Gemini Heat (25 page)

She moaned. She couldn't help it. When he touched her there, she felt a grubby but irresistible rush of pleasure. A mad craving for things that were vile but which made her poor wet quim pulse and weep. Her bonds held her tight but she tried to wriggle, tried to entice him even though she hated her miserable, slutty self for doing it.

'I've got just the thing.' Deana heard Vida move away then return. Jake laughed.

'My darling Vida, you're outrageous!' he said, but Deana sensed his almost boyish excitement and felt dread herself at the thought of what that 'thing' might be.

'Do you think it'll go in?' his finger wiggled slightly in its niche, 'she's very tight. I wouldn't want to damage her.'

'It'll go in,' said Vida confidently, 'I've had one in me before now . . . It's easy when you use lots of cold cream.'

Jake chuckled, and Deana sensed him shaking his dark head in disbelief at Vida's sex-crazed exploits.

What is it? Deana thought wildly. This thing they're going to put into me. It must be a dildo or something. A vibrator. But then, as she heard Jake pouring out more champagne, she
knew
what it was. The wicked naughty thing they were going to put in her body, the thing they were going to
cork
her with.

Bentley was ordered to bring cold cream and a few seconds later, Deana felt the stuff being plastered on and into her bottom, then pushed inside in dollops, its texture thick and heavy.

'Hold her open,' instructed Vida.

Deana felt fingertips settle on the inner curves of her buttocks, pulling gently but firmly, then
it
was against her . . . The thing . . . The champagne cork, unbelievably fat and unyielding as they began its outrageous insertion, rocking it this way and that to gain entry to her untried opening.

'Oooh! Oh no!' she whimpered, as horrifying sensations assaulted her. She'd sworn to be brave and silent, but this was so much more than she'd expected. She keened and whimpered and shook her head, but still they persisted. After a few moments, Jake came around to the front of the beam - presumably leaving Bentley to help Vida - and crouched down, beautiful and almost naked, to comfort Deana through her trials and torments.

'Easy . . . Easy, sweetheart,' he whispered, stroking her face with his fingers and lifting her hair back out of her eyes. 'Relax. It's only your mind saying it feels bad. Years and years of people telling you it's wicked and dirty to take pleasure in your bottom . . .' He started kissing her then, sucking and licking delicately at her lips, nibbling and coaxing, then poking in with his tongue in the same rocking rhythm that Vida was using on her bottom.

Deana groaned into his mouth. It didn't matter what he was telling her, the sensations were too strange. Her sex was throbbing and leaping and rippling, almost climaxing with dark, forbidden pleasure. As the cork finally popped into her and lodged there, she had an orgasm of sharp and painful intensity, jerking herself viciously in her bonds and crying out like a wounded animal as Jake's mouth slid away from hers.

When she regained the use of her senses, he was standing up in front of her. The leather G-string had succumbed to the pure hard force of his erection, and his penis was pointing out above it, an obscene limb of ruddy blood-filled flesh that stood proud from his flat brown belly. In spite of her bonds and her shaming, or maybe, in a strange way, because of them, Deana felt a great longing urge to suck him. Ignoring the dangerous churn of her bowels, she strained forward as far as she could, stretching her neck and tilting her head at an awkward angle in an attempt to get his penis in her mouth.

'Just one little suck then,' intoned the smooth, arch voice of Vida, as if from a thousand miles away. And as Jake tilted his hips, flexed his thighs, and flaunted his sex at her face, Deana craned forward the last few muscle-cracking millimetres and took his fat red glans between her lips.

His taste was sublime, strong and salty, heavy with the semen of his earlier hidden climax, and sharp with the fresh, precursive juice that was now flowing freely. Deana suckled him like a starving baby, using her tongue as best she could with her neck held out at such a steep, uncomfortable angle.

But just as she heard him start to moan slightly her solace was cruelly denied her. Jake stepped back and as his swollen tip slid out of her mouth, he patted her on the head like a master rewarding a faithful but rather dim hound. She sobbed loudly, her vows to be silent and stoic all forgotten.

Jake was behind her now, she sensed, standing with

Vida, and they were looking at the disgusting display of a champagne cork jammed in a shackled woman's bottom.

'Look at that, Kazuto,' Vida murmured, and Deana heard small sticky movements, then realized that Jake was being masturbated, just inches from her own insulted body. 'Isn't she exquisite?
Premier cul,
I'd say,' her tormentress went on, just touching the delicate and cruelly stretched skin around the wine cork.

Deana moaned and squirmed, hideously aroused again, and through the same peculiar 'distancing' heard Jake gasp in pure male suffering. 'Oh God, it's no good! I'll have to have her!'

Strong hands took hold of Deana's hips and tilted them, and at almost the same instant, something bulbous and silky butted rudely at the entrance to her vagina. With a rough uncoordinated thrust, he slid into her, then just stayed there; the thick, fat column of his cock lying parallel to the plug in her rectum.

Even in stillness the sensations were appalling. She was completely stuffed, completely stretched, her intimate orifices sealed and jumping, yet sending electric messages to the outposts of her much-abused body. Her nipples felt like aching stones, and her clitoris, pushed out by the obstructions within her, was so hot and swollen that she truly believed it might burst.

'I can't ... I can't . . .' she whimpered, her voice rising to an animal scream as Jake began pumping inside her. There was too much. The cork was too big.
He
was too big. Her belly was going to explode, the pressures in her body were too great.

As her breath went out of her and her wild cry faded, her final apperture was filled. 'Suck,' ordered Vida quietly, pushing three stiffened fingers into Deana's gaping mouth.

Delirious, Deana saw fire behind her tightly closed eyes. She was just a thing now. A body. Their toy more completely than she'd ever imagined, her mouth and her bottom sealed at their whim while Jake's penis slammed remorsely at her sex. He was shouting, she realised, wishing that she could. He was calling out obscene gibberish as he raced towards a high new climax: his second of the night and his first in the confines of her flesh. He was going to flood her any second now, just as she was flooding him with her juices, and wetting her thighs with the small spurts of urine that were being released without control from her bladder. As she realised she was peeing, she sobbed out piteously . . . but not wholly from a feeling of disgust.

To wee herself was the very nadir of sensation, yet the raw, hot dirtiness of the act seemed to excite her shackled body even more. A great wrench of pleasure rushed crazily through the entirety of her loins - clitoris, labia, bladder and rectum - and centred in her vagina to grab at Jake's fast moving cock. And as
she
came,
he
let out a long male cry of release, and bored right into the very core of her.

As Jake finished, he pulled out quickly, and Deana felt him sway once and heavily against her then stagger almost drunkenly away. When her lips were set free by Vida she cried out, bereft with the loss of him, but also registering astonishment and wonder. He'd come, and come hard, but he was still thinking. Somewhere in the heart of his orgasm was consideration and tenderness. He could've slumped his full dead weight upon her and lain there to recover - but he hadn't. She could hear him behind her, panting, gulping in air, as devastated by the whole act as she was.

She could also sense him being supported and comforted by Vida; being assisted onto the
chaise
by his fellow dominant, while she, the submissive, the object, was left hanging across the bar, discarded. Her body was still encased in the hot leather corset and its strong, hard grip sustained her. Still stretched and secured, her rear still plugged by the wine-cork, she was a sorry mess of sweat and fluids. Jake's semen, her own juice and her urine . . .

And yet against all that was reasonable and understandable, she felt exalted. Her spirit was flying and she could've lived in her bondage forever; content to exist only and indefinitely as a living receptacle of pleasure. An open, available body just waiting to serve Jake and his hungers . . .

How beautiful she looked. How magnificent, how fine and how strong. She was shackled hand and foot, stretched tight across a bar, but even so, she'd risen up and beaten him. He could hardly believe it. Hardly believe the pleasure she'd just given him.

Jake lay motionless on the
chaise,
steadying his breathing and his heart, his bleary eyes still locked on the fabulous young woman he'd just screwed. His Dee. His proud, amazing Dee. She was a sobbing mess, but inside her was a steel-hard core that no-one would ever break, bow or bend. Least of all him.

He'd try though, he swore that now, even though he already knew full well that he'd fail. He'd take her and push her to the limit, and they'd both touch heaven in the process. The thought of how it might be made him harden slightly, even though he'd just had an orgasm, even though his penis felt wrecked.

As the blood began to mass in his groin, he wanted to take her again, immediately. Have his legs rendered boneless by her writhings and her groans, and his spirit destroyed by the power of her. She was stronger even than Vida, he realised now. And that was something he'd not thought possible. He was deeply devoted to his wild literary lady, and he knew he always would be in one way or another. But here was a woman who could match and surpass her. A woman who could fit like the last piece of a jigsaw into both Vida's life and his. The idea made his cock itch with lust and rear up like a foolhardy warrior who'd already fought a huge losing battle . . .

As he watched her, he saw juices trickle down her thigh, and he wanted to leap off the
chaise,
run across the room and stroke her. He felt an intense urge to rub her bottom and her breasts, to kneel down and lick the fluid off her legs. But he knew that to do such things would reveal how much she affected him. She'd feel his trembling, know how weak and at risk she could make him. And it was still too soon for her to have that knowledge. The game had just started and there were many strange levels yet to travel. . .

She still had to be humbled, here, tonight. Feel the love-pain of a beating, feel the pleasure of it, be shown the depths of pure shame.

These ideas of degradation made him focus on her bottom and its plug. Her puckered flesh was stretched out quite smooth around it, and he imagined how that same sweet hole would feel if it were gloved around him. For his part - and for his penis - it would be ecstasy. So tight and hot. Hotter with her than with any other woman ... He considered then how she might react, and his cock lurched up to full erection.

Jake was no stranger to the rude extremes of the anus. To being plugged and screwed and all the while feeling scareder and scareder of disgrace. To feeling the wild, wicked surgings in the bowel, the grim, dirty terror that switched in an instant to pure, unbelievable pleasure. He knew that if he took her arse, Dee's experience would not be the same as his had been -when he'd been buggered himself - but there were some elements that would be common to both of them - and equally as pervertedly luscious.

'And shall we still punish her?' enquired Vida suddenly.

'Yes, I think so,' he said after a pause, his voice gaining strength as he realised he was almost recovered. 'I think it's a matter of principle . . . Don't you, Dee?'

The sound of her name was a shock. After her subjugation and shame, Deana had almost forgotten who she was. A person, a woman, who was now being
asked
whether she wanted to have pain inflicted on her body. Unlikely and inappropriate as it seemed, she did have a choice.

'Do it! I want it!' she cried, not giving herself a chance to renege. She could take it. She would. After what she'd had so far, she wanted everything.

'Good girl,' said Jake, his voice as soft as a zephyr. She sensed him moving behind her, then saw him come into her field of view, still next to naked with his tiny leather pouch askew and his genitals uncovered and insolent. His cock was already stiff again, and there were silvery streaks - dried semen - on the fudge-coloured plains of his thighs.

'Over to you now, Vida,' he said briskly, moving closer to Deana's face and filling her head with his strong pungent odours.

'My pleasure,' murmured Vida silkily. 'Bentley, I'll have the paddle now.'

Deana had almost forgotten the quiet maid was present, and for a moment she wondered what Bentley thought of all this. It was probably quite commonplace, though. The presence of a fully fitted out sex-room tended to suggest that Vida indulged in such scenarios frequently. And that Jake de Guile wasn't the only man - or woman - that she shared them with.

That, in a strange way, was a comfort to Deana. Jake and Vida were obviously close; but if Vida had other paramours, it meant that Jake was a free agent too. And might have room in his life for others, on a more than purely temporary basis . . . Others who were worthy of him. Partners who could take what he dished out. The pleasure as well as the pain.