked her from side to side as she came down from her latest climax, her penetration a persistent reminder of his victory.



Ivy ended up staring over his shoulder into nothingness, her heavy breasts stirring against his chest with labored breathing. Her arms and legs useless, her body sucked down against his like kelp after the floodwaters had receded, she wondered if perhaps she hadn’t approached this the right way. Clearly, he had some issues with giving up control. Perhaps if she let him take the wheel—just until he died, of course—that would do the trick.



“Bruce?” she asked, cloyingly sweet. “Would you like to be on top?”



“If you don’t mind.”



“No, no–not just this once.”



She didn’t remember she had tied his hands until he’d ripped free of them. Then he had her in his arms, so powerful she felt trapped but also something else as he rolled, forcing Ivy under him. She landed on her back, the powerful buttress roots under her shoulders and knees like the armrests of a throne, and Bruce kneeling between her legs. He lifted her endless legs, kissing each as he draped them over his broad shoulders, then took hold of her hips and pulled her onto his waiting cock.



What did it matter if I screamed? Ivy would think, when she was capable of thought a few minutes later. It wasn’t like there was anyone around to hear her.



Then a heated kiss would break through the last of her walls, leaving her defenseless against the onslaught of pleasure that crashed down on her like a flood. Her hips bucked like a wild animal and her fingers dug into the rich soil under her as she wailed his victory over her, louder even than her cry of penetration had been.



When she was capable of thought, more than a few minutes later, she would try not to think about that.



***



After another nap taken in the aftermath of her midday sugar rush, Harley awoke with a hunger for more than SweetTarts. Calling the pizza number next to the phone, she delighted in discovering that the local pizzeria delivered pizza, cinnamon sticks, breadsticks, crazybread, chicken wings, chicken poppers, soda, and very big cookies. If only the pizza place delivered high explosives, she’d never shop anywhere else.



Harley ordered one of each, and a veggie pizza in case Bruce and Ivy wanted some. Veggies. Yick.



***



Ivy stretched happily and reclined under Bruce. When she felt his cock brush against her leg, she took it as a comforting promise. “What are you waiting for, hubby? You haven’t come yet.”



“You said just once.”



“Did I? You must’ve misheard me.”



***



Harley remembered a dark time in her life, when she’d had to watch her weight. Then Ivy gave her a shot that let them play together. There were some minor side effects, like superstrength and enhanced agility, but mostly, Harley could eat as much as she wanted and stay flat as a pancake.



“Guys, pizza’s here!” she announced after having three of everything. No answer, even to that. She decided to go look for them. They were probably wondering where she’d gotten to anyway.



***



Ivy lay under Bruce, burning and ice-cold and everything in-between. She gasped when she could breathe at all. She knew she’d had an orgasm recently—she could still feel fresh come on her inner thighs—but had no idea how long it’d taken her to recover from it.



Had it been dark out when they started?



“That was alright,” she stressed, reaching a hand up to caress his chiseled face—he hasn’t even broken a sweat. “But next time… harder and faster, okay? And rough. Very rough.”



“I could hurt you.”



“Oh, do try.”



***



Skipping through the halls of the mansion, it occurred to Harley that the reason Bruce didn’t want pizza might be the only reason someone wouldn’t want pizza. She broke into a run. Hopefully Ivy wasn’t killing him without her!



***



Facedown on the grass, surrounded by the claw marks where she’d gouged at the earth in her ecstasy, Ivy looked over her shoulder and saw Bruce regarding her with smug concern. Screw it. He had the right to feel smug after that.



“That all you got?” she asked hoarsely.



“I was just wondering if you wanted to break for lunch. I could bring you some refreshments if you’d like to rest a moment.”



“Fuck that. Get down here and do your husbandly duties. And don’t stop this time.” She licked her lips. “Not until I scream.”



***



As Harley had expected, being a smarty-pants, they were in the greenhouse. Harley could hear Ivy yelling, even if the actual words were muted by the glass walls. She hoped Bruce hadn’t forgotten to water one of Ivy’s plants. That always made Ivy yell at her.



Harley opened the door to the greenhouse and stepped inside. Pushing aside a few palm leaves, she stopped dead. Struck deaf and dumb by what she saw.



Ivy laid flat on the grass like a throw rug, spread-eagled, her hands gripping tree trunks on either side and her legs shooting straight up like a Rockette routine. Bruce laid atop her, naked, pumping himself up and down like it was exercise. He buffeted Ivy’s voluptrous body with unrestrained violence, each time sending ripples through Ivy’s generous curves. Her ass rippled, her breasts bounded, even her hair flew as her head shook in ecstasy. Her lips joined the act too, bursting out “Yes!” and “Fuck!” at every penetration. And Harley could see why.



Almost a foot of Bruce’s moisture-coated shaft dropped into Ivy with each thrust, though the thick base remained untouched no matter how wide Ivy’s legs spread. She was getting the cock—long, thick, and decidedly hard—that Harley had been denied the other night. And Bruce was kissing the moist lips that Harley thought were all hers, his hands sliding over Ivy’s writhing body like he owned it.



Harley felt a shock of betrayal, an urge to run to her room and cry into her pillow—if only she could talk to Mistah J. He’d understand.



She couldn’t stay. If she stayed, she would only be hurt more by what she saw. She kept watching, though. She had to see how far the betrayal went. Would he fuck Ivy’s tits? Her mouth? Her asshole? Harley had to know…



***



Far away and understandably unnoticed, the house phone rang and rang. Finally, the answering machine got it with a cheery recording Harley Quinn had already programmed into it. After the self-made radio jingle was over, beep!



“Hello, Mr. Wayne? Vicki Vale, Channel 5 News. Sorry to bother you at home, but as a fellow One Percent Fertile, I’d love to know your thoughts on the ongoing infertility crisis. My viewers are dying to know if you intend to marry more women, and if so, who? Perhaps I could interview you over dinner…?”

***



Harley felt a little itchy and a little squirmy and a lot hot, unable to stop thinking of how Bruce had disciplined her even as he did the opposite to Ivy. Ivy liked to talk about how she hated men, but she was enjoying every moment of this, bouncing underneath Bruce to meet his cock like she was on a trampoline.



Harley watched her hug Bruce with her legs, crushing him to her in a desperate attempt to intensify her own orgasm. Harley had to be impressed by how Bruce had made Ivy come even harder than Harley could with her joy buzzer and special plant. And not that Mistah J was a bad lover, but Bruce didn’t need a rubber chicken.



He let Ivy lay back on the grass like she was going to make snow angels, the sunlamps revitalizing her sweat-soaked skin. Harley distinctly went eep! when she saw him exit her. He looked even bigger than he had the other night!



As Harley watched, Bruce stroked himself, gathering their comingled fluids in his hand and feeding it to Ivy. She eagerly sat up to suck the juices from his fingers and lick his palm, then collapsed back to the ground and opened her legs in obvious invitation. Bruce had expected nothing less. He was already guiding his cock back to her womanhood. Harley gasped in unison with Ivy as it went in. She could already see the beginnings of Ivy’s next orgasm in the heaving breath she took.



Harley knew Mistah J was the love of her life and Ivy was her BFF. Still, she had to ask… could Bruce make her come like that?



***



Beep! “Hey Bruce, it’s Selina. About our little chat the other night—I’ve been having second thoughts. After all, if you were my husband, you couldn’t testify against me in court. If you want to talk about it, be at the Gotham Natural History Museum after hours. We can discuss that, and whether I should steal the Cat’s Eye Emerald or not. I’m in the pro column myself.”



***



Harley had always been an impulsive sort of girl. Without much in the way of conscious thought, she dropped her boxers to her ankles. Ivy had her ankles locked together at the small of Bruce’s back and was pumping Bruce deeper into her, clearly about to come. All Harley could think about was doing the same. She couldn’t stand Ivy finishing while she went without release.



And she wouldn’t. Bruce stopped, plunged to the hilt inside Ivy, who went mad with lust at the cessation. She threw herself up against the billionaire, kissing him frantically all over his face, her green lipstick covering him like camouflage. Bruce acted as if she weren’t there, staring directly at Harley, whose eyes were open very wide.



“Uh… hi there,” Harley quailed nervously. “We have pizza.”



“DON’T STOP! DON’T STOP! YOU BASTARD, HOW CAN YOU STOP?” Ivy was screaming, desperately rubbing herself up against Bruce to try to cajole him into continuing.



“I don’t recall saying you could touch yourself,” Bruce said calmly, as he idly kneaded one of Ivy’s plump tits. It did little to sooth her, judging by the way she grabbed his hand and forced it to her mouth, where she sucked pornographically on three of his fingers.



“I, ah, I… uhh… we have pizza?” Harley muttered. She crossed her slender arms over her chest, then dropped them down to try to pull the bottom of her shirt over her incriminatingly wet pussy.



“I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU DON’T MAKE ME COME, YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU’RE A DEAD MAN!”



Quite casually, Bruce put his hand over Ivy’s mouth. “Harley, I want you to sit down with your hands behind your back for an hour, saying nothing. If you do that, then I’ll allow you to touch yourself.”



Harley felt her juices trickling down past the ability of her shirt to cover. “Okey-dokey…” she nodded, shifting her weight with more than a little unease. She knelt down, biting her lip.



Bruce turned his attention back to Ivy. Taking his hand away, he drew himself out of her. Ivy shook her head in mute panic, opening her mouth to scream again when Bruce dove back into her. She went deathly still and all that came from her wide-open mouth was a gentle groan.



As Ivy came, Harley realized she didn’t need to touch herself. She had climaxed without even one finger in her cunt.



And Wayne wasn’t even finished.



***



Beep! “Mmm, Roxy Rocket here. Heard you liked to live on the edge, Wayne, but two psychos at once? That’s just fun. Maybe you could let me get in on the action. A three-on-one fight is just my kinda odds. Don’t bother calling, I’ll be dropping by soon enough. And don’t bother turning your security system off, either. I love a challenge. Let’s see if I can crash that big, busy bed of yours, lover-boy. And don’t worry, I like it rough.”



***



“Oww!” Ivy cried at her most undignified, feeling the tender flesh of her sex stretching painfully. For a while now Bruce’s thrusting had caused pain and pleasure in equal measure, like the thorns on a rose, but now, as she raced toward orgasm, it became unbearable. “Stop! It’s too big! It hurts!”



She flailed and Bruce grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her still as he gently withdrew from her, trying not to cause any more pain. Her crotch was flushed red, and Bruce’s air of confidence was replaced with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”



“Yes—yes,” Ivy grimaced. “It’s never lasted this long before. You—you fucked me raw.”



Of course, that brought a half-smile to the playboy’s stupid face. He leaned down to her ear. “Then where else can I put it?”



Ivy took his meaning instantly. Even Harley did. Ivy looked over to her friend and saw that the Cupid of Crime was quaking and making mouth-shut ‘ooh! ooh!’ noises like a kid in class who the teacher wouldn’t call on. Catching Ivy’s eye, she nodded her head ardently.



Her cunt still aching, sending jolts of pain through her body, Ivy rolled over and got on her elbows and knees. Her ass was presented for Bruce’s inspection, and she felt him do just that, eying it aesthetically while she laid with it up in the air, like a common whore.



It made Ivy feel dirty. A good sort of dirty.



She heard him spit, felt his fingers lubricate her asshole, stretch her out—it felt so good—then his cockhead sliding over her anus, seeking purchase. She groaned… already it felt far bigger than the brief intrusion of his fingers… she’d let Harley finger her ass before, but only when she begged and pleaded and stayed on her best behavior for weeks, and even then it was only Harley’s dainty little fingers, not… that.



But she couldn’t let Wayne win. She had to… get him to… do the thing… whatever it was.



Letting him fuck her in the ass would accomplish that, though, she was sure of it.



He ran his hand over her back, stroking her spine for a few moments as she felt his cock take hold. Then his hand flattened between her shoulder blades, almost like he was holding her facedown in the grass as he mounted her. She gasped as her asshole went taut, pushed to the limit. Then past it.



She had never taken anything so big and it was just the beginning, as Bruce let his body weight take over and drill him down into Ivy. Ivy bit down on the flesh of her forearm as her resistant asshole started to give, the pain intense but the pleasure more so, something deeply taboo tingling in her mind. This wasn’t something humans, animals, were meant to do, and that made it perfect for her.



Ivy groaned as her anus stalled him, but just for a few moments against his unrelenting pressure, then she felt him inside. Bruce let out a satisfied moan, like he’d just taken a long, cold drink after a day in the sun. Ivy clenched at him, her body trying to keep him out more than she was, but her twinges of discomfort were easy to overcome. Steadily, he worked his way inside, stopped when he heard her grunts become more pain than pleasure, waited as she accommodated him, then worked on her with a few short and slow thrusts. Ivy let out a long, pained exhale.



“Easy, easy,” he told her, petting her hair and soft back, brushing some of the leaves away. His strong, assertive voice calmed her. He could feel her relaxing. “It’s mine now. I’ve got it. You’ve given it to me.”



She accepted it, but still whined in drawn-out protest when he shifted his weight to her once more, squeezing into her tight ass. She buckled underneath him, dropping her head into the grass, but he was unstoppable. Her hole fought him every inch of way, but he moaned exaggeratedly to let her know he enjoyed it, and finally, she couldn’t resist anymore. Ivy felt her stretched asshole take all of him, his cock shooting inside her like a piledriver.



She screamed. Later, Harley would tell her she’d been saying “YES!



***



Beep! “Wayne, this is Calendar Girl. Couldn’t help but notice such an eligible bachelor taking up with two tacky whores named Ivy and Quinn. And then I couldn’t help but wonder, out of all the villainesses this city has to offer, why them? It finally came to me, Wayne. You think they’re prettier than me, don’t you? But all pretty girls know how to do is lay there and look pretty. Ugly girls can use more than looks to please a man. Mark your calendar, loverboy—you’ll see me soon.”



***



“OH NO, NOT AGAIN!” Ivy yelled.



Bruce had had her by the hips and was dragging her anus onto his cock as her breasts swung heavily under her and her ass jiggled with each blow. Her toes were curling, her lips were pursing, her skin was sweating, her eyes were closed and she was about to come from being fucked in the ass. In fact, her arms had just given out and she’d slumped to the grass, her ass only staying in place because Bruce held onto it. It was all part of the best orgasm she’d ever had since the last orgasm she’d had, when suddenly Bruce stopped. Again.



“MAKE ME COME, YOU SON OF A BITCH, I NEED IT, I’M NEARLY THERE! PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU!”



Bruce ignored her, though his cock was hard and immense in her well-punished ass. “Harley, it’s been an hour. You can touch yourself now.”



Harley had been sitting down like she was in a trance, squeezing her thighs together in an attempt to match the pleasure Ivy was receiving, but at his word, she dropped both hands between her legs.



The results were instanteous—they hit so fast that Harley had to lie down to avoid going completely unconscious. The greenhouse swam before her eyes until she turned to Ivy and saw Red clear as day. She was coming too.



Bruce had started fucking her again.



***



Beep! “Bruce, are you there? It’s Dick, pick up if you’re there. Pick up, pick up, pick uppppp! You’re not there. Okay, Bruce, look, I broke my leg in one of those ‘skiing accidents’ our family keeps having, so I’m going to come over to your place to rest up. Don’t worry, I’ll be ‘downstairs,’ you won’t even notice I’m there. Sorry to impose, but I just can’t stay at the Clocktower for at least a week. Man, you had the right idea, Bruce. Start out small, marry two women. Even if they’re crazy, there’s just two of them. But Babs didn’t want all her girls to be single while she got hitched. I thought they were all lesbians! I was just supposed to be a beard! Now Zinda’s pinched me so many times I’m gonna have scar tissue on my ass! I just need to go a few days without a threesome, that’s all. Don’t tell Barbara where I am, she has nurse outfits… where are you, anyway? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours…”



***



Harley’s arms were covered with gooseflesh and it felt like her legs couldn’t hold her weight, even though she was sitting down. She was watching Bruce punch his cock into Ivy’s ass, enjoying the strained noises they both made. Ivy was grunting and moaning with every one of the short, powerful thrusts Bruce made into her ass. The restrained, impetuous goddess Harley had long-known was gone. This woman was like Harley. She enjoyed being fucked.



Harley was circling her clit with her fingers—it was hard to pin down, slippery as it was, but she enjoyed the chase, the electric tingles as her fingers slid around it. She watched as Ivy did the same: meeting her eyes, Ivy reached down between her own legs. Red loosed a ragged gasp as she made contact; echoed by Harley as the blonde found her clit. Bruce was speeding up too, feeling all of their sensations combining and overlapping. Harley watching Ivy, Ivy watching Harley, him watching both of them. He went hard and fast into Ivy, leaning down close to the tangled nest their lovemaking had made of her hair.



“I’m gonna come,” he whispered into her ear, and her hand quickened on her cunt and clit.



Harley sped up too, fingers dancing inside her.



Ivy’s body was clamping down on Bruce, now seeming to want to keep him inside forever. There was no pain, just the feeling of the full measure of his cock, all the way inside up. She was actually compelled to push back, feel even more of him inside her.



Harley came first, so eager to please that she picked up on the urges of the other two and gave vent to them. Her head fell back, mouth open, drooling, legs spread to display her pussy to the world as it quivered in orgasm.



Then Ivy. She screamed so loud her voice went hoarse, her hips driving back against Bruce so violently that she actually moved him several inches. Then she came with thundering finality, her nectar so plentiful that Harley could see it coat her fingers anew every time she stroked herself.



Finally, Bruce buried himself in Ivy’s ass, his cock virtually disappearing inside her to loosen an ejaculation that a dam couldn’t stop. As soon as it hit Ivy, she was in its grip. She felt a second orgasm on top of her first, her mind no longer remotely her own, but a puppet being moved by the strings of Bruce Wayne and her own treacherous, well-pleasured body.



Finished, Bruce stood, his exit prompting an avalanche of jism to flow from Ivy’s ravished ass. He looked down at Ivy, dazed and barely conscious, her holes gaping and her weak body still shaking with pleasure. A few meters away, Harley was in much the same state, her hands still clasped between her legs like she was trying to hold in the ecstatic sensation.



As for Bruce, his cock laid limp between his legs. “Now I think I could use that leaf of yours,” he said. “If you’re up for it.”



Ivy rolled over, her heavy-lidded eyes struggling to focus on them. “Why wouldn’t I be?” she demanded, before passing out.



Before he let, Bruce picked up Harley and deposited her limp body beside Ivy. The two women instinctively curled up into each other, Harley first, then Ivy.





***



Naked, Bruce walked to the kitchen. After sublimating his desires for so long, coming out of it meant he was famished. He drank the entire jug of orange juice in the refrigerator, then saw that someone had ordered pizza, even if the leftovers weren’t to his liking.



Vegetables.



It surprised him, but he had to admit he’d taken pleasure in his time with Ivy. He hadn’t been able to let himself enjoy it too much, but there’d been a definite satisfaction there. After so many years of Ivy trying to seduce him, her pheromones toying with his system, her body paraded before him as a constant temptation—it’d felt only right to finally take her. The same way he’d enjoyed Harley.



He’d always thought of this part of the marriage as an obligation, something he’d eventually trust Harley and Ivy to take care of on their own. But now that he was partaking, it occurred to him that this was a definite side benefit. No wonder Dick did it so often. It was wonderful for morale.



Bruce was just reaching for another slice when a hand grabbed it from him. Past the slim wrist, it was defined by a silver bracer.



“Interesting dinner attire,” Diana, princess of the Amazons, said before taking a bite.



They looked each other over without a hint of self-consciousness. Bruce had no wish to hide what he’d been doing, no sense of modesty in either of them to be offended. Diana’s costume had always been one-part the frame around the painting, designed to showcase her beauty as much as defend it. Even if that wasn’t the note Bruce usually tried to strike, he wouldn’t pretend it wasn’t gratifying for the sight of him to be enjoyed by a beautiful woman, just as it had been with his wives.



“If you’re here to object, I believe you’re in the ‘forever hold your peace’ timeframe.”



Diana swallowed her bite. “How could I object? The Amazon way has always been victory through love, not violence.”



“You could be a great help to me then.” Diana took a considering bite, breaking the tension of the proposal. Bruce did not take this as dissuading. “With you as my wife, riding herd on the others, we could focus on real threats. Talia al Ghul. Red Claw. Cheetah. Circe.”



Diana smiled fondly at him. “I know you mean well… but that’s exactly the reason I can’t. The pressure I feel when you make that offer. Millions of women look up to me as a role model, and I have to show them that even if they’re in the One Percent Fertile, it’s alright for them not to take a husband. Not if it’s something that isn’t right for them.”



Bruce cleared his voice of rancor. “I was under the impression I could be right for you.”



She touched his cheek. “Bruce… you asked me to marry you so we could be parole officers together.”



Her hand stayed at his face. “Funny. I was just thinking of how I’d changed. Harley, Ivy… they’re exceptional women. Any man would be lucky to have them, provided they don’t kill him. Maybe… I think you know more about being a good husband than me.”



Diana pursed her lips. The Amazons did not take wives, but there were some who had found their way into her bed time and time again. She treasured them all. “I don’t know Quinzel and Isley as well as I’d like. But underneath all the wars you’ve waged with them, they’re still people. You can bribe them with your riches and rule them with your psychology. But eventually, they will need love.”



“That’s never come easy to me.”



She leaned in to kiss his cheek. It felt oddly like a promise. “Let it come and it will. Underneath your wars, you’re human too.”



When he looked at her, she was more beautiful than ever. “Those women who look up to you… do you also intend to show them that a woman can change her mind?”



“My mind is made up. I won’t marry the Batman. But if Bruce Wayne asked…” She left the rest unspoken. “Now, I’d never suggest you don’t have a situation under control, but is there anything I can do to help?” Her eyes darted to his ring finger. “Besides that?”



“I’ve never had a head for gift-giving, but could you pick up something appropriately extravagant for Master Patel, my yoga instructor from some years ago? Bill it to me, of course. If he asks, tell him it’s in gratitude to him for teaching me the Kantic Trance. It came in very helpful just recently.”



“Oh? You needed to meditate under any waterfalls?”



There had been a good deal of moisture involved. “Something like that.”



Diana bowed formally. “I’ll see to it. Thank you for allowing me to dine in your house, and my apologies for intruding without permission. I was merely concerned for your safety.”



“No apology is needed, princess. You’re always welcome here.”



“And it’s always a pleasure. Tell Harley that she may not have trained with real Amazons, but I would be glad to consider her a sister, if she wishes to go down that path. And let Ivy know that she may consider herself a god, but I’ve fought deities before. When my friends were threatened.”



With a tight nod, Diana took flight. The skylight was open in the open room.



Bruce watched her go and thought about her words.



***



That night, Ivy woke up to find Harley wasn’t lying at her side.



She was in Bruce’s bedroom, traipsing with all her stealth through his door. She’d left her boxers back in the greenhouse—a fact that, unbeknownst to her, was causing Ivy a great deal of consternation—and her shirt billowed loosely about her body as she tip-toed toward the bed.

“Hey, bro! There is a late night industry pool party going on at Wilderness tonight. You know the place. The waitresses are all really stacked and gorgeous. Mario insists his girls have boob jobs. Remember? Let’s head over tonight.”



Paul answered the phone in a half dazed state setting down his video game control stick. Boredom had started to take over. He was between women and his time was too liquid. Ever since buying into the restaurant franchise that had taken off like wildfire, he had all the time and money in the world to play, but there were only so many things to do. He started to absorb what his friend Leo had to say, and decided that yes, some female companionship would lighten the boredom.



“Sure, man, let’s do it. I could use some eye candy. It will wake me up. I’ll pick you up at midnight and let’s rock then roll some tarts.”



Paul felt the excitement of a new anticipated thrill. Mario employed the hottest chicks in the business. He always liked sweet challenges.



Salina grimaced with the realization that she would have to buy two bikinis; one to fit her bottom and the other to fit her new Double Ds. Recently Mario had approached her and insisted that if she wanted to work there and keep making the outstanding cash she had been making, she needed to get a boob job. Being the shooter girl had worked for her. So did making $100 dollars an hour in tips. There was no way she wanted to give that up. Salina glanced at her shooter holster knowing it was her dream job. Having these new toys however, put being admired to a new high.



She realized that it really just meant that more men would get the “I got a boyfriend” speech. This last week it seemed like the start of every conversation. Not only did she get even more attention, but her tips at gone through the roof. When men glanced in her direction and saw her position a shooter between her tits while some lucky sob leaned over to retrieve it, they knew they had to have that experience too. Now with her Double Ds, there were line ups. Her regular big spenders had to wait their turn.



Salina looked down at her new investment. They were a week old and were already changing her life. Her swimsuit top showed off her bulging cleavage. It barely contained her nipples. The pool party was in full swing and she was chatting with her friends in the pool leaning over a water mattress when Paul spotted her.



She immediately intrigued him. Her long black hair, smoky brown eyes, and amazing body made him feel a stir in his core. She was laughing with her friends. Paul noticed that several men had gathered around the fringe of her group. Their eyes were constantly attentive to Salina’s appealing cleavage. Their attentiveness made him crave her even more.



“Who’s that?” Paul asked Leo.



“Oh, she’s one of the shooter girls at Wilderness. She’s a sweet plum. Just had her boobs done. She looks outstanding, doesn’t she? Just keep watching buddy cause that’s as close as she’ll let you get. She crushes hearts every single shift by claiming she has a boyfriend, but I’ve never seen her around a guy, so this mysterious boyfriend she says she has, must be hiding. I know I’d never leave a girl like that alone.”



Paul couldn’t take his eyes off her. The few times she looked in his direction he smiled at her with his most alluring seductive smile.



Salina couldn’t stop herself from looking. The attractive man sitting by the side of the pool seemed to be the whole package and his eyes were focused on her every time she looked. Not being able to help herself, Salina began looking at the handsome stranger with the intelligent eyes, with slow, seductive, secretive glances.



“Fuck she’s hot. I want to tame her and make her my little sex slut. Look at how fucking hot she is Leo. And she wants me. I can tell,” remarked Paul.



“You’re fucking dreaming buddy. Men have been trying to crack that case for a couple of years now, without any luck. Good on you buddy, though. If you think you can do her, go for it.”



Paul and Salina continued sneaking glances as the tiki torches fluttered in the night air.



Was that a wink? Paul watched Salina walk over to the hot tub. It was 2:00 am now and most of the party goers had gone home in various states of inebriation.



Paul had noticed Salina drinking red wine and poured them both a glass. He walked towards her and passed her the plastic wine glass as he sat down beside her in the hot tub. As he passed her the glass he leaned in and kissed her softly, with out a word, catching her by surprise.



Salina was startled by his smooth and swift advance. Her beating heart thumped with excitement and she settled into their sweet, seductive, alluring kiss that overtook her senses. They kissed for ten minutes. People let them have their space but watched their seduction from a distance. Then his hands were on her thighs as the bubbling water concealed their destination. He inched his way towards the outside of her bikini bottom. Applying mild pressure, her circled the outside of her bikini bottom making her gasp as he kissed her. Before they put on too much of a show, he stopped.



“Come with me. Come be with me tonight, you sexy gorgeous woman. I want to be inside you. I want to feel your hands all over me, and I want to excite you beyond your wildest dreams. I will adore you with my mouth and tongue. Come be with me tonight Salina. I will make your very happy,” Paul cooed.



Salina knew she had no choice. Her heart had spoken. This attractive, sandy haired hunk of a man may be twenty years older than her, but he had all the charm of a hundred men. She had never been more turned on her life and knew she wanted this.



Leo had already found himself a sexy tart and was long gone. Excitedly they made their way towards the front of the restaurant.



“That’s one hot car,” she remarked as the valet pulled up in his candy apple red Lamborghini.



“Only the best for you sweetheart,” he replied eyeing her gorgeous features.



They pulled up to his estate in the Hollywood Hills after flying through the numerous swirling highways on the way there.



The gate opened and she was greeted by an ultra modern house built into a cliff with an elaborate garden surrounding it.



When he helped her out of the car Paul pulled her close to his aroused body and continued kissing her like she was a beautiful princess. It was a very different experience in comparison to the boys that usually pursued her. They were all testosterone with no common sense. Boys her age often started their approach with a gratuitous boob graze and a rude come on line. But this man, he was different. His eyes, his lips and his mouth reflected a deep desire that was stronger than the pure lust most men had to offer.



They walked past the elaborate gardens and into the foyer of his enormous house.



“This place is amazing,” Salina exclaimed excitedly as they explored.



“Do you mind if I take a shower? I’d like to wash off the pool water,” Salina said.



“Sure doll, hurry back. There are fresh towels on the rack, help yourself.”



When the water started trickling Paul fought back every urge to slip in beside her and fuck her in the shower. He knew better. This girl needed to be admired and feel like she’s in charge. Maybe she’d want me as her Pet, crossed his mind. Maybe that’s what thrilled her. Whatever it was he would find out and use it to make her his.



While she showered he distracted himself by putting on seductive music. He then lit the room with large, flicking, scented candles.



Then there she was standing in front of him with a big bath towel wrapped around her amazing body.



“You are gorgeous honey. Come here beautiful.”



He pulled her close to him then. They kissed deeply, intensely, lustfully.



“My turn doll. I’ll be quick,” Paul said as he headed towards the shower.



“Hurry back,” Salina said as she let the top part of her towel slip, exposing her gorgeous big breasts.



It was the quickest shower Paul ever had. When he returned Salina was laying nude on her side like a swimsuit model. Her body was sheer, young, perfection. Every curve needed to be satisfied and he was the man to do it. Paul smiled when he caught sight of her brazilin wax. It was a definite added turn on.



“Could you be any more perfect, or alluring,” Paul asked Salina as he approached her sexiness.



“Come here and let that towel drop handsome.”



Salina smiled as she saw he was also freshly waxed.



She loved sucking cock and his was magnificent. So big and hard in his hand. His six pack gleamed above it.



Paul could see she wanted him in her sexy mouth and stood in front of her doing as she directed.



Soon he was enjoying the blow job of lifetime. Her enthusiasm drove him insane.



“I’m going to cum in your mouth, if you don’t stop.”



She sucked him in a lingering, seductive way, then released him and whispered seductively, “I want your taste in my mouth. I want you coating my lips and my tits.”



With those words Paul found his hard cock between her luscious tits. She sucked him and fucked his cock with her tits for a long time. Watching her work his cock made his need to fuck her even more intense.



Salina tasted the warm, heated, creamy pleasure she loved so much as Paul emptied between her sexy lips, his grunts and pleasure echoing throughout the room.



“Soak my tits,” she urged as his next big spurt landed on her big gorgeous tits.



Paul slipped into the bed beside her. He slid his hand up and down the length of her amazing body. Using a finger he twirled his cum around her gorgeous, erect, nipples.



She pulled his head forward.



Like a dog Paul eagerly lapped up his cum for the pleasure of experiencing Salina’s big beautiful tits. He soaked his face in cum while doing her bidding. It didn’t phase him. He was lost in lust. Next he sucked on her rosebud nipples making them super hard and achy. He slid his teeth over top of them very slowly. Paul continued treating her colossal mambas like fine wine, his licks eliciting numerous moans then he dipped two fingers in her wet pussy. Salina arched her back uttering a soft “please”.



“C’mere,” Salina said as she pulled Paul’s face towards hers licking off the cum that coated it.



Salina was calling the shots and Paul was enjoying every seductive moment. Soon they were in a full 69 position enjoying a frenzy of lustful sensations. They licked and pleased and teased each other for a long time. The couple’s actions become more tense, more erratic and orgasmic as time went by. They teased and played with each other’s tight little holes adding a higher level of enjoyment and wild sensations. As their fingers and mouths stimulated Salina and Paul released their wet pleasure for one another to enjoy.



After her first orgasm was achieved with the magic of his swirling tongue Paul continued licking Salina seeking another o after placing her on her back with her legs spread wide. Paul didn’t stop licking her as she arched and bucked a series of subtle and sometimes intense orgasms. He filled her pussy lips deeply with his hard cock making her moan with every deep, passionate, thrilling, thrust.



Paul wanted Salina to feel extreme pleasure and he wanted her to feel loved and treasured. Paul drove her wild when he rubbed his cock along her clit as he made love to her. Paul’s touch and attentiveness made Salina feel amazing, like nothing she had ever experienced before.



“I’m going to cum now. I’m going to fill you with my passion sweet girl,” Paul called out as he felt the beginning of an intense orgasm.



Salina’s legs and pussy tightened around him as they both felt the familiar spasms of a thousand endorphins being release in their bodies.



“Fill me!” she shouted out as she fell into the throes of her orgasm.



Paul came inside her then holding her close as their mutual orgasm rocked them both.



“Baby, you fulfill me, you are the most stunning creature I have ever met. Let me hold you and make you mine. I adore you.”



She hugged him and looked dreamily into his handsome face.



Paul’s eyes portrayed a brilliant sparkle as he said the words that woke up her heart. It heightened all her senses and sent her endorphins reeling throughout her sensual body. She had never met a man so caring and sincere, and she didn’t remember the last time she felt so good.



They laid there together for over and hour until the phone rang and they unwillingly had to release each other.



When Paul returned he brought her snacks on a tray. Exotic fruits and sauces with small triangular wedge shaped waffles greeted her eyes. The coffee was fresh and mixed with the scent of sex in the room.



“Come join me,” came the voice from the steaming shower.



“With pleasure sweetheart,” he replied.



The sight before him made his hard again. Her big beautiful tits stood proud and firm as the water trickled over them. Her sleek trim body and shapely ass stopped him in his tracks. Paul couldn’t remember the last time he had been so turned on by the image of woman.



Coming up behind her Paul pressed into her and started kissing her neck softly. Salina put her head back jutting her tits out so they reached toward the sky. He slipped one hand under her, feeling her wet folds and slid two fingers inside her. Salina started riding his fingers, rubbing his cock with her booty as she did. Salina’s body moved beautifully. Her gorgeous tits jiggled with every movement. Paul put himself inside Salina then. His hands fastened onto her big breasts for leverage as he started fucking her, bending her just so, so he would fill her very deeply. His manhood slid inside of her slowly and powerfully as he pulled her towards him, increasing speed as they went until their bodies slapped together hard and fast.



Paul was selfless in his approach, yet dominant at times. His goal was to make sure Salina felt extreme pleasure and felt loved and treasured. It was working. Paul’s touch and attentiveness made her feel amazing.



As their bodies slapped together, Paul filled her deeply with his big long cock, making her moan with every deep, passionate, thrust.



“I’m going to cum now. I want to fill you with my passion for you my sweet girl,” Paul offered.



Salina’s legs tightened around him.



“Fill me!”She shouted out as she fell into the throes of her orgasm.



Paul came inside her then holding her close as their mutual orgasm rocked them both.



“Baby, you fulfill me, you are the most stunning creature I have ever met. Let me hold you and make you mine.”



His eyes portrayed a brilliant sparkle as he said the words that woke up her heart. It heightened all her senses and sent her endorphins reeling throughout her sensual body. She had never met a man so caring and sincere, and she didn’t remember the last time she felt so good.



They laid there together for over and hour until the phone rang and they unwillingly had to release each other.



When Paul returned he brought her snacks on a tray. Exotic fruits and sauces with small triangular wedge shaped waffles greeted her eyes. The coffee was fresh and mixed with the scent of sex in the room.



“Come join me,” came from the steaming shower.



“With pleasure sweetheart,” he replied.



The sight before him made his hard again. Her big beautiful tits stood proud and firm as the water trickled over them. Her sleek trim body and shapely ass stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so turned on by the image of woman. Coming up behind her Paul pressed into her and started kissing her neck softly. Salina pulled back her long neck, jutting her tits out so they reached toward the sky. He slipped one hand under her, grabbing her tuft of hair. Salina moaned as he was feeling her wet folds and slid two fingers inside her. Salina started riding his fingers, rubbing his cock with her many booty moves as she did. Her body moved beautifully and her gorgeous tits jiggled with every movement.



Paul put his hard throbbing cock in her pussy from behind, putting his hands around her big breasts as he pulled her towards him. Water dripped over her as he slid his big, throbbing, hard meat into her wet, eager, pussy. When her orgasm erupted he held her tight, then started pounding her like an animal. Her already very wet pussy slushed around him as he drove her hard. Seconds later his sticky wet cum spilled into her warm, wet, pussy.



They toweled each other off, kissing each other’s sexy bodies as they did.



The waffles, assorted fruit and sauces, and powdered sugar awaited them beside his bed.



“Lay down flat on the bed on your back gorgeous,” Paul encouraged as he tapped her cute, round ass.



Paul took the sauces, along with the powered sugar, and dibbled and dabbled drops and spoonfuls all over her hot body. Some well placed strawberries, mangos, and blueberries stood fixed in the middle of sauces like individual little desserts.



Paul started devouring her by placing his mouth on the chocolate sauces he had placed on her nipples. He circled his tongue, nibbled and caressed Salina’s nipples for a very long time. She was dripping wet and ready for his hard cock within the first minute.



Salina closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations as he circled her body nibbling at her. Knowing he would lick, tease and tantalize every inch of her drove her insane. Never had a man been so attentive, so exciting, so adventurous. All she knew was that she was enjoying every minute of this exotic adventure.



“Oooo oooo, fuck yes,” Salina called out as his fingers and mouth worked on her pussy. The sensations were vibrant and varied. She watched him take a large strawberry between his lips. Her pussy lips felt the graze of his teeth as he inserted it into her pussy. Then he fucked her with it. The suction as the red fruit went in and out drove her wild.



Salina realized that she was crazy horny for his man. She was bucking to his licks and swirls when a dynamic orgasm overtook her. She rode the wave for a long time making soft noises. When she subsided he put some cut up mangos and whipped cream in her pussy and scooped it up with a waffle wedge, wolfing it down. It was so erotic.



“You taste so good baby,” he said while taking a bite then giving it to her to taste.



The scent of her come mixed with the fresh fruit filled the air as she tasted her come and ate her breakfast.



The enjoyed each other all after noon and felt the excitement of new romance in every movement and thought.



“I will have to get home eventually, I work tomorrow night,” Salina sadly pointed out.



“Oh, gorgeous, I don’t want you to go back to work; I want you here in my arms.”



With those words he held her close. As she told him about work he had an idea.



“Look babe, I need a “Yes” girl. Like a personal assistant. What ever you usually bring home in a month I’ll triple it.”



“What about Mario? He’ll be mad that I left him high and dry.”



“I know Mario. Don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure he’s happy and well taken care of, and your job will be there anytime you want to go back.”



“What about my regulars? They’ll get suspicious that I up and disappeared.” Salina questioned.



“They’ll be told you went to help an aunt across country, so none will be tempted to contact you. You can live here with me, and we can enjoy each other every day and night. What do you say?” Paul asked softly while holding her in his arms.



“Yes,” said the yes girl. “How can I refuse?”



This man was giving her a ride she didn’t want to get off of. Paul’s hands moved up to her perfect mounds. Their mouths greeted each other with longing as they sealed the deal. The promise of sexual excitement was a vibe they couldn’t resist.



The days went by with blissful feelings, erotic loving making and fucking in many different positions all over the house. One time she watched in the mirror as he entered her while she had one foot up on a chair. Another time she was on the bathroom counter being pushed into the corner wall mirror by his hard thrusts.

I had to admit that it sounded a bit silly to me at first. It was a fraternity, right? There would be a little hazing, some kind of initiation, and then we would be welcome members of the local Greek community. Well, as it turned out, I had picked something very different from your standard glorified party club. How was I to know that when I joined them?



A part of me suspected that I was admitted to Sigma Omega Sigma because I was older than most and had the proper ID to be a great straw buyer of booze. None of that would be among the official reasons, of course, but I wasn’t a fool. I’d been in the Navy and secured a college fund between its program and my savings. I was still in the Reserve, naturally. I’d seen more hazing in boot camp than most Greek organizations could imagine, delivered by drill instructors who knew how to really weed out the unfit. I was a man and most of my classmates were still youths.



What I didn’t know, I quickly found out on day one of the “orientation”, a code name for initiation that had supposedly been banned by the administration. I learned much that morning, when I was roused from my bed on a Saturday morning and led blindfolded to a vault underneath the main fraternity hall. It was a day that would transform me forever, in a very fortunate way.



When my blindfold was removed, I saw a naked woman, her eyes covered up as well. In front of her stood a tall, equally naked guy with a whip. Her mouth was engaged in sucking his cock and there were marks from the whip across her back and buttocks. I saw cum leaking from her other holes, proving that she had already been fucked every way possible as well as whipped.



“Alright, lads. Step right up and take your pleasure. There are some rules, however. Rule one: no rubbers here in Covenant Hall. We at Sigma Omega Sigma reserve such things for liars, women whom we can’t trust. Heather here can be trusted. She lives to serve us, don’t you, Heather? That’s a good girl. You, there. You look slightly older than most. What’s your name? Tell it to Heather, right before you fuck her,” the man with the whip pointed it at me.



“I’m Mark. Should I say my last name, too?” I asked the stranger.



“No. That’s rule two: no last names here. We are all brothers. We pledge our sacred honor to this covenant, that we are of the same blood and the same heart. First names only. Very well, you have told Heather that you are Mark. You will fuck her, either in the cunt or the ass. Rule three: we never call it a pussy. It’s always a cunt. Why? Because that’s derived from the Latin root ‘cunnus’, an older and less mushy term for that part of the woman’s anatomy. Now, fuck her, Mark,” he directed me.



I had to admit that I was hard as granite from seeing the woman’s naked ass. The fact that she had been whipped and didn’t seem to hold it against her assailant was also a real turn-on. Her willingness to suck a man’s dick didn’t hurt, either. I approached her and put aside all fears of social diseases and such. I had committed myself to this brotherhood for at least a term, and I should see it through. I didn’t quit the Navy in spite of my fears, so why would I let something easy like this stop me?



My cock buried itself into Heather’s asshole, since I had gone far too long without anal sex. My last girlfriend had seen to that, with her hatred of sodomy. Well, that was only one of the reasons why she was my ex. I needed to get that urge out of my system and Heather was an easy channel for my lust. I grasped her now crimson cheeks while I buggered her, intensifying her pain as well as her evident pleasure. I realized then that she was a pain slut. She loved it when someone hurt her.



I thrust angrily into Heather’s ass, using her for my self-gratification without any sense of shame. After all, this was what I was told to do. I agreed to follow orders and I would do just that. Besides, she seemed to really enjoy the strokes as I butt-fucked her. I felt her squirm with arousal and smelled her wet cunt.



I ignored the fact that other men had clearly used Heather and left their cum behind as evidence. That was apparently one of the bonding aspects of our communal existence. As I came, I noticed as she no longer sucked off the guy with the whip. Instead, he was soft again and she was busy licking drops of his seed off the floor. Sensing that she needed some gesture of approval, I slapped each of her cheeks once after I pulled out and returned to the line of guys.



“Impressive, Mark. You show a lot of promise already. See, brethren? He took his pleasure without any obvious guilt or pangs of self-doubt. He didn’t let performance anxiety stop him. Instead, he sodomized a girl he never met in front of us, his new brothers. That was a very risky act, but it was a gamble that will pay off for you, Mark. I see much potential for leadership here if you keep this up.



“I’m also pleased to see that you used your anger in a good cause and a controlled manner. Furthermore, you gave her a token of your satisfaction by granting her the pain and attention that she enjoys so much. You figured out what Heather is. She is a pain slut. She is here by her own free will. Nobody abducted or raped her. I won’t tell you her background. That is not important. What matters is that Mark here knew exactly how to handle this natural slave.



“Who’s next? How about you, yeah, you, the guy who can’t keep his hands off his dick? Rule number four: no masturbation in Sigma Omega Sigma at all. We don’t jack off, because we have sluts to help us with our needs. Masturbation is for those poor saps out there who don’t have women to serve them. It is a mark of lesser men, who don’t know how to enslave and dominate women.



“Let me make this clear. This is not a normal fraternity. This is a brotherhood of like-minded men, an order of fellow masters. When we’re done with you, if we find you worthy, you’ll be a member of an elite that officially doesn’t exist. You’ll know better than that, of course. Society has brainwashed you, told you lies and propaganda.



“You’ve been taught that men and women are equal, but with the subtle message that women are really more equal than men. That is hogwash, claptrap, poppycock. Equality is a state of mind, an abstraction that rarely exists in real life. The truth is that you are only as great and worthy as you deserve. To earn it, you must both have potential for excellence and the will to make yourself achieve it.



“What we seek here are masters, dominant men who are capable of ruling the women in their lives. To be a master is to be the true alpha male. A master doesn’t let the woman set the rules. A master doesn’t let a woman rule him with her cunt. A master doesn’t limit himself to one woman. He fucks whomever he pleases and he doesn’t put up with lies or mental games. He isn’t cruel in the sense of being unjust, but he is cruel in the sense of being willing to cause necessary pain. Most of all, he handpicks the right women to enslave.



“So, Mr. Masturbator, what is your name?” the stranger lectured us.



“Justin, sir,” he stammered.



“Don’t call me ‘sir’. That’s a mark of submission. That’s what some submissives or slaves call their masters. If you’re really capable of doing this, prove it. Fuck Heather in whichever hole you wish,” he told the kid.



Justin was clearly a rich boy out of his depth. He nervously approached Heather and tried to penetrate her cunt in vain. He couldn’t get it up anymore. His hard-on was gone. Something was very wrong. Heather sensed it, too, as she showed by sighing with impatience. I wondered if the trainer was aware of her exasperation.



“Alright, that’s enough. Justin, stand up. Now, kneel beside Heather,” the instructor told the pledge.



Justin not only didn’t question the order, but he started getting hard again as he knelt. There was no doubt as far as I was concerned, and my unspoken thoughts seemed to also be in the organizer’s mind. Justin wasn’t up to the standards of Covenant Hall. The master of ceremonies then brought the whip to Justin’s back and his victim made involuntary noises of excitement. Justin was anything but a master. He was a slave at heart.



“Alright, Mark, here’s a chance for you to advance even further beyond your present ranking. Use this lube and fuck Justin in the ass. Don’t be shy. I think that he’ll like it. Won’t you, Justin?”



“Yes, sir,” Justin agreed in spite of his fear.



I saw no real alternative. I did as the boss told me and lubricated both my cock and Justin’s asshole. I’d never screwed a guy before, but I was excited to assert my dominance over this pretty boy. He reminded me of a lot of guys like him, preppies who thought that they were better because they were more “civilized”. In reality, they were good for nothing but arm candy for some domineering man or woman. I didn’t know if Justin was gay, straight, or bi, but I suspected that he enjoyed taking a dick up the ass for more than just the submission of it.



If I seemed to be teacher’s pet, I didn’t mind. I’d been unusually well regarded by my drill instructors and high school teachers as well, though the former didn’t show it until after I’d graduated from boot camp. One of the latter demonstrated it a lot earlier, by spreading her legs and taking my eighteen-year old virginity as soon after my birthday as she could get me alone. This always resulted in some envy from my peers, but it wasn’t my fault that they often slacked off or otherwise failed to measure up.



My cock plowed furiously into Justin’s ass, bringing him so much pleasure that he came from the violation. This boy was at least bi, that much was clear. He was also extremely submissive to me and others. He was in the wrong role here. I wondered what would be his fate, now that his true self had been caught.



I used Justin’s butt for a timeless interval, lost in the moment of having my way with another human being. It was almost as much fun as taking Heather. The only difference was that she was softer and sexier. If Justin felt any shame at being sodomized, he didn’t say a thing about it. I fucked him with ruthless strokes, making him my bitch for at least that period of time. The instructor showed amusement as he watched us, but he kept silent until I emptied my balls into Justin’s colon.



“Okay, Justin, get up and take a cloth to wipe off Mark’s cock. Your ass hasn’t been trained and cleaned out like Heather’s, but that will change. When you’re done, we’ll discuss your future, which isn’t as rosy as you previously thought,” the mysterious man declared.



“What you’ve seen here is the best example in years of the difference between a real master and a slut boi. It’s quite a contrast. Justin was born to be a slave, though I’m not sure whether he’s gay or bi. He’s certainly not straight. No hetero guy would enjoy taking a man’s cock up his ass that much.



“Justin, tell me honestly, are you bi or gay? Be truthful here. I want to know. It will possibly decide what we do with you. The Council has given me authority to resolve that matter and I will base it on all of the relevant facts. So, tell me, here and now, which one you are. I know that you’re very submissive, but what is your sexual preference?” the boss continued.



“I’m gay, sir. I love to be fucked by guys, but girls do nothing for me. Sorry, but I didn’t dare to tell my family. It would be a disgrace. My father’s old-fashioned and my mother even more so. They will disown me if you tell them. I hope that I went to college, I could be myself. I didn’t think that this fraternity was any different from the others. I never realized that it was about bondage and other kinky stuff. I just needed a place to stay and wanted the company of horny guys,” Justin confessed timidly.



“That part is easy. You’ll stay here, but as a house boi. This means that you’ll live with us and service us sexually, as well as accept any discipline and domination that we choose to give you. You wouldn’t be the first house boi or the last. You’d be the male version of Heather here, who is a house slut. The alternative is to leave within the week and received hypnotic instructions to keep your mouth shut.



“Again, I won’t relate how she came to be that, except to say that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and we presented her with a number of options. She chose this one, understandably. It’s fun for her, at least, up to and including the same kind of correction and bondage that you will experience. She is one of several house sluts, of course. If you’ll notice, she wears a collar. You will wear one as well and will have to drop out of college.



“House boys are expected to devote themselves totally to the service of the order, as are house sluts. In return, they get free room, board, etc. When they are allowed out of the house, they are taken discreetly to places whose owners understand their circumstances. If it is an ostensibly mainstream location, then they are clothed and the collars are temporarily removed. Otherwise, it’s naked and collared.



“Trust me, if you agree to this, your ass is ours and we will use it any way we please. Think well on this before deciding, but we need your answer immediately. So, focus and examine yourself very candidly. Well, which is it? You have thirty seconds to choose what to do about your situation,” the master of the vault announced sternly.



“I’ll stay as a house boi,” Justin accepted his fate.



“Very good. I thought so. You struck me as being a bottom. Very well. Get back into position beside Heather and give the guys another choice for their initial fuck. The rest of you, let’s not waste time here. You, what’s your name, lad?” the dungeon master continued with the names.



By the time we had finished, both Heather and Justin were well-fucked. Her cunt was still the most popular option, but each of their asses certainly had their share of traffic from hard cocks using them. Mouths were apparently off-limits, but it didn’t matter. Most guys just wanted to fuck.



I could see the boss watching them all closely, determining which guys would or wouldn’t make the cut. He seemed to prize aggression and reinforcement above most other traits on display. If a guy was just there to screw, as with most of them, he was eliminated. These guys were directed to another room, from which most of them returned more than a little drowsy.



One lad, however, was quickly dressed, blindfolded, and frog-marched somewhere I didn’t see. I could guess, however, though I wouldn’t tell the others. He would be to some dominant woman or female institution what Justin was to us, a house boi, only to the ladies instead of the gentlemen. This was what happened to straight male slaves, I assumed.



“Alright, boys, that’s enough of Day One of your initiation. We’ve begun to separate the men from the boys. There is much more to come, but it’s time to hit the showers and clean up. This was sweaty work for all involved. Hurry up with it, of course, as breakfast is in a half-hour. Oh, and rule five: there is no shower privacy. Masters, pledges, house sluts, and house boys all bathe together. Heather and the others will be right beside you in the communal shower. They need to get clean in a timely manner, too. Come on, everyone, let’s snap to it,” the strange dungeon guy barked his orders, clearly impatient to get us moving toward the washrooms.



I couldn’t speak for the others, but I was already in Heaven and quite ready to see what else came next. The idea of seeing so much naked skin while I bathed was perhaps a bit distracting, but I could learn to live with it. I even wondered what it would take to buy out the contract for a house slut or house boi, as I had enjoyed fucking both Heather and Justin that much.

Annabel Sarin was a proud and beautiful woman. She had married well at a young age and now spent her time traveling between all her favorite venues in Europe. On this occasion she found herself at Brandauer Castle in Austria where she was the honored guest of the Count and Countess.



The entertainment for the evening was a formal ball which gave her the opportunity to showcase one of her stunning silk gowns. She made her entrance properly, pausing on the landing of the ballroom’s double staircase as she was introduced.



“The Lady Annabel Sarin of Queensbury!” the stuffy man servant announced to the room.



She descended the stairs with finished dignity, her chin held high as she acknowledged the looks of admiration directed at her with subtle nods. She wore a wig that was so intricate it could more rightly be considered architecture and her large eyes were made even more striking by artfully applied black mascara. The Count and Countess quickly introduced her to several of their high born guests who were immediately charmed by her regal bearing and engaging physical beauty. She floated from one group to another before the orchestra opened with The Blue Danube and the Count had the honor of leading the waltz with her as his partner. They glided over the floor like figures in a music box and at the end of the dance the Count bowed deeply before releasing her hand. And so this evening proceeded like all of Annabel Sarin’s evenings proceeded, with perfect graciousness.



But unbeknownst to her at that time, Lady Sarin was being watched by unseen eyes.



After the ball Lady Sarin returned to her room with the satisfied feeling she always had after social events of this kind. She freed herself from her layers of finery and then popped open her corset which allowed her large breasts and voluptuous belly to finally breathe. After her long bloomers were also shed, she squatted down naked over the chamber pot in the center of the room and released a deluge of hot urine into it, filling it almost to the brim. Her body had God-given health and firmness and she had no need for rear attachments to her corsetry since her buttocks naturally protruded quite prominently.



She walked to the basin and soaped her hands, washing her face before moving the lather over her breasts and underarms. Finally she washed her overgrown crotch and then rinsed herself methodically with the sponge.



Then she did a series of exercise moves she had seen in one of the new physical culture magazines. She spread her legs and bent over to touch her toes left hand to right foot and visa versa. Then with her legs still spread she squatted down and shifted her body deeply from side to side like a speed skater.



It was then she became aware of a thumping noise coming from behind the wall opposite the bed. She stopped in mid stretch to listen. The sound stopped as well. She continued with her bent over stretches again and the sound returned. She stopped a second time and the sound ceased again. She walked over to the wall and listened, but heard nothing.



Having been made somewhat uneasy by the mysterious noises, she decided to put on her night gown and go to bed. But after she turned off the lamps and got between the cool sheets of the canopy bed, she lay awake with the lingering feeling that there was something amiss in the castle.



The next morning she by chance saw a strange little man in the hallway on her way to breakfast. He leered at her in a way that made her sick. It appeared that he was one of the workers there so she followed proper etiquette and overlooked the perceived offense. However after returning that day from a trip into the countryside with her hosts she encountered the man again, leering as he had before. She decided to chide him for his rudeness.



“Excuse me sir, but I do take offense with the way you look towards me!” she announced to him.



The little man leered all the more as she spoke to him. Then he replied.



“I’m sorry, my lady, I’ve just never seen anyone as beautiful as you before.” he replied, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.



“Well could you in the future avoid eye contact with me please!” she commanded.



“Yes, my lady,” he replied, his eyes still devouring her.



In the days that followed she had the feeling his eyes were on her wherever she went. They were eyes that saw through to her nakedness no matter how many layers she wore. They spoke of indecency and foul deeds and she couldn’t seem to wash their dirty intent off of her. That evening she had a dream that a man entered her bed with stinking breath and cold hands. He clung to her from behind until she was able to push him off. That’s when she saw it was the little man with the carnivorous eyes.



The next morning she awoke to the same thumping sound coming from behind the wall. Then when she looked down she saw her bed covers had shifted away exposing her naked legs. The thumping sound increased in frequency and urgency and then trailed off just as quickly. Annabel had had enough. She put on her robe, went out into the hall and knocked on the door of the neighboring guest room. After quite some time a tall, handsome man answered.



“Good morning, sir,” she said with more than a hint of indignity, “My name is Lady Annabel Sarin and I was wondering if you know anything about the knocking sound that is coming from the wall between our rooms?”



The man paused in thought briefly before a flash of recognition broke over his face.



“Yes, I have heard a knocking sound as well!” he answered earnestly.



“You have?!” she replied with relief, “Well at least I’m not going mad!”



“No madam,” he continued, “these old castles unfortunately do have vermin that run about within the walls.”



The thought of vermin scurrying about inside the walls disgusted her, but not as much as the thought of being watched by that little man. Her regal smile returned.



“That does seem to make sense,” she laughingly agreed, “even if it is a bit disquieting.”



“My name is Baron Von Chesler and I am more than glad to be at your service Lady Sarin if you need any further assistance.” he pronounced with a slight bow of his head.



“Thank you, kind sir.” she replied, “I won’t hesitate.”



She returned to her room feeling a bit foolish but somewhat more self-assured. Rats could make thumping noises, especially if they were mating, she concluded. But she quickly pushed that disgusting thought out of her mind. She was a lady and people in her station didn’t recognize such vile things. She determined to tell the chamber maid about it when she saw her next.



That afternoon as they played croquet on the back lawn, Annabel thought she saw a dark figure moving behind one of the parapets of the castle. Was it the strange little man again, she wondered? When she reported the sighting to a fellow guest at dinner, the bejeweled woman related the sad tale of the Count’s brother, Klaus, who had returned from the last war a broken man. His mental illness had soon progressed to full blown insanity and the family was forced to confine him to one of the upper bastions on the property.



“It was the Count’s mad brother that you probably saw on the parapet, Lady Sarin.” the woman asserted.



Annabel Sarin listened to the story intently. It seemed to explain all the feelings and phenomena she’d been experiencing since her arrival. There was indeed madness and malevolence afoot in this castle.



Later in the evening as she climbed the side stairs to her room the strange little man appeared again and tried to stop her at the landing. She retreated but he continued to advance, his hands held out, saying he had something to tell her. Lady Sarin could see nothing but those vulture eyes coming at her. When she realized she could retreat no further, she unleashed a kick to the little man’s groin that stopped him in his tracks. His face registered shock at first, but then he seemed to grin again and continue. Annabel Sarin then drove home a second kick to the man’s crotch that had such force it seemed to lift him up off the ground slightly. After this kick the little man’s vulture smile turned to nausea and he involuntarily vomited on the spot. As he stood there doubled over, she slid along the wall until she was clear of him and then ran up the stairs to her room.



She decided then and there she would make her apologies and leave the next day. She also decided to keep this incident to herself since she had had several similar experiences dealing with degenerates like this. The best course for a lady like herself was to “defend and pretend”.



Then a knock on the door made her jump.



“Lady Sarin?” came a familiar sounding voice.



She opened the door and was relieved to see the handsome face of the Baron smiling down on her.



“Baron Von Chesler! It is indeed a pleasure to see you!” she said with a flood of relief.



“The pleasure is entirely mine. Would you care to join me for a cup of tea in the pallor?” he proposed.



“Yes, I’d be agreeable to that.” she replied.



The Baron waited outside the door while Lady Sarin grabbed her wrap and red velvet clutch. Then they continued down to the pallor where they were seated and served. The Baron spoke proudly of his family’s gallant exploits in several wars and rebellions and then shifted the topic to Lady Sarin’s personal life.



“So I understand you’re married to Sir Robert Sarin.” he inquired.



“Why yes I am.” she replied, “Do you know my husband?”



“I know of him. He was a peer of my father’s.” he continued, “So tell me, what’s it like to be married to a man so much older than yourself?”



The question was pushing the boundaries of politeness.



“Well, I get the benefit of his wisdom.” she countered slyly.



“A beautiful woman like you can have her choice of men.” he added.



Now she was beginning to sense the Baron’s questions had an agenda.



“Yes, and I’ve made my selection quite well, I believe.” she finally parried with a smile.



However, after the Baron poured her second cup of tea, Lady Sarin developed a headache. A few sips later she began to feel dizzy.



“My dear Baron, you’ll have to forgive me, I should be getting back to my room now. I don’t quite feel myself.” she announced.



“Let me assist you Lady Sarin!” the baron volunteered.



He stood and helped her out of the pallor into the foyer. But when they arrived at the stairs he guided her down instead of up.



“Where are we going?” she asked, already growing weak.



“Down to the infirmary. You seem to be ill.” he said with concern.



They went down one flight of stairs and then another into the dank and dark recesses of the stone fortress. Somewhere along the way Lady Sarin lost consciousness and Baron Von Chesler was forced to gather her up and carry her in a bundle. At the second subterranean level he brought her down a corridor lit by torches to a massive oak and iron door. He kicked it twice and seconds later the door opened. He walked into the cavernous room with vaulted ceilings and laid Annabel Sarin’s body down on what appeared to be a wooden alter. He spoke to the thing standing in the shadows that had opened the door.



“Come my friend and see the woman of your dreams!” he called to him.



The flickering lights in the chamber danced upon Lady Sarin’s stunning features as she lay unconscious on the table. The Baron stood over her proudly, his eyes suddenly wild and hungry. Then the figure in the shadows emerged. He was cloaked and hooded and laughed to himself as he moved towards her. When he arrived at the alter the light illuminated part of his grotesquely scarred face. His mouth was pulled down on one side and one eye seemingly hung loose in its socket. He ran his crooked hands over her satin garments trying to get an idea of the flesh that lie beneath.



“Never fear, my friend,” said the Baron knowingly, “her body makes these fine textiles appear as rags!” They began to look for a way to remove her multi-layered evening dress and were completely frustrated until the thing produced a long knife and began to cut at the garment. Soon they had ripped the dress off of her shoulders and removed it completely. Then her petticoats were cut off with several long strokes exposing her naked arms and upper chest and also her shapely, stocking-covered legs.



They saw that she was indeed a Victorian dream as she lay there with her secret body partially exposed to them. They stood there and stroked her forbidden undergarments and skin like amazed and greedy little boys. The thing began to rub at his titillated cock as his other hand worked its way down her inner thigh as the Baron ran his fingers over her parted mouth, quivering with the thought of his cock penetrating its depths. She was fully theirs now and all of the pretense of fashion and society would soon be stripped away. They saw her as the animal she really was, with all her earthy sexuality rising like heat waves. As far as they were concerned beauty had to be fucked just like enemies had to be killed.



The bursting force of her curvaceous body against her imprisoning corset created unbearable tension in their minds, so they roughly tore at the strings of it as if cutting open a parcel. Soon the gifts inside the bound package fell out freely into their hands. The Baron closed his eyes and drew in the sweet smell of her lavender body as his fingers clamped down tightly around her full, supple breasts through her chemise. The thing put his nose to the crotch of her short bloomers and then tugged them down, revealing her bountiful untended garden. He spied the rose pedal of her labia only barely amid the dark, hairy thicket.



Then they secured her arms over her head to the table and pulled her legs up and wide, strapping them from the under knee to the table sides. She was a piece of prime rib ready to be mounted and devoured now.



“Now my friend, we will wait for Lady Sarin to awaken so she understands the full horror and hopelessness of her situation!” the Baron announced to the thing.



The hooded fiend snickered at the idea.



As they waited the Baron dropped his pants and dry stroked himself as he explored the pussy of his subject with his finger. He shuttered as he felt the tension of her vagina around his digit, imagining how it would feel around his surging cock. She was quite wet, as he was sure she always was.



Then he heard her begin to mutter and move her head.



“Now Klaus!” he called out, “Mount her now!”



The thing stripped himself of his cloak and hood and climbed atop the table. His body was filthy and misshapen but his prick was huge and ready. He got himself inside with a little bit of effort and then buried himself to his balls in her. He began to pump her vigorously as he gazed down at the beautiful line of her captive arms framing her confused face. She was still only partially conscious and in this state she could not fully differentiate between fantasy and reality. She moaned slightly and continued to make small cooing sounds as the thing humped her unknowing hole.



The Baron saw his opportunity to have his cock sucked then and positioned himself on the table to feed it to her. She took his member into her mouth like an old friend and sucked the length of it. Watching his cock being consumed by her beautiful face proved to be more than the Baron could take and he soon was forced to release his load onto her forehead and up into her wavy, auburn hair.



But no sooner had he climbed down from the table then she began to speak.



“What’s going on here?” she questioned groggily.



The fiendish thing on top of her smiled gruesomely as he saw the horrific moment of recognition in her eyes. She looked down at herself and then up into the face of twisted lechery. Then she let out an ear-deafening scream that only seemed to excite the thing more. He began to grunt and chuckle as she pulled at the straps and screamed in stark terror. Her mind wanted to believe this was a nightmare, but her body told her differently. She didn’t even notice the Baron standing off to one side stroking himself. She could only process the savage act being committed against her, the sight of it, the smell of it.



But then over her screams she heard the sound of the massive door creaking open. She turned and saw the strange little man burst in, sword in hand. Perhaps this was a dream, she thought. He quickly ran down the steps and stabbed the fiendish thing in the back as it continued to defile her. The thing let out an ear-splitting groan of agony as he drove the sword into its back a second time. Finally the fiend was forced to climb off of her and retreat, stumbling back into one of the dark corners of the chamber. The Baron then tried to make a break for the door but the little man blocked his way and drove him back.



“Untie her!” he shouted at him, pushing him back towards the alter.



The Baron, still naked from the waist down, quickly complied and released the straps that held Lady Sarin. She jumped down and ran to collect her clothes.



“Now get on that table!” the little man ordered.



“My good man,” the Baron complained, “Do you know who I am!”



“Yes, you’re the guy who’s going to get fucked in the ass!” the little man countered, “Get on the table!”



When he heard the force of the little man’s command, the Baron relented and laid down on the alter.



“On your stomach!” came the next order from the sword wielding little man.



Annabel Sarin was back in her bloomers by now and was crouched against the wall shivering.



“Lady Sarin, can you bind his arms and legs?”



“Yes.” she replied weakly.



Soon the Baron was strapped down well and the little man found the fiend and brought him back bleeding at sword point.



“You wanted to fuck something! You can fuck him!” the little man said to the fiend, “Get up there!”



The fiend shook his head and the little man stabbed him in the leg. That was all the motivation the thing needed. He climbed up onto the Baron and pushed his massive meat into his rectum.



“My god! You can’t do this! Get him off me!” the Baron yelled.



The fiend continued where he had left off, plowing away at the random hole.



“Faster!” the little man ordered, slapping the fiend’s ass with his sword.



The fiend went faster as the blood poured out from his wounds, but just before he collapsed and died there was a brief cry of pleasure that issued from him. Then all was quiet.



“Are you ready to go, Lady Sarin?” the little man asked.



She nodded absently.



They then proceeded up the steps with the remnants of her clothes as the Baron screamed after them.



“It was all his idea! He made me do it! You must believe me! Please don’t leave me here!” he begged from beneath the dead body of the creature.



His words had no effect on them. They exited the chamber without looking back, the massive door swinging closed behind them.



The next morning Annabel Sarin awoke covered in sweat, not sure if her experience the night before had been but a lucid dream. Her night gown was soaked as well. She removed the article of clothing and summoned the chambermaid. A bath was drawn for her and soon her body was swallowed and caressed by the tepid water. She examined her breasts and legs and noticed the lacerations as she moved the sponge over herself. Dreams didn’t leave marks, she reasoned.



So it had all been real. The horrible creature had actually assaulted her and then been forced to sodomize the Baron before it died in agony itself. And the little vulture-eyed man whom she had despised had turned out to be her savior! None of it could be any stranger. She pushed the water deep into her vagina with her fingers and as she did she realized she was still shaking.



So what would happen now, she wondered? The fiend and the Baron would be found eventually by some castle servant, mummified agony frozen on the faces of their corpses. Perhaps the Baron was even still alive beneath the body of the thing, preying for a single glimmer of light to enter the chamber once more. But that was not her concern now, she finally concluded. She would leave and go back to her privileged life and forget the entire wretched affair. But first there was a man she needed to thank.

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