My phone buzzed, a message received.
“Are you interested in a special offer, this weekend only? Double bondassage?”
A couple of months previously I had enjoyed a bondassage session with Rebecca, and the idea of two goddesses brought an immediate throb to the base of my belly. It turned out that R had a colleague visiting for an expo over the weekend, and some teaching was proposed.
The two women needed a willing participant, and I was thought about. I felt honoured, and arrangements were made.
I arrived ten minutes early and sat in a park just up the road from R’s house, and contemplated the sun and the grass and oddly, the playground nearby. I was to be their playground, for I would be helpless and lightly captive, safely captive, at their beck and call. I would have a voice, but no eyes and no hands, and they would chain and unchain me.
For all I knew, they could tie me to a table and go to the nearest cafe for an hour or two. I would have no choice but to trust the kindness of strangers, the kindness of two women. One I had met a few times before, the other a complete stranger to me, and me to her.
There she was now. Down the road a small car pulled up, and a tall woman pushed the door shut quietly in the suburban street, then walked across the road and up the drive, a wheeled bag rattling behind her. Just a woman of indeterminate age, for she was at a distance, and in her casual clothes, so I could not tell.
In the bag, then, a costume? For that would be a part of the tableaux, a costume or a uniform, symbolic perhaps, or lingerie. We males are simple souls, usually, and respond easily to cues.
I walked to the front door, a suit but no tie, comfortable. Rebecca, I knew, was practised at quickly setting an ease, a mood; but today there would be an unknown dynamic in the room. For the new woman was the lioness of this pride, the alpha female, and R was to learn.
Where did that place me? I wondered. I suspected I would be taught a new place, but would I learn? I wondered.
“Come in A, come in, welcome.” I was greeted by Rebecca, a voluptuous woman somewhere in her forties I would guess, smiling blue eyes, dark shoulder length hair. She wore a black corset, her breasts spilling from the cups, soft. Her corset was matched with a short skirt, stockings and suspenders. Her figure was soft and full, and she expressed a homely sexuality, comfortable and open.
There was something of a mystic witch about her, perhaps, or playing at that role anyway. But how sophisticated, really? I wasn’t sure. But who was I to judge? How sophisticated was I?
We were alone in the front room of the house, simply furnished, three chairs at a small round table. I could hear movement down the hall, so the new woman was going to make an entrance, then. R sat, and crossed her legs in front of me, her spreading skirt rising on her thighs, softly rounded. She gestured to me to sit in the middle chair, and I took off my jacket and draped it over the back of the chair, and I was waiting. This was new.
“Mistress Electra will be with us in a moment.” So there would be a performance and an entrance, Electra is a stage name, surely. I heard a slow click of heals on the tiled floor, and slowly turned my head to see the newcomer walk into the room, pausing at the door, an ever so slight pose for her audience to see – hand casually placed against the wall, one leg poised ahead of the other. A pose then, an actress. So the room had a veil of theatre now, and was I an actor or a prop?
“A, this is Mistress Electra,” Rebecca did the introductions, but I could see that she was the hand maiden here. For the mistress was a woman who graced and placed her presence in a room, you knew she was there even without looking. But looking, ah, this for me was indeed a newness.
If I was to see her in the street I might glance and, depending how she was dressed, might look longer. This girl, woman, I could not yet judge her age as she was in shadow, was fuller than my usual taste (which is, I have found, for slighter, finer women). Electra, as she came on into the room, was commanding. I stood for her, and kissed the back of the offered hand. It was a pretence, and we were pretending, it was staged, but the room was now a stage. Here indeed, was a piece of theatre.
“Good afternoon, A, welcome to my den.” Her voice was clear, articulated, a slight accent that I could not place. From this country, but another state. She had already taken over R’s territory and claimed her place. Electra was tall, and in her black heels, looked me straight in the eye, and I am six foot.
Her flesh was full and firm, solid but not muscled and not fat, legs long and shapely, a pearl white band of flesh between black stockings and tight cream hot pants, tight on her ass. Her belly was softly rounded beneath a transparent blouse, showing a black bra pushing up big breasts, a long cleavage between. The only word for her breasts was “magnificent”. Mistress Electra was a splendid figure.
She took her seat, and with her attitude, it was a throne. So there I was, between the comely Rebecca and the magnificent Electra, knowing that I was being measured and assessed. Electra told me something of herself (and later, I would investigate her on line persona, and discovered she was indeed a revered presence in several scenes in this country, so I was indeed privileged). But I did not know that, not yet.
As we talked, I found it hard not to take my eyes off her, and I wondered if Rebecca noticed that I was not paying her equal attention. Here indeed was a show woman and a diva, and serious in her art. It now became evident that she was mature and knowing, no longer a girl, a girl no longer.
Slowly the conversation worked around to the time ahead. We established a set of safe words, but I knew that this was just a formality – bondassage was low key and safe, and I was prepared to place myself in their hands. Whilst I would be captive, I would not be out of my comfort zone.
Electra then asked if I had done cock and ball play before, and other than a simple binding from Rebecca another time, my answer was no. The frisson in the room changed up a notch at that point, and I became conscious of my heart beat for the first time. I was placing myself into their hands, and word by word, and step by step, I was surrendering to their will.
Rebecca led me to the bathroom, where I took a relaxing and cleansing shower, hot and stinging, alerting my skin. I swirled a scented lotion over my body, legs, paying special attention to my cock, ass and balls. I made sure I had a nice heft on my cock, but no need for hardness just yet. My cock has a pleasing straight hang, uncut, and a nice length. I was comfortable in my nakedness.
“I am ready,” I called out, as instructed.
“Do not come out until I say,” replied Rebecca, her voice nearby.
A silence of ten heart beats. “Now you may come out. Take three steps forward and then stop. Do not speak.”
I stepped into the corridor, and as Rebecca moved from behind me, she swung a slap of her hand onto my bare ass cheek, snap. She walked down the corridor, her curved ass swinging above her heels, then stepped to one side, and turned and faced me.
“Put your hands on top of your head,” commanded Electra, “let us see you.”
The mistress moved to the end of the corridor, just a silhouette, and stood, her hands on her hips, her hair piled up high in a tight chignon. The light was behind her, so I could not see her face. Now I was scrutinised.
“You’re right, Rebecca, he has a promising length, as you have said. Turn around, let me see you from behind.”
I turned, and there was a silence, and then a step.
“Go to the room, and stand, hands by your sides. Face the couch.”
I did as instructed, and in the room was a table, centred there, and a couch against one wall. I stood, my hands by the sides of my thighs, my cock soft and hanging. Both women entered the room and sat, side by side, on the couch, my cock just below the line of their gaze. I felt it thicken some, and my balls shifted.
Electra ran one finger down my belly from my navel and down my thigh, the edge of her finger brushing my thickening weight.
“That’s rather nice, that you respond like that to just a touch.” Electra stood, and moved behind me.
“Close your eyes, spread your feet a foot apart, to keep your balance when your eyes are closed. But don’t move.”
I heard a rustle, and Rebecca was before me, her hands upon my chest and stroking my belly and my arms. Behind me, I felt the touch of Electra to my back, her thigh pressing to the back of mine, and her hands over my ass cheeks, my thighs, and over the top of my back.
Damn, they were slow and insistent, their hands a butterfly touch on my skin. Goose bumps sprung on my arms, and my breath caught. For a slow five minutes I relaxed into their caresses, and there was silence in the room, just breath. I felt and sensed that they were both breathing in together and out, slowly paced, and I slowed my breathing to match theirs.
Their fingers would slide over my skin and my breath would catch and become more ragged than theirs. At one stage, and already time was losing itself, they both pushed their bodies to mine, and I was sandwiched between their warm skin. Rebecca was softer, and because she was not so tall, her soft breasts were warm against the top of my belly.
Electra, taller behind me, her hard breasts were firm against my back, and she pushed her thigh against mine. I could feel the push of her flesh against my thigh and her breasts against my back. Her breath slow on my neck.
Electra’s slow fingers reached between my legs and finger nails grazed the back of my balls, riding higher and tighter now. An ever so light graze over my ass hole and the slightest push there. A hand now lifted the weight of my cock which was thickening and hardening, tightening up to its erect length. The hand gripped my shaft and I was held by one of the women.
Now I cannot tell who is standing where, and which hand belongs to which woman. But it no longer mattered, for they were both becoming concentrated essence of woman. One of my nipples was pinched, tight and pointed, and a throb connected to the base of my prick.
“Do you have the rope?” Electra asked R.
“You may open your eyes and look down,” she could just be bothered to address me, so I was becoming her play thing, a toy.
My cock was held gently in her hand, short red nails curved along the shaft of me, the centre of my hardness in her palm. She squeezed, and I pulsed back. Her face was close to mine, and her eyes smiled as she felt the movement. She gripped again, but this time she held my erect cock away from my belly, and with a slow curl of her other hand, she grasped my balls in their tight sac, and pulled them down away from my body.
“There, placed the rope over the base of his cock, against his belly. Run one cord down under his balls, and loop one side around the opposite ball. That’s right, loop it about, and do the same on the other side. See how the rope keeps his balls away from his body now.”
Rebecca was handling the rope, but was uncertain with the movements, and cautious with the tightness.
“Try again, you can run the loops tighter. That’s it, see how his balls are separated and pulled away from his body? Good.”
Electra pulled one sac lower. “Is that OK, not too tight?”
“No, that’s a nice pressure, that’s fine,” I replied, fascinated with the vision of my cock strained and hardened, the white coil of rope tugged around, one end in Electra’s hand.
“Good. Your erection is mine now, and you will do as I will.” And with a tug on my tied prick, she turned my cock tied, ball tied body around, until I faced the table.
“Bend over, so your cheek is on the table.”
As I leaned forward I felt the pressure of one foot against mine, forcing my feet a little further apart.
My body was horizontal now, my hands across the table, and my tied cock heavy between my legs. Rebecca pulled my cheeks apart, and I felt cool air on my ass hole. Both her hands grasped my ass firm, and then there was a slap, hard on one cheek. And again. Slap, again, harder this time, both cheeks. My cock bounced, and Electra tugged on the cord. Behave.
On the other side of the table now, Rebecca placed leather straps about my wrists and adjusted them. At my feet, Electra did the same with my ankles, and placed a mask about my eyes, black now and darkness, one less sense. My skin had been awakened by the slaps.
“Lie on the table, face down.” My hard cock was pulled back between my legs, which were spread apart; my feet stretched at the sides of the table, and strapped there. My hands were strapped close to my head, my wrists chained tight against the top corners of the table. I could rotate my hands, but could not extend them more than an inch. The women would be able to place their flesh just out of my reach, and now controlled my touch. Another sense in their control, now.
A collar was strapped around my throat and adjusted so that I could move my neck but always feel the pressure there.
A set of headphones was placed upon my ears, and made comfortable. The music was repetitive and soothing, electronic sounds, chanting or soaring voices. It would rise and drop, setting a pace and a cycle. I did not know it, but the women would follow its rhythms and it would be a part of the isolation. Not silence, but another sense no longer mine.
I could hear their movements in the room, but had lost all sense of direction. I could also hear their voices, but not completely, not when they spoke softly to each other. So parts of me were gone or dulled, and other parts heightened, sensitive.
Ah goodness, four hands massaging me, lotions smooth and scented, one pair of hands moving up one half of my back; while the other pair moved down the other side, pulling my spine and twisting my flesh.
Methodically they covered and caressed my arms and legs, stretching my fingers and my toes, firm hands over the cheeks of my ass and down my thighs. They gave me a deep deep massage and my captive limbs made no difference at this point. I relaxed into their work, and my breath steadied.
Then there was a hot weight of heat on my back, all down my spine, and now the tingling of a small spiked wheel ran over me. There was a small trail of spiking into my flesh, which felt glorious on my muscles and, ah God, a thread of light pain as the sensation ran down the shaft of my cock.
“Don’t stop, more,” I spoke, daring my voice.
And was rewarded by another run of tingling pain as the wheel was rolled the other way up the shaft of my cock and oh yes, over the bud of my asshole. And then the tight focussed pricking was replaced by a fine feathered tickling, and I guessed that a feather or a frond was being lightly teased over my skin, lightly, and touching up a set of goose bumps, it was so light. My breath caught.
I became aware of a presence up by my head, and one of the women, I could not tell who, was leaning over me and running her hands down my back and through my hair. I stretched up my neck, to raise my head into the weight of her hands, and was rewarded by a firmer touch.
I reached out my fingers and, bliss, there was the touch of a warm thigh, which pushed up to my fingers, and she let me run my fingers over the part of her that I could reach. I stretched out the tips of my longest three fingers and she teased away her skin, and then moved it back. I knew it was Electra there, for her skin was tight and firm, whereas Rebecca’s flesh was softer, and I knew it already.
She allowed me to keep touching her thigh with one hand, and her fingers laced through the fingers of my other hand, and there was a gentleness in her touch as we connected through our fingers, me clenching hers, and she responding with a firmness. But then she was gone, her treasure of skin taken from my stretching fingers.
Then nothing, for two seconds, for five seconds. Silence in the room, and my senses heightened, what would be next? And nothing for another five heart beats.
Smack, a firm palm on one ass cheek and then the other, smack smack smack, each one harder harder harder. Involuntarily, I raised up my ass to get closer to the heat of their hands, for there was a rising beating of their hands and then, crack, a tight whip of a paddle or a strap, right across the cheeks of my ass.
Fuck, I had never felt this before, and the slap of pain brought heat to my flesh, and I could feel a redness bloom. Behind the black of the eye mask, I imagined the pattern of red hands on the paleness of my ass.
“Is that OK, is that good?” Electra asked, checking.
“Fuck yes,” I replied, a gutteral depth to my voice, “that stings but it’s good.”
And was rewarded by a laugh and another firm slap to my cheek. Then there was a cool soothing, and a cloth was placed over my ass, the heat of my flesh fighting the cooling of the cold cloth. Between my legs my cock was hard and hot, and one of the women ran her finger along the shaft and the rope was pulled tight. My balls were gripped, and the pressure was delicious.
Now my thighs were gripped and raised up, and a pillow placed under my belly so that my ass was spread higher and wider, exposed to their eyes and touch. One of them pushed my legs wider and lightly teased the insides of my thighs, lightly dancing her fingers along my shaft.
There was a light buzzing, and a small vibrating thing was worked up and down the hot shaft strapped back between my legs, and around my rope tightened balls and oh fuck, I pushed up my ass so that the vibrating pulse could centre on my asshole, and a steady pulsing pressure was applied, and it felt as if my hottest hole was opening up wide like some kind of flower, and the pressure was insistent. It felt as if a heat was being pressed into my tight hole. Damn that felt good, and I groaned, deep in my throat.
“Ah, you like your ass played with, would you like some more?”
“Please, yes, push into me more, please.”
I was starting to plead now, the pleasure was so delicious and I didn’t want them to stop, not just yet. But at the same time, I did want them to stop because that would be their tease, and their control over me, and I wanted to give myself up to them, for my ego to melt in their hands.
I didn’t often play with my own ass, and I forgot how good it could be. And here were two women seeing my open dark hole, pulsing for them, my prick twitching. They could do whatever they wanted to do. It was so liberating, being strapped, my asshole puckering for them.
“I think he might be ready then, do you think?”
I could hear them talking, louder, so I was meant to hear this.
“Get the hook.” Ah yes, the hook, I remembered it from before. A curve of steel, maybe one centimetre in diameter, a straight bit perhaps seven or eight centimetres long, and a curved loop circling round to the other end, a long piece with a loop at the end. The shorter end would be slid into my ass hole, deep into my heat, and the other end linked by a chain and connected to a loop on the strap around my neck.
Cool lubricant was smoothed over my anus, and the push of the hook a steady pressure into me and past the rim of my tight muscle. The point of resistance was past, and my ass tunnel grabbed the thin steel prick and sucked it into me, deep, and I felt the curved loop of the hook cold against the crack between my cheeks.
There was a gentle movement on the hook as a chain was connected to the loop on the long end, and then a pull up my ass passage as the chain was connected to the collar about my neck. So I could control the pull of the steel rod into my depth by stretching out my neck. If I strained my neck forward, the steel finger pulled into me, and if I relaxed my spine and shrank back, the tension of the hook would ease.
So I was able to fuck myself in the ass by stretching my neck forward and back, forward a pull into me, and relax, the hook was less insistent. I went into my own rhythm for perhaps a minute or two, pulling the little fuck into myself. As I did so, my toes were taken into a hot mouth and sucked, and so too my fingers. So I fucked my own asshole lightly, and my fingers and toes were like little pricks into the wet heat of two mouths.
I felt a presence by my head again, and reached my fingers forward, and felt the top of tight thighs moving forward onto my hand, which I rotated now. It was Rebecca, for her crotch was at the height of my fingers, and she let me play beneath her knickers into the warm smoothness of her cunt lips, and she moved back and forth onto my fingers. Her lips were smooth to my limited touch, but when I curled one upwards in a probe and a try, she was content to allow my finger to curve into her cunt, just a little.
“He’s fingering me, the cheeky sod,” she was amused at my audacity, and took a little pleasure there while my finger stretched and pushed into her, just a tiny bit, for my wrists were shackled and I was limited where I could reach.
She moved forward onto my hand some more, and my finger curled into the tight heat of her asshole, just to the knuckle, and I felt the tight rim of her sphincter grip me.
“He’s got the tip of a finger into my ass,” I could just hear Rebecca’s voice announce my progress.
“Well, I suppose that is fair,” proclaimed Electra, “since we have put four inches of steel into his rear!”
I imagined her standing watching, her legs spread and her stance tall and imperial, watching me her plaything with black leather straps at my wrists and ankles; a strap choking my neck and a chain connecting that collar to the end of a steel hook curved into my tightest channel; shining bright steel slicked with lubricant; my cock and balls tied and bulging and richly coloured.
And her apprentice standing at the other end of the table, perhaps with her eyes closed and perhaps with fingers pulling at an exposed nipple while her cunt and asshole were resting and pressing down onto a restrained movement from my fingers. For I could feel a little slickness on the tips of my fingers and a quicker, rhythmic squeeze on the tip of my finger, as her tightest muscle gripped and pulsed me.
Ah, this was a slow build of pressure and ecstasy and surrender, and there was a tightness through my whole body now, and the slow shifting fuck of the metal was arousing nerve endings in my dark channel, and the blood was hot, filling into my rope tied prick and held there. It was if my body was my cock and my cock was my body, huge and heightened and aroused, pleasure swirling from my groin up the line of my spine, and I was making low, involuntary sounds from my throat.
There was a change in the room, as Rebecca eased herself off my fingers, and then there was a silence and, oh what a glorious scent as she placed her cunt wettened fingers to my nose, and brushed the dew of her lips over my lips. Her wettened finger, slick with her own moisture, pressed into my mouth like a small fucking prick, and I swirled my tongue over her taste. Then she was gone.
I felt movement on my neck and a tug on the steel in my ass, and there was a click as the chain was unlatched. Two further clicks, and I could move my hands, for the straps were undone. I reached my arms forward and embraced Rebecca standing at the head of the table, my hands caressing her plump backside, and one hand rubbing up her spine.
My ass pulsed and sucked on the metal hook, but it was slowly removed from my core, and left an emptiness there as the metal was taken away. My ankles were also unstrapped and all of my limbs were free.
“Roll onto your back,” Electra commanded, “and make yourself comfortable.”
A pillow was placed under my head, and the eye mask and the headphones made secure. And then my hands were taken once again and strapped, this time straight by my sides, and shackled again to the table. My feet were spread to the corners of the table and my ankles strapped in place, and I was on my back, secured and helpless, my rope tied cock hard against my belly. There was a silence in the room, and just a rush of waves from the headphones.
Silence and motionless, the two women were still. I had no idea where in the room they were. I did not know if they looked at me with curiosity (what might we do next?); or looked at me with contempt (see how he is trapped and cock risen and helpless); or admiration (look at the fine length and straightness of his cock, tied there).
They might not even be looking at me at all. Silence and stillness. My cock was beating with my heartbeat, so there was movement.
The external silence, beyond the soundtrack from the headphones, broke through and I could hear their voices, just chatting to each other with occasional laugh, and a clatter of instruments on the tray down by my feet. A mouth sucked onto my nipple, and teeth tugged the small tightness erect and firm, fingers rolled my nipple and my prick responded, nerve endings sending and twitching a connection there.
“Look, his cock is connected to his nipples, see how it responds to my pull on his tight tits.”
There was a tight pain, first on one nipple and then the other, and I knew that clamps had been placed on my small erect tips, and would keep them tight. I drew in my breath with a gasp, and then felt a weight between my nipples and a cold band across my chest, and guessed that a chain had been connected between the nipple clamps, and then connected to the rope cooked around my prick.
At some stage a coil of rope had been wrapped around the shaft of my thickened prick, and the chain between my nipples was connected to that rope.
So there was a triangle of connected triggering and response, for each time my cock tightened or throbbed, it would tug on the clamped nipples, and each tug on my nipples would send a twitch to my prick. So a constant circle of tug and tightness was set up, and I could not control it.
There were the four glorious sensitive hands caressing my skin with lotions, wonderfully scented, and a deep massage of my arms and legs and feet. And the centre of my cock and balls and ass hole were avoided, and their massaging hands would deliberately move away from my heat; the teasing bitches but I would not dare say that, for they could remove their attention and deny me.
I was now powerless to these women, and was their thing, their object. Yet they caressed me and cared for me by giving, so I was given to them as a gift and they were taking from me some something. For why would they do this, if it did not bring them their own pleasure?
I knew that Rebecca had taken a little sliver of pleasure from my fingers to her cunt and ass, but Electra was more remote, and had not yet allowed any intimacy with her body. I wondered if she would, or whether her pleasure was from seeing me subject to her desires. It was a curious thing, but she remained remote.
I could hear her telling Rebecca things about reactions, and control and tension and edging and she was clearly an experienced mistress. I suspected that this session was a little tame by her more demanding standards, something I would confirm later when I read of her history as a dungeon mistress.
But then I felt, once again, a presence by my head, and a finger probing my mouth and becoming a little fuck there, my saliva moistening with my suckle on her fingers. I did not know who this was, who was attending to my mouth. And then I did know, for a full nipple was placed into my mouth and the weight of soft breasts was over my face. Rebecca’s tight tipped and full breast was in my mouth, and I had sucked on it before and remembered its taste and feel.
I suckled that weight of breast as far into my mouth as I could, gently nipping on the erect nub of nipple. Her hands stroked down my ribs and over my stomach, as I sucked upon the breast, and then the other one, for R liked both her breasts to be suckled upon, and would offer me each in turn. I imagined warm milk spilling from those tits into my mouth, but that was all in my head.
Once again I felt the turn of the small pricked wheel on that part of my cock that was not coiled in rope, and then its running pain on my balls, which were hard and tight now, and I imagined a rich red or purple as the heated blood was trapped there. As I suckled upon Rebecca’s tits, Electra was paying a delicate attention to my cock and balls, and caressing and pressing around my ass hole.
It felt as if something was deep within me, but it was just a press on my dark channel, with a finger or a toy, perhaps. I could not tell what was being done to me, nor what tools and small, sharp objects were involved.
As I suckled on Rebecca’s full breasts, her nipples tight and hard in my mouth, little sighs of joy just edging over the rising waves on the soundtrack of this pleasure, I felt Electra’s attention focus on my cock and balls and asshole.
My prick felt like a rod of hard iron, constrained as it was by Electra’s rope, and she was now swirling some soft thing about the head of my shaft. I could not tell if it was velvet cloth or the palm of her hand, but it was slow, ecstatically slow, a slow rub around the tip of me. It was almost unbearable, but the mistress bitch knew exactly what pressure to place and what pressure to deny, and I knew that it was pointless to cry out or do anything else but moan low in my throat.
This I think was where Electra got her pleasure, through her total command over her slave’s reaction, her dominion. It was strange, for I would usually consider myself any woman’s equal when it came to giving and receiving pleasure, but because I had elected to surrender myself and place my arms in her chains and my cock in her rope, that paradigm had shifted.
I did not know what she desired, and I was unable to provide it. So I gave myself up to her completely, and had no interest in her pleasure for I could not grant it, and I was expectant of the next sensation on my cock and in my ass, for it felt that she was pressing into me with her finger or with some toy, and I could not tell how wide open my hole was, or if it sucked in some tight thing, or whether it swelled and opened with some big thing.
Rebecca lifted her wet tits from my mouth, and let my fingers caress her thigh as she walked away from the head of the table. I felt a pull on my taut nipples, still clamped, and a sharp pain there, and the chain was taken from my chest. I felt a pull on my cock as the triangle of pull and response was broken. And with a click one of the nipple clamps was removed and I felt a hot tongue suck my breast, and pull that pain tightened nipple into a mouth, and there was a blossoming ease of the pressure as she suckled.
I guessed it was Rebecca reciprocating the suck on my breast just as I had suckled long on hers. The other nipple clamp was removed, and a pair of fingers squeezed a hot soothing sensation onto my tight tipped nip, and her tongue suckled one breast and her fingers gently twisted my other hot peak.
And at the base of the table, Electra unlatched the chains about my ankles and then she climbed upon the table and spread my legs around her waist. So I was splayed and opened for this woman, my ass and my cock central to her hands. My legs were around her, my thighs against her waist.
I felt flesh, so knew that she had taken her blouse off, but my eyes were denied the fullness of her big breasts, and my hands were still strapped by my waist, so I was denied the feel of her smooth skin, and I was denied the weight of her big hard tits in the palms of my hands.
My cock though, was not denied.
“Look Rebecca, see what happens when I unravel the rope. See the rich redness of the head, and watch how its colour changes as the blood flows.”
And, ah God, there was a flow of heat to my prick, and felt it tighten and harden even more than it had been this last what, hour? For I could not tell how long I had been in this state of arousal and denial, but it was longer than any time in my life, I think, this long slow arousal over which I had no control. These beautiful women had built me up and given me such filling pleasure, and still they were not done.
Rebecca continued a gentle suckle on my breast, and my nipples felt huge as she alternately sucked one and bit the other, and pressed the heat of her palm to my chest. And then she moved back to the head of the table, her hands still on my chest and flowing down over my belly.
She stood close to my head and I could scent her sweet cunt, and then she dropped her breast again to my mouth, and I suckled to her. And as I did, Electra started up a slow stroke of my rod, both hands twisting and oh so slowly stroking the shaft of my cock, and a pressing fullness on the open swell of my asshole.
The two women stroked their hands over me, Rebecca’s hands a long slow slide down my sides and over my chest, her tits full and heavy and wet over my face, her nipples hot and hard on my tongue. Electra’s hands were tighter and harder now, slowly stroking my shaft up and down, and fingers grasping my high tight balls.
Slowly the throb started deep in the base of me, a tight coiling and heating at the base of my spine, and my breath was ragged and panting now, and I could not suckle R’s full and heavy breasts any longer, and she lifted them from my mouth. But oh God, then her nipple became a tongue, and as Electra pulled on my long prick, Rebecca started to fuck into my mouth with her tongue, and she too was panting into my mouth as I was pulled on my cock.
My hands stretched and reached only air, and then it must have been Rebecca’s hands reaching down to caress my fingers as her tongue and lips tangled with mine, and our breath tangled and I breathed her in and she breathed me in, and we set up a rhythm of breath, and Electra set up a longer and faster rhythm on my risen prick. And I was between the two women, one a hot wet mouth on my mouth and lips, her hands stroking across my chest and nipples and belly; and Electra sitting between my open and thrusting groin, my legs around her waist.
Oh, oh, my sweet fuck, my cock filled and felt impossibly huge, my ass was pressed and pushed, and I could not tell if there was a finger there, but from the base of my spine I could feel my come boiling and thrusting to the peak of me, and the strokes built me and peaked me, but not yet, ah fuck, not yet, she pulled one more long hand over my shaft and, ah not yet, one more long pull and one more deep push into my ass.
“Rebecca, look, here he is, let’s see…”
A string of come shot from the long depths of my shaft, pulsing over my chest and nipples, a long heat of come like I had not shot since I was a twenty year old, ah fuck yes, pull it from me, tight hands, pull and twist and urge up the long syrup of come. I felt a long pushing fuck into my ass and a pressure deep inside me as she milked my prostrate.
“Let’s see just how much hot cream I can pull from him, his hot long cock. God, I can feel the heat in his cock and in the tight tunnel of his ass. Oh yes, that’s it, hot come for your ladies, give us all of your hot creaming come, oh look at the spurting mess.”
And at my chest, Rebecca creamed the hot fluid from deep in my balls onto my skin with her palms, a gentle rotation of her massaging hands, this time my cream was the moisture and the lotion. At my groin the mistress Electra was slow and gentle with her hands as she held my cock for some five slow minutes, as it softened and coiled in her hands and she held it with a quiet pressure.
My heart uncoiled from its beating tension, and I relaxed into their soothing hands. All I could hear was a low murmur of their voices as together they gave their ministry to my calming body. And I was a sacrament and holy place for their granting hands.
They undid the straps of my wrists and bade me carefully sit up on the table, and one of them took away the dark mask from my eyes and took one of my hands in hers, and there at the end of the table stood Electra, her high full breasts thrust upward in a half cup bra, just the fullness of dark brown nipples half crescents in the cups, her white belly a beautiful rounded curve. So she allowed me to caress her with my eyes, and her eyes were large and dark, a wrinkled laugh at their corners, and a gentle smile on her lips. Even if she was the commanding mistress, she had a warmth and softness about her face.
She turned away and reached for her gossamer blouse, and covered herself. By my side, Rebecca’s skin was blushed and reddened, her breasts full with my suckle and the pull of my mouth on her nipples, and she had given herself some small pleasure as she had peaked and pushed me to a long, slow, langorous ecstasy. My own skin was flushed and warm, soft with the oils and creams, including my own jetting cream.
The two women left me to dress, and a minute or two later I joined them at the small table in the living room. As I sat, there was no indication from them or me that twenty minutes before I had been naked and chained, my cock huge and hard and tied, my asshole red and swollen and open before them. They gave no clue that an hour before I had lain naked before them, their hard hands spanking the bare cheeks of my ass. No clue, but there was the knowledge of my openness and surrender. It was a strange thing, but I had been their playground, for just a short time.
As I left them, a firm body hug from each of them in turn and a warm tongue kiss from Rebecca, I didn’t look back. I didn’t look down, but saw the leaves in the trees above my head, and the blue sky, and the clouds. I felt more alive than I had for a very long time.
When I got back to my car, I looked at the dash clock, and realised that this kindness of women had given up nearly two and a half hours of themselves to me. Damn, that was special.
It’s good to be alive when there are people in the world willing to take you to a special place.
Go there, give yourself up to the kindness of women.