‘Master!’ she screamed. ‘Please! Master! I want it deeper! I want it much deeper!’
He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her back. In the same action he thrust into her with such force I could feel the power being buffeted through the blonde’s body and into mine. Her surge of pleasure was so intense I caught eddies of her enjoyment radiating from her skin.
She cried out with euphoria.
And then she collapsed sobbing on top of me.
Carlos pulled her away and showed me his length again. It remained hard, the veins pulsing with their own vibrant life. A slick sheen of wetness coated the shaft and the thatch of curls around his balls had become glossy with the residue of pre-come and musk.
‘There would be no shame in begging,’ he declared grandly. ‘I am Carlos san Miguel. Throughout the centuries women from all over the world have begged for the chance to savour my cock. You would not be the first woman who has grovelled on her knees. You would not be the first woman with a desperate need for the satisfaction I can provide.’
It was his arrogance that made me hesitate. If he had not put himself across with such obscene conviction in his own personal prowess I might have relented. But when he talked about himself with such pompous conceit, the idea of relenting was banished from my mind.
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘I probably wouldn’t be the first woman to beg for your cock. But yours would be the first cock I’ve ever begged for: and I can’t see that happening.’
A look of fury rushed across his face. He tried to disguise his anger by grabbing the third blonde and pushing her on top of me. But it was obvious I had insulted him by not treating him with the reverence he clearly desired.
This time the blonde was laid over me in a ‘69’ position. Her face hovered over my pussy while her sex remained inches above my face. Her thighs hid my view of the room but I saw enough shifting shadows to know that Carlos had walked behind me.
I cringed from the thought of what was about to happen. And, when he pushed his cock into the open split above my face, I realised this was going to be the most arduous test of my willpower yet.
Her sex engulfed him.
The flushed pink lips were forced apart and his long, thick shaft ploughed roughly inside. I was close enough to smell the sweat from his erection, the saltiness of his pre-come and the sweet, florid musk of the blonde’s arousal. Each time he slid into her I heard the greedy, wet slurp of her sex. Droplets of their mingled perspiration doused my face. If I had tilted my head a little higher I could have licked his shaft or her pussy as they repeatedly pushed themselves against each other.
But, while the thought of tasting them was truly tempting, I refused to give Carlos the satisfaction of such an easy acquiescence. He was adamant that I was going to beg for his cock, so the onus was on him to make me beg.
I closed my eyes and tried to make that thought a mantra but it was little help. As much as I tried to distance myself from what was happening, the vibrations from their bodies, as well as the sights, scents and sounds of the pair, proved inescapable.
Noisily, Carlos ejaculated inside the woman above me.
Chapter Nineteen
I was close enough to see his balls tighten as he pulsed inside her.
I heard the blonde scream, her cry resounding merrily from the tiled walls. And I could even hear the slick wet pulse of his shaft erupting into her hole. The stench of his ejaculate was raw and overpowering. The full perfume of her climax was so strong and rich it flavoured every other taste in my mouth and nostrils.
And then Carlos was pulling his wet shaft from her sex.
The flailing length dripped a string of ejaculate against my face.
The liquid dribbled onto my cheek and I was both delighted and disgusted by the unexpected bonus. The thought of wiping my hand in his semen, cleaning it from my face and then licking my fingers, was almost a compulsion. I had to grip the armrests on the birthing chair with renewed force to stop myself from giving into that whim.
Above me, the blonde’s pussy began to dribble with the overflow of Carlos’s semen. Her pink slit bubbled with white fluid and I watched the cream grow into a droplet that began to slowly descend toward me. My arousal had reached a height that appeared to have vanquished my shame. Regardless of how depraved the act seemed, I opened my mouth and hoped to catch a taste of Carlos’s second-hand ejaculate. I knew the liquid would be flavoured with the blonde’s musk and possibly warmed by her inner muscles. But that only struck me as an added seasoning that would undoubtedly make the taste worthwhile. With the muscles of my pussy clenching eagerly in anticipation, I was prepared to do anything if it could help me reach the climax I needed.
Carlos pulled the blonde away from me before the trail of his semen could reach my lips. I watched her go with an expression of misery that he clearly found amusing. His scathing laughter made me vow with fresh vehemence that I wouldn’t beg for him.
Regardless of how much I wanted to relent, I would only endure.
‘I have to go and shower,’ he chuckled. ‘One of my women will escort you to the dining room where you will wait for me. Is that clear?’
I nodded.
‘Feel free to masturbate while you are alone,’ he said coolly.
I blushed, wondering if he had read my mind. The thought of teasing myself to climax as I dwelt on all the things I had witnessed, was such a strong compulsion it wouldn’t have surprised me if Carlos had seen the idea in my eyes.
‘But just remember,’ he added, raising a finger as though he was about to make an important point. ‘Regardless of how good you are at masturbating, you will not be able to give yourself the pleasure that I could bestow.’
And, although the comment struck me as the most conceited remark Carlos had yet made, I knew that somehow he was almost certainly correct. That thought inspired a wave of disappointment that was crushing and, when I was led from the room, I felt as though I had been defeated.
One of the blondes took me to a sumptuous dining room that was predominantly silver and black. An ornate chandelier, its crystals sparkling duly, was suspended over an oblong ebony slab. The telephone in the corner was art deco: black Bakelite with a silver dial. High-backed chairs surrounded the vast table and the walls were decorated with more framed prints from Carlos’s salacious collection. These images had a food theme, appropriate for the dining room, I supposed. One showed a woman licking cream from an erection. Another showed a banana disappearing between a pair of wide and pouting pussy lips. The photographs were black and white, fitting in with the monotone colour scheme of the dining room and, if my gaze hadn’t been deliberately seeking out things that were arousing, it was most likely I wouldn’t have noticed their erotic content.
‘You should just beg him,’ the blonde told me. ‘It would make Carlos happy.’
The mole above her upper lip looked supremely kissable but I resisted the urge. As though I was now in tune with the psychic powers shared by Carlos and his harem, I understood the blondes were off limits until further notice. They were off limits until I had properly submitted to Carlos and he had deemed it was acceptable for me to play with them. The realisation inspired another level of gloom to my descending misery.
‘I’m not here to make Carlos happy,’ I growled. ‘And I’m not begging Carlos for anything. I’ve accepted his terms for this arrangement. He can accept mine.’
She shivered and urged me to sit at the foot of the table. ‘You’re so forceful,’ she breathed enthusiastically. ‘I’ll bet you’d make a wonderful mistress.’
I tried not to fixate on that image, picturing myself dominating all three blondes and ruling them without Carlos’s annoying intervention. The idea was so tempting it made fresh tremors tickle through the muscles of my sex. Dizzy with my need for climax, disturbed by the relentless power of my sexual appetite, I rubbed the heel of my palm against my crotch and groaned as a weak tremor of pleasure tickled through my sex.
‘I have to leave you now,’ the
blonde apologised. ‘I must go and help Carlos with his morning shower. He’s a very fastidious man.’
I remembered she had said something similar before. I nodded and watched her go. It came as a surprise to hear her describe the activity as a morning shower but a glance at the shaded window was enough to let me know that my second night as a vampire had passed and a new day was already making the world outside inhospitable. The realisation that time was hurrying by so quickly heightened my fears for Mel.
I began to fret that Carlos might be wrong about the timeframe laid out by the legion of vampire hunters. He had been wrong about them being a collective – Alan had said they operated under a leader when I tormented him from information. With growing despondency I wondered if I was wasting my time trying to help a friend who had already been destroyed by the hateful forces of goodness.
The thought was bleak enough to send my mood plummeting. I struggled to find some distraction that would take my thoughts away from the unpleasantness of my predicament or the hopelessness of Mel’s situation. I studied the new tattoo on my inner thigh, unhappy that it was there and silently vowing to have whatever laser surgery was needed to remove it as soon as I had secured Mel’s release. The crude drawing was a bat, identical to the one modelled by the blondes and suspiciously familiar to the memory I had of Mel’s tattoo. The flesh around the tattoo had already healed and I spent a solitary hour, tracing my finger along its crudely drawn lines and trying not to think of the release I could enjoy if I simply did as Carlos wanted and begged him to service me.
‘You are still here?’ Carlos announced when he finally appeared in the dining room. He was dressed in a loose, linen shirt and tight black pants. The outfit made me think of 18th century poets, although Carlos did not carry the same weight of thoughtful introspection. His rapacious smile glinted with a disturbing amount of confidence. Hungrily, he appraised my naked figure cowering at the foot of the table.
‘You are ready to beg for me, yes?’
‘I agreed to do whatever you asked of me,’ I replied. ‘If you want me to beg you, I’ll do as you’ve told me and beg.’
His smile disappeared. ‘You are an exasperating minx.’ With frightening speed he threw himself across the table and loomed over me. ‘It really will be easier if you relent,’ he promised. He was so close I could see the bulge that distorted the front of his tight pants. Even though he was fresh from the shower I could smell the piquant scent of his arousal. The fragrance was infuriatingly tempting and the desire to submit had never been stronger.
‘Do not play silly games with me, Tessa,’ he purred. His fingers dropped to the tattoo on my thigh and he stroked it with a caress that was exciting enough to make my pussy tremble. ‘You are one of my women now,’ he grinned. ‘You bear my mark. Why not take the easy option and give in to your instincts? You want me and I want you. Just beg me, Tessa. Beg me because you really want me, and it will be easier on both of us.’
And I wanted to relent.
I desperately wanted to snatch the cock from his pants and straddle him over the dining table. I had a fleeting image of the union in my mind’s eye. It would be hard, brutal and immensely satisfying. Carlos would plunge into me, filling me with his monstrous shaft and riding me until my pussy was sore. I would scream through countless orgasms, delighting in the pleasure and gushing with satisfaction. I could imagine his broad, strong fingers gripping my body, mauling my breasts and manhandling me with callous disregard for my feelings. The lack of consideration struck me as one of the most appealing aspects of the torment. The promise of fulfilment struck me as another.
But I wouldn’t give in.
‘If you want me to beg, Carlos,’ I began carefully, ‘I’ll follow your instruction and do it.’
He roared angrily and slammed his fist against the dining table. The blow landed hard enough to shake the house and make the prints on the walls quiver sympathetically.
‘I shall make this offer once more,’ he said coldly. ‘Do things the way I want, and it will be easier on both of us. Yield to me now and it will satisfy you and it will satisfy me. But if you continue trying to prove you are stronger than I, the outcome will not be so pleasant.’
‘What exactly are you threatening me with, Carlos?’ I asked.
He held me with a lingering scowl and then backed away.
The three blondes appeared and their presence helped to soothe the mood of antagonism and confrontation that had sat heavily between Carlos and myself. Appropriately – appropriate for the dining room, I thought – they were dressed as French maids. The black uniforms were set with white aprons, and their costumes suited the décor of the colourless dining room. I noticed they now wore black stockings and impossibly high heels, yet each managed to walk smoothly around the dining table as though they had been practising the skill throughout their lives.
‘Lie down on the table, Tessa,’ Carlos said calmly.
I did as he asked. It was an instruction and I wasn’t going to defy a direct instruction. The ebony was pleasantly cool against my skin. The sunlight outside the shaded window was not making it into the room but it inspired a warmth I didn’t particularly care to experience.
Carlos instructed one of the blondes to get on all fours above me. It was a hateful position, reminiscent of the last blonde I had been under in the hospital room. The hem of her short skirt brushed over my face. When it had passed my eyes I found myself staring at her naked pussy. The sight was mesmerising and my arousal returned with a brutal flourish. The tickle of the blonde’s fringe brushed against my thighs and I knew her mouth was only millimetres away from the open split of my sex.
‘You may touch her if you want, Tessa,’ Carlos allowed.
Not hesitating to respond to that command, I reached up and stroked my hands over the perfect smooth orbs of the blonde’s backside. She purred beneath my caress and I hastened to make the contact more stimulating and exciting. Using my thumbs to stroke close to the centre of her sex, I soon found my fingers teasing her labia before sliding into the tight, wet confines of her hole.
She sighed and squirmed onto my fingers.
Her responsiveness heightened the pulse of my arousal. After the agonising ordeal of witnessing so much excitement, without being physically involved, I was overwhelmed by the wealth of pleasure that came from teasing the blonde.
‘You are enjoying that?’ Carlos leered.
His voice came from somewhere behind me.
‘Of course I’m enjoying it,’ I told him. ‘Your women are exquisite.’
The blonde above me bristled at the compliment.
‘Of course my women are exquisite,’ he laughed. ‘I make them exquisite two or three times a day. I can make you exquisite too, if you simply beg.’
I said nothing. My jaw was clamped tight shut for fear that, if I spoke, I would begin to do as he asked and beg. The silence stretched interminably between us until Carlos finally spat, ‘You are a stubborn bitch.’
And then he was on the table with us.
His knees rested on either side of my head and I expected to watch his shaft push into the blonde pussy above me. I was so certain he would penetrate her sex that I had slipped my fingers away from her hole so the oversized erection had free access to her glistening pink flesh.
Consequently, when he placed the bulbous end of his cock against her anus, I stared on with mesmerised horror. He held a fist tight around his shaft, as though he needed to guide the penetration with extra accuracy. The tight ring of her muscle began to yield as he pressed forward. And within seconds, as I watched, his length began to slide into the taboo passage of her backside.
The blonde groaned.
The sound was carried on a wave of agonised ecstasy.
Carlos’s erection stretched her enormously wide as he pushed himself deeper into her bowel. I couldn’t recall ever seeing anything so frightening and exciting at such close range. Her sphincter was a crinkled ring of muscle. The skin tones were tan against the whiten
ess of her buttocks. And Carlos’s long, broad length stretched her enormously as he slowly pushed inside.
‘You will carry on fingering her,’ Carlos instructed.
My hands immediately went to the blonde’s sex. They trembled, as though I was also experiencing the intrusion of Carlos’s thick shaft.
The blonde gasped. She stifled a sob that came from somewhere between pain and pleasure. When I slipped my index finger between her labia she groaned more loudly. I could feel the weight of his erection inside her colon. The pressure pushed against my finger as I tried to squirm the digit deeper into her pussy.
‘Use two fingers!’ Carlos demanded. ‘This greedy little slut wants to feel two fingers in her pussy while I fuck her ass.’
I slid a second finger alongside the first.
As Carlos pushed his length deeper, the tickle of his pubic hairs brushed the back of my hand. I had a brief image of how it would feel to have his erection stuffed into the tight quarters of my rear and the mental picture was overpowering. The idea of begging him for satisfaction had never been stronger and I whimpered with frustration. I knew, if he had asked me to beg him in that moment, I would have easily acquiesced.
I watched him ride slowly back and forth and I felt every tremor of the exchange through the tips of my fingers. The blonde’s inner muscles clutched at my hand. Her sighs of mounting pleasure grew broader and deeper. The wetness of her sex became warmer and I could sense the mounting swell of her gathering climax.
‘Do you want to experience this, Tessa?’
I didn’t respond.
‘Do you want to have my cock inside you?’
Quickly finding my resolve, I clenched my teeth and said, ‘If that’s what you want, Carlos.’ As an afterthought, just so that he understood my position hadn’t changed, I added, ‘But I won’t beg you.’
Once Bitten Page 18