Greta's Game Boxed Set

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Greta's Game Boxed Set Page 8

by K. C. Silkwood


  But tolerable was the last word Becky would have used right then. Her sphincter felt like it was on fire as Roberto pushed deeper and deeper, his hard cock like an iron bar twisting its way inside her. It was the most constant, intense, and unusual pain she had ever felt, made worse by the fact that three of her classmates sat staring at her while it happened. And while Claire and Sam watched with open mouths, Kelly actually had a smirk on her face.

  Roberto gripped Becky’s slim hips as he pushed deeper, going slowly because he had no other choice. The girl’s ass was as tight as a clenched fist, and every inch of cock took great effort to get in, despite all the lube. But then he finally groaned as his big balls pressed against the girl’s smooth pussy lips, his cock buried to the hilt at last.

  Becky couldn’t gasp, or groan, or say a word. The burning sensation from her ass had spread through her entire body, which was paralyzed by the foreign feeling of having something so big inside of her. She could only stare straight ahead, eyes glazed, mouth half-open, as Roberto pulled back an inch or so then began a series of slow, short strokes. The first few seemed more like work because of the ungodly tight fit, but then the young man began to enjoy himself as Becky’s ass loosened a bit and he could slide his cock in and out more easily. He began withdrawing farther and farther, his strokes becoming longer, as Becky’s greased ass gradually accommodated him. Roberto increased his pace, groaning under his breath as he gripped Becky’s hips more tightly.

  Becky’s eyelids suddenly flickered. Despite the constant burning and uncomfortable fullness, a new sensation was beginning to spread through her body as well. Every time Roberto thrust forward, his big balls would slap against her pussy lips. Now a tingling of a totally different kind was slowly swelling through her lower body, something she had never experienced before. No, it’s impossible…I can’t be getting aroused while this stranger fucks my ass from behind! But the feel of his warm, fleshy balls slapping against her pussy over and over was too insistent to ignore. The tingling grew more intense, and the girl felt wetness on her thighs. Fight it, for god’s sake! Block it out! But she couldn’t, and soon the pleasant tingling was so strong that she let out a low moan.

  “Holy shit,” Kelly said. “I think Becky the Board is getting off on this!”

  “Becky?” Sam asked tentatively. “Are you all right?”

  The girl was too ashamed to answer, too ashamed to even look at the other girls. She turned her face away as Roberto kept thrusting, every slap of his balls driving her closer to the edge. She finally couldn’t hold back any longer and let out a strangled cry as the first orgasm of her life ripped through her. Her entire body shuddered, and her ass clamped down even harder on Roberto’s cock. The startled bellboy, who was already close to the edge himself, grunted and thrust one last time then flooded Becky’s ass with cum. He clawed her hips so hard he left red marks on the girl’s pale skin, keeping his cock thrust deep as it continued pumping. Becky finally collapsed face-first onto the carpet, and Roberto tumbled down on top of her with his cock still buried inside.

  “Bravo!” Greta exclaimed. “That was quite a performance from both of you. And I must say, Becky, your reaction was quite a surprise—perhaps for you as well.”

  Roberto put his palms flat on the carpet and slowly worked his cock out of Becky’s ass, which was considerably looser now than it was when the whole ordeal began. Greta handed the bellboy a towel and he wiped his crotch with it then got dressed again. He had pocketed his tip and was heading for the door by the time Becky finally raised her head. She looked sheepishly at the three other girls, then crawled back to the sofa and pulled herself up, wincing as she sat down.

  “Are you okay?” Sam asked.

  “Don’t try to make up with me,” Becky shot back.

  “But you didn’t…I mean, it looked like you actually enjoyed that.”

  “Don’t talk to me,” Becky said, her cheeks going red.

  “My turn, right?” Kelly asked, reaching for the spinner. “And then this bullshit is over and we can get the fuck out of here.”

  “It’s actually been quite an enjoyable afternoon,” Greta replied with a grin, “for me, that is.”

  Kelly spun and got a one, so Claire was her co-player. A low hiss came from Claire’s mouth as she tried to sink deeper into the plush sofa. She had been hoping the game would end without her getting stuck with another punishment. Despite the five hundred dollars, she didn’t know if she could go through what Becky or Sam had just experienced.

  Greta smirked as she read the final card. “My, my. What a perfect challenge to end the game on. Kelly, would you rather lick another woman’s breasts or make Claire lick another woman’s pussy?”

  “Well, Claire, looks like you’re gonna go diving for tuna,” the cheerleader said, laughing.

  Claire closed her eyes and shuddered. She couldn’t imagine doing something like that to another girl. Just the thought of it made her want to throw up. And who would Greta call in? One of the resort’s dumpy middle-aged maids? One of the haughty young waitresses? But when Claire opened her eyes again, she got the shock of her life; Greta herself had stood up and was now shrugging off her beach wrap.

  “That’s why I said this was the perfect challenge to end on,” she told Claire. “Because I’ve been sitting here for the past hour getting incredibly wet, and I could desperately use some relief.” She pushed her black bikini bottoms down her pale, shapely legs, revealing a pussy that had been shaved completely. The pink lips stood out clearly as Greta straightened up again, now naked except for her bikini top, just like Claire. “Come on, dear. Help this poor middle-aged woman out.” Greta sat down again and spread her legs, then patted the cushion beneath her. Claire went to her slowly and kneeled down in front of her, both repulsed and mesmerized by the sight of another woman’s pussy so close to her face. Greta’s pink lips were swollen and slick, and the insides of her thighs were damp as well.

  “I know you’re nervous, my dear, but I really don’t have the patience for a long courtship.” Greta cupped a hand around the back of Claire’s head and pulled her forward until the girls’ face was pressed to her crotch. Claire’s mouth clamped shut automatically as she smelled the other woman’s strong, strange scent and felt wetness against her chin. “Now, don’t play hard to get,” Greta warned. “I want that tongue out, please.”

  Trembling with shame and revulsion, Claire opened her mouth and stuck her tongue tip out, but she drew it quickly back at the first bitter taste of Greta’s juices. “Well, now you’re just hurting my feelings,” Greta muttered, pulling tighter on the back of the girl’s head. “Come on, my dear, time to eat your supper.” Sobbing, Claire stuck her tongue out again, farther this time. She gagged when it pressed against Greta’s slick pussy, but was too afraid to stop again. The older woman’s fingers were twined in Claire’s hair, clutching it painfully tight as she manipulated the teenager’s head like a puppet. “Yes, that’s it. That’s a good girl,” Greta encouraged as Claire licked up and down. Her technique was slow and clumsy, like a frail old dog licking water from a bowl, but it was still enough to send waves of pleasure coursing through Greta’s body.

  “Oh, my god,” Becky muttered. “This is disgusting.”

  Sam nodded, but she was secretly getting wet again. She crossed her legs and put both hands in her lap, tilting her head to get a better look. She couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to be in Greta’s place, with her classmate down on her knees in front of her. A shudder passed through her body and she took a deep breath, hoping no one else had noticed.

  Meanwhile Claire sputtered and coughed, barely able to breathe since her nose was jammed into Greta’s pussy along with her mouth. The older woman tugged on Claire’s hair, rocking the girl’s head back and forth to create a rhythm that the clumsy teenager couldn’t manage on her own. Now all Claire was doing was letting her tongue hang out of her mouth, because Greta was doing the rest of the work. The older woman was breathing harder now, nearly panting.
“Oh, yes, that’s the spot,” she murmured. “Keep that tongue out…all the way out. Perfect! Now I want it inside me…all the way, as deep as it will go.” Greta pulled Claire’s head even tighter and the girl’s tongue slid between the other woman’s pussy lips and into the hot, tight space between. Claire gripped Greta’s smooth thighs, fighting for breath, but the woman wouldn’t loosen her grip. “Oh, that’s heavenly,” she cooed. “Keep it there…right there…oh, yes…yes…yes!”

  Greta arched her back and her whole body shuddered. Now she had both hands wrapped around Claire’s head, keeping it pressed between her thighs as she gasped over and over again. When the waves of pleasure finally ebbed away, she released Claire and the girl tumbled backward, sobbing. Her face was wet with the other woman’s juices, and she grimaced as she wiped her mouth with the back of one hand.

  “How marvelous,” Greta sighed. “The technique was shoddy, of course, but you still deserve high praise for your efforts.” She stretched, sighing contentedly, her legs still spread wide open.

  “That’s it, right?” Sam asked. “The game is over.”

  “It is indeed,” Greta replied, a sleepy smile on her face.

  “Then give us our money and our passports so we can get the hell out of here.”

  Greta pouted. “Oh, do be patient, won’t you? You’re spoiling the moment for me.”

  “Fuck being patient,” Kelly retorted. “You need to call that waiter and tell him to bring our passports back, because god knows how long that’s gonna take. And while we’re waiting, you can get our money.”

  Greta chuckled. “There’s no need to be irate, dear. Your passports are still here in the suite.”

  Becky’s mouth opened wide. “But you said—”

  “A tiny fib, my dear, to help keep you girls under control. I can give you your money and your passports right now.”

  “Then do it, bitch,” Sam warned, her hands clutching into fists.

  Greta’s eyes went cold and the satisfied smile disappeared from her face. “Watch your mouth, young lady. I still—”

  “You still what?” Claire asked, standing up. Her eyes were red and her lip quivered with rage. She wiped her face again then flicked her hand at Greta, sending a splash of clear, sticky liquid across the other woman’s chest. “We’re done taking orders from you! The game is over! Give us our stuff!”

  “Mind your manners, Claire,” Greta warned.

  “Fuck that!” Kelly shouted. “Give us our money and our passports!”

  Greta crossed her arms over her chest. “If you don’t adjust your tone, I’ll make you wait all day!”

  “No, you won’t,” Sam replied, then she glanced from Claire to Kelly. “Help me. Grab her arms.”

  Greta shot out of her chair, but Claire and Kelly had her before she could run. The older woman struggled to get away, still clad only in her black bikini top. Her full tits jiggled as she fought with the younger girls, who managed to get Greta’s arms behind her back. “Bring her over here,” Sam directed, pointing to the sofa. “On her knees, face down.” Becky grabbed the coffee table and slid it sideways as the two other girls hauled Greta over and pushed her to the ground. Once she was on her knees, Claire kept one of her arms pinned behind her back while Kelly shoved the older woman’s head down into the sofa cushion. Her pale, shapely ass was now sticking out in plain view.

  Sam reached into Greta’s duffle bag and pulled out the paddle coated with black rubber. She bounced it against her palm a few times then walked over to Greta, bent down, and smacked it hard against the older woman’s ass. Greta gasped in pain as her pale cheeks slowly bloomed bright red.

  “Now let me ask you a question,” Sam said. “Would you rather give us our stuff right now, or give it to us after I’ve spanked you a hundred times with this?”

  Greta snorted, the side of her face pressed hard into the cushion. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  Sam looked at the others. “Girls, I think we have our answer,” she said, raising the paddle again.

  # # #

  Chapter 3: Greta’s Game 3

  When the freak snowstorm hit central Colorado, half the guests at the posh Red Eagle Valley ski resort cheered while the other half groaned. The guests who cheered were the ones whose vacations weren’t over yet, and now they would have tons of fresh powder to enjoy when they hit the slopes the next day. The guests who groaned were the ones who were ready to leave, but now they were stuck in the resort because the narrow road that twisted its way from Red Eagle to the tiny local airport was impassible because of the weather. And even if a vehicle could manage the trip, no planes were flying that night anyway.

  Greta Steele, who had occupied the resort’s Platinum Suite for several weeks, was one of the guests in no hurry to leave. But she had developed a keen interest in three other women who were desperate to get out of Red Eagle Valley as soon as possible. Judging from what she’d learned about the trio by spying, eavesdropping, and bribing the resort’s employees, they would be perfect candidates for her game. The only problem was, Greta needed four players. But then she happened to spy something by accident, and after a bit of sly and careful research, Greta found the woman who would complete the foursome.

  Using one of the valets who was already on her payroll, Greta summoned the four women to her condo. It was one of the resort’s most expensive suites, a ground-floor unit with easy ski-in, ski-out access. One of the resort’s main slopes was only a few yards away from the sliding glass door in the living room, which was currently frosted with grains of ice. Snow poured down in thick gobs outside, where the sun was just beginning to set.

  The four women stood in the foyer, confused but curious. All of them had noticed the slim, beautiful woman with the pale white skin and the black hair during their stay. Rumors buzzed throughout the resort that she might be a European countess, or perhaps an aging movie star. None of them realized that the woman was actually the owner and CEO of one of the world’s largest manufacturers of adult toys and lingerie, a woman whose passion for all things sexual was rivaled only by her perverse interest in the darker side of human psychology.

  “Come in, come in,” Greta beckoned from her spot on the thick L-shaped sofa. She wore black leggings and a soft black sweater, her lips and fingernails bright red as always. “Since we’re all stuck here for the foreseeable future, I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Greta Steele.”

  “Um…I’m confused,” said one of the girls, a blonde woman in her twenties with painfully average looks. “Do you work at the resort or something? The valet said you needed to see us. Is it something about our rooms, because we—”

  “Heavens no, my dear,” Greta interrupted. “I’m a guest, like yourselves. But I understand there’s a little problem with transportation, and I thought I might be able to help.”

  “But I…” the girl began, confused. “I mean, we don’t even know you. How did you—”

  Greta patted the cushion beside her. “Why don’t you all sit down and I’ll explain everything. You too, Wanda. I know you’re not traveling with these girls, but I believe I can help you out as well. And while we talk about it, let’s have some drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Since we’re stuck inside such a magnificent place, we might as well make the most of it.”

  The four women sat on the sofa, eyes flicking nervously around the luxurious suite as Greta put out dishes of caviar and poured champagne for everyone. A roaring fire blazed in the big stone fireplace, adding to the warmth and comfort of the room. “Now, then,” Greta began, “I believe I know all your names, but let’s make certain. You’re Debbie, correct?”

  The blonde girl nodded, frowning. She had an average face, an average body, nothing special or unique that would cause a stranger to remember her after she left a room. Her hair was cut in a shoulder-length bob, with bangs. She was 22, but the schoolgirl hairstyle made her look much younger. She wore jeans, boots, and a thick red sweater. “That’s right,” Debbie said, then she gestured to the girls sitting on
either side of her. “And this is Katherine and Nina.”

  Katherine was tall and slim, with small breasts and an ass so narrow that it barely made a bulge in her elegant black slacks. She was pretty in a cold, aristocratic way, with wavy brown hair that fell nearly to her waist. Her white blouse was buttoned all the way to her throat, and she wore no jewelry and no nail polish.

  The other girl, Nina, was just as outrageous as Katherine was conservative. Nina was a short girl with spiky black hair cut as short as a boy’s and bright green eyes lined with thick black makeup. She wore three earrings in each ear, a silver stud in her nose, and portions of multiple tattoos peeked out from the sleeves and neckline of a gray sweatshirt with a pattern of tiny pink skulls all over it. A pair of big, soft breasts lay beneath that sweatshirt, and a curvy ass filled out Nina’s ripped jeans.

  Greta found the dynamic between the three girls fascinating. Over the past week, she had learned that Debbie was about to be married and that the girls had come to Red Eagle Valley for a bachelorette trip, one final girls-only fling before the wedding. Apparently Debbie and Nina had been friends since childhood, while Debbie and Katherine met in college and had known each other for less than two years. Greta had also learned that Debbie chose Katherine to be her maid of honor, while Nina would be stationed somewhere in the middle of a long line of bridesmaids. The tension between Nina and Katherine had been thick and heavy during the ski trip, a factor Greta planned to milk for all it was worth.

  The woman at the end of the couch, who was much older than the other girls, raised one finger as if she were ordering a drink in a bar. “Uh, can we step on the brakes for a sec?” she asked in a thick Texas accent. “Y’all seem to know each other, but I’ve got no clue who any of you gals are. I don’t mind drinking free champagne, but it would be nice to know what this is all about.”

 

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