by Nicole Dere
Until I felt my arm roughly seized and I was dragged back towards the couch I had vacated. No worries now about the wisps of clothing. They were ripped from my body with a vigour that meant they would not be fit for wearing again. My partner, the same bulky northerner who had been enjoying me before, now made me straddle him as he sat on the couch. His prick stood up like a totem pole. My heels were hooked over the gilded back of the couch as I faced him, holding him around the neck, and I lowered myself onto his straining cock. He slid easily home and I felt his pulsing length filling my narrow passage, which spasmed about the intruder with an eagerness that shocked me but about which I could do nothing. In fact, it was I who controlled the heady sensation we both experienced as I rode on his lap, and took us both on the gallop that led to our mutual breathless triumph as we raced past the winning post of fulfilment.
Chapter 9
The sexual Olympiad continued throughout the rest of that day, and half the night that followed. To my private amazement, it was the dainty Moira who proved to be the most resilient of us all. Nicky moved through all the mechanics of the games they made us play like an automaton, except for the occasional muted groans of discomfort on account of her stinging, reddened behind. Anita and I were also too bemused by our ordeal to collect our thoughts. When we found ourselves once again herded into the bathroom, to cleanse ourselves for the next round of hectic activity, it was Moira who spoke up, her tone injecting a weird sense of normality into our far from normal situation.
‘Well, that Maurice is a big bugger – and I don’t just mean that fat gut of his!’ I looked at her blankly. She had finished drying herself and dropped her towel. She stood with her legs slightly apart, her fingers touching her inner thighs, peeling open her labia below the rich redness of her pubic hair. She caught my look, and added, ‘You know, the one that’s from the same region as the president. The one with the belly; that’s his name – Maurice.’
How nice, I thought sarcastically, she was on first name terms with them.
She stared at me belligerently. ‘You ought to know, Jane,’ she went on. ‘He was shagging you after Nicky got her bum spanked again. And you were crawling halfway up the wall with pleasure.’
I felt myself blushing furiously and was glad to hide my face in the fluffy white towel.
‘Well, it’s no good acting coy any more, is it?’ Moira pursued the subject with that air of aggression I had noted in her earlier and not much liked. ‘We’ve all been well and truly shafted, and I suspect there’s a lot more to come.’
And her prophecy proved all too accurate.
When we went back into the main room where we had shared the meal, we were passed around again, so that by the time we could see the beautifully emblazoned sunset over the dark surface of the lake through the windows, the four men had all sampled each of us. They clearly derived added pleasure from the communal nature of the couplings and, shameful though it was, I too began to sneak furtive glances about me at the permutations of male and female, dark and pale flesh, my own sexual arousal heightened by what I saw.
After an interval for more drinks and snacks, which we were urged to take our fill of, the president ordered us to lie side by side on the hastily cleared table, our hips touching, our legs dangling to the floor. We gazed up apprehensively as the four naked figures lined up facing us.
‘You know me,’ beamed Koloba. ‘You may call me Mr President. This is Maurice,’ he indicated his fellow tribesman. ‘This is Samuel,’ the third man was almost as tall as Koloba, his skin an equally deep shade, but he was much thinner, his facial structure angular, with a prominent jaw and large, jutting teeth of pale yellow. The fourth figure was the altogether slighter individual, with the boyish looks and skin of a lighter brown, who had been my first partner. Unlike the others, whose ebony skin was smoothly free from hair, apart from the scrub of tight curls at their bellies, he had finer whorls of hair on his chest, and also on his forearms and the front of his thighs.
‘And this is David,’ Koloba said, with a theatrical gesture. ‘As you can see, all tribes and creeds are united under my command!’ His characteristic laughter boomed out. Joseph stepped forward and handed him four eye masks of black velvet, with a thin elastic band to go round the back of the head, the kind of thing passed out on long flights to make sleep easier. We put them on as ordered, but we knew they were not intended to help us towards much needed slumber.
Sealed in darkness I lay there, every muscle tense. I could feel my hip rubbing gently against Moira’s. On her other side was Anita, and then Nicky. The soles of my feet just touched the floor. My legs were almost straight, and the table’s sharp edge dug into my bottom. I guessed Moira’s feet must have been dangling, being that she was just that little bit shorter than me.
‘Now,’ the disembodied voice of the president filled the room, ‘all you have to do is identify your partner. The man who will jig-a-jig you! There will be a prize if you get it right – and of course, a forfeit if you make a mistake. Right gentlemen, let the contest commence!’
I could hear laughter, whispers, and then movement. I was trembling, and my stomach muscles tensed as I waited to be penetrated. But I gasped as instead I felt the softest of fingertips stroke up my inner thighs from my knees, gently parting my legs as they did so. The pads played over the wrinkled lips of my labia and peeled them open.
The amazingly gentle fingertips slowly travelled the length of my narrow cleft, and I could feel myself moistening and blossoming beneath their attention. I nibbled my lip, and my breasts lifted in a gusty sigh. Helplessly, my buttocks clenched against the cool hardness beneath them and my hips lifted towards the increasingly invasive strokes. The fingers held me open, and even though I could not see myself, I knew they were exposing the darkening shades leading to the narrowing funnel of my vagina. It spasmed, taken over once more by its seemingly insatiable hunger, and I felt my juice flowing all the more.
My spinning brain tried to identify my seducer. Was it David? Somehow I associated such teasingly delicate foreplay with him, and I found myself hoping I would be proved right. I thought back to the bouts of sexual intercourse I had undergone during the long day. Yes, surely his fucking had been the most pleasurable? But I was no longer sure of anything except for the thunderous needs of my own flesh.
I even tried to identify the body scent, and the light fragrance of the masculine cologne he wore.
A fingertip was buried deep into the upper folds of my vulva, and had skilfully located the area around my roused clitoris, stirring me with small circular movements to which my belly and pelvis were lifting in responsive rhythm. The excitement mounted to that point where my locked muscles ached for the feel of a rampant penis driving fully home into my waiting sex – and it didn’t matter whose erection it was!
My legs were lifting of their own accord, to open myself further to that compelling finger, and I closed them around a body – slick with a film of sweat. It was not David, my confused senses registered, before I felt my ankles seized in a strong grip and parted wide, so that I no longer had any contact with the body between my thighs. But then I cried out, arching upwards from the polished wood, for the wet head of an engorged and stiffened cock probed at my vulnerable flesh and nuzzled into my narrow entrance. I lifted my belly, longing only to feel the hardness enter me properly, but its owner teased me, let the slippery head slide up and down the groove of my sex, until I was wriggling madly and pleading desperately.
‘Oh please, please!’ I wept, my back arched and my head tossed back, all notions of pride and decency shattered by my need.
And then at last I shuddered in total ecstasy and fulfilment, as that rampant penis surged and filled me with its potency. Immediately I started to come, the waves of pleasure fanning out, sweeping over me, from my stretched and possessed cunt to the very tips of my fingers and toes. It seemed was though the very core of my flesh was bursting with star-like brilliance, dipping and soaring to an explosive climax, again and again whi
le he plundered me. I howled blindly, the velvet blindfold soaked with my tears, and then sagged in utter exhaustion and defeat, gladly enduring the onslaught of rutting flesh until the surging release that meant the end of our union.
He left me then, drained and empty. My ankles were released, my feet dropped limply to the floor, and I lay swooning in the aftershock. Dimly, to add to my shame, I acknowledged that I had no idea who it was that had so spectacularly fucked me.
The noises to my left and right told me the others had not yet finished. But gradually the grunts and gasps and sighs eased, and quietened to easy, regular breathing.
Eventually the order came to remove the blindfolds, and wearily we eased ourselves up off the table, shamefully conscious of the hectic congress we had been put through. I blinked in the light and rubbed my eyes, and saw that the men had slipped on their silk robes. I wished we had some vestige of cover, but even the tattered scraps of our underwear had long since vanished.
‘Well,’ Koloba boomed, ‘time for your decisions, girls. Nicky, my lovely thing, who was your partner?’ She stared at him in mute, wide-eyed misery. ‘Come on,’ he urged jovially, ‘or I’ll begin to think you’re teasing us so you can have that exquisite bottom of yours thrashed again.’
She gazed at him helplessly, her cheeks blushing. ‘Um, I – I think it was you,’ she stammered. ‘Or… or perhaps…’ she pointed at the grinning Maurice, and the men roared with laughter.
‘Which one, girl? Come on, choose!’
Nicky looked flustered. ‘Oh, er you, Mr President,’ she said hastily, and he bellowed again with laughter.
‘Wrong!’ he cried gleefully. ‘Now you, redhead! Who possessed you, my pretty little flaming-haired creature.’
Moira’s fine face was lifted in an expression of defiance, and her eyes were fixed on his. ‘Mr President,’ she said levelly, ‘I was sure I was the one you were screwing. Don’t tell me I was wrong.’
He shook his head, grinning in delight. ‘I cannot tell you yet,’ he said. ‘It would be unfair. We must not make it easy for your friends. Now, you guess. Who was your partner?’
The finger jabbed at me, and I stared at it. The pale curve of the short nail stood out against the solid column, and I thought of that sensitive touch arousing me so powerfully. No way! Yet I remembered, too, the fleeting contact of my legs around that corpulent and sweaty body. That was definitely not the lithe frame of David, so at a loss, I nodded at the bulky form of Maurice.
Last to guess was Anita. Her lovely head hung with shame, the black locks partly shielding her face. I watched her feet twist, the toes curl and the knees turn inward, like a little girl caught with shyness at her first school concert. One hand moved in the direction of the smiling David.
The president was aquiver with delight. ‘Only my little redhead was right!’ he crowed. ‘I cannot disguise my prowess, eh, friends?’ His companions laughed enthusiastically. ‘Nicky – you had Samuel. Anita – you had Maurice.’ He turned to me, his open face alive with mischief. ‘And you, Jane, I give you one more chance. Guess again, little sexy mouth!’
I could not believe I could have been so mistaken, and I was even more red-faced as I turned to the slim David. But as I did, Koloba’s cackles of mirth burst out with redoubled strength. ‘Wrong again!’ he wheezed gleefully, and his huge frame shook with laughter. I stared foolishly around me. He had taken Moira; Samuel had taken Nicky, Maurice had possessed Anita. It had to be David who had taken me. There was no one else!
Then I wished the floor would open up and swallow me, as after an interval when all of them were chortling with glee at my bewilderment, Koloba turned and beckoned the figure of the anonymous barman forward. Grinning idiotically, the fellow obeyed and lifted his white gown to his haunches, exposing a pair of sturdy legs and a thick penis that, even when dormant, hung at an impressive length between his thighs. The tears stung my eyes as I heard, as a counterpoint to the bass storm of male laughter, Moira’s whispered exclamation of satisfaction.
But there was more to sting than mere tears. I had all but forgotten Koloba’s words when we were first blindfolded. Now they came back all too vividly as one of the heavy couches was lugged from its position against a wall, so that it stood in the middle of the room. Nicky, Anita and I were made to stand behind it, and then to bend forward until our heads were resting in the depths of the plush red upholstery. Thus, the tight rounds of our bottoms were raised in prominent presentation for the forfeit we had to pay.
As a joke, it was a painful one. The president produced a thick strap, one end of which was split into three narrow strands. ‘You see this?’ he said. ‘It is a tawse. Your white missionaries used it every day on us when I was at school. Apparently it was an invaluable aid to our education. I hope it serves some useful purpose for you too, my little malayas. Now let me introduce you.’
Cruelly, he trailed the leather thongs lightly over our bottoms, chuckling at the way our buttocks dimpled at the sinister contact. I was at one end, Nicky’s toned globes filled the centre, flanked on the other side by Anita, and the stewardess was the first to receive her punishment.
There was a terrifyingly loud crack and a pitiful scream as Anita sprang upright, clawing at the fire rippling through her bottom.
‘Gentlemen, some assistance here,’ he chuckled, obviously savouring her distress, and immediately three figures came forward and I found my head held securely between David’s knees, his hands pressing firmly down, thus trapping my upper body effectively. The hard edges of the couch’s carved wooden back bit into my stomach and the tops of my thighs, but all too soon I had far greater discomfort to worry about.
With dread, I had to endure Nicky’s shriek as the strap cracked across her bottom. The couch creaked with her jerked movements. I tensed, quivering with apprehension. When it came, the crack of the leather flamed like a white-hot brand over my clenched bottom. I’m sure I wailed and blubbered and squirmed and fought with my two unfortunate captors, but all I remember is the searing pain, and then the tense wait for the next explosion of leather on flesh.
And wait we did. He struck deliberately, pausing after each blow until the howling, twisting victim subsided, before moving on to the next. We were given five blows each, though the torment seemed to last a lifetime. When at last we were released we could hardly bear to straighten up. I felt as if even raising an eyebrow would add to the blaze of pain throbbing through my bottom.
It was perhaps a cruelly fitting finale to their entertainment. Hobbling like crones, we were led out by the grinning Joseph. We flinched and winced at the kiss of the cool water under the shower, and whimpered when, as gently as we could, we bathed one another’s scorched flesh. The hard red welts stood out, raised on our pale skin.
We squatted, unable to bear contact with the plastic loo seat as we relieved ourselves, too far gone in our misery to be outraged by Joseph’s eager stares. We were so weary and sore with the effects of the day that we scarcely registered the luxury of the bedroom, the wide bed under whose soft clean sheets we climbed and fitted ourselves spoon-like against each other, comforted, in spite of our aches and pains, by the gentle touch of each other’s bodies.
Chapter 10
I woke from an uneasy sleep. It was still dark, and I could feel the cosy warmth of Nicky’s body, the generous swell of her warm buttocks resting against my thighs, just as Anita was curled into my back. I sensed Nicky was awake too, and restless. I let my hands creep up to hold her breasts, felt their quivering movement and the hardening of her nipples against my palms. Gently my lips touched her curving shoulder, and then the fragrance of her neck.
‘Come on, sweetheart,’ I whispered, nibbling at her ear, and unable to help myself, I dropped my other hand down across her belly to the soft patch of pubis, stroking the curly tendrils, pressing lightly against the cushiony pad of the flesh they adorned. I quickened with excitement at the feel of the damp yielding, the upper folds of her vulva.
Her slender thighs tens
ed, and then her hand closed over mine and pressed it against those moist sex lips, holding it there, trapping it between her squeezing limbs.
‘Everybody knows about me now,’ she whispered sadly, but even as she spoke I could feel those muscles in her toned tummy and thighs moving in an instinctive welcome of my touch. ‘I’m gay, aren’t I? Krista knew, didn’t she? I didn’t even know myself.’
‘Shush, darling,’ I hushed, trying to comfort her. ‘It’s no good – we mustn’t blame ourselves. We’re totally helpless here. It’s not our fault.’ But even as I whispered, and kissed her neck and her ear, my hand was moving, my fingers feeling the divide of her sex, which grew wet and parted to offer me freer access. And my own sex grew wetter and pulsed more imperiously as I pressed my thighs tighter to her abused bottom.
Then, just at the wrong moment, Anita turned and stirred, and I guiltily snatched my hand from the warm and moist haven between Nicky’s thighs.
The greyness of dawn appeared at the window and Nicky rose, her graceful body outlined against the dim light. I joined her at the window and stared across the sloping lawns, which were covered with a thin white mist that hid the trunks of the distant trees, and above which their disembodied foliage stood out darkly. The mist cloaked the lake. We shivered in the chilly atmosphere, our naked flesh cover with goose bumps, our nipples erect.
‘I wonder where Krista is,’ Nicky said, her tone almost one of wistful regret.
I slipped my arm around her waist, ashamed yet acknowledging my desire to touch her. ‘More to the point,’ I said, noticing that only Anita was in our communal bed, ‘I wonder where Moira is.’