Out it came, as big and ugly as ever, fully erect, with the bulbous helmet glossy with pressure. Sarah began to tug at it, eager to get her ordeal over with despite knowing she would have to dildo herself and make him come in her mouth before she was done. It was getting hard to resist her feelings too, with Céleste’s finger moving slowly in and out of her bottom hole as she was opened and her naked breasts rubbing gently on the bed covers as she masturbated Monsieur d’Orsay.
She gave in, always so much easier than resistance, twisting her neck to take Monsieur d’Orsay in her mouth. Céleste gave a brief mocking laugh and withdrew her finger from Sarah’s anus, leaving the hole loose and ready. Sarah sucked for a moment more, then let him free of her mouth and scrambled up the bed to reach for the dildoes. Both were large, thicker than any man’s cock, long and black and heavily veined, the monstrous phalli of her darkest fantasies, and yet she knew they would go in.
It was not easy. Squatting on the bed with her bottom thrust out and both Monsieur d’Orsay and Céleste watching, Sarah was obliged to twist and probe at the mouth of her cunt with the bigger of the two dildoes. Her flesh gave only slowly to the pressure, loosening gradually until at last her flesh was stretched out on the full width of the dildo. She began to fuck herself, easing the massive shaft a little deeper each time, and quickly gasping and sighing as she was overcome by the sheer intensity of the experience.
Only when her cunt dildo was wedged in to the hilt did she stop, changing position slightly to hold it in against the bed and flaunt her anus as she picked up the second, fractionally smaller dildo. It looked impossibly large, maybe twice the width of Giles’ by no means small penis, and as she put it between her cheeks she was wondering if it really was feasible. The first push hurt, but she forced herself to relax and pretend she was on the loo, adding greatly to her humiliation as she felt her anal ring start to spread.
Again it had quickly begun to hurt, and she was whimpering with reaction as she pulled the dildo back a little and pushed again. Her ring spread a little more, and more still with the next push, opening slowly as she buggered herself, sobbing and gasping as she forced the fat rubber head bit by bit into her straining anus, but still it wouldn’t fit.
‘Get it in, you little slut,’ Céleste said suddenly.
Before Sarah could react the dildo had been shoved firmly up past her reluctant ring and deep into her rectum, wringing a squeal of shock and pain from her lips and leaving her panting and shaking her head, but only for a moment before Monsieur d’Orsay took her by the hair and fed his cock into her mouth.
‘Play with yourself then, cocotte,’ Céleste laughed as Monsieur d’Orsay began to fuck Sarah down her throat.
Sarah was in no condition to obey, choking on d’Orsay’s cock and dizzy from the huge dildoes bloating out her cunt and rectum. Only when Céleste planted a stinging slap across Sarah’s buttocks did she begin to masturbate herself, as she knew she had to, wriggling on the intruding shafts and clutching at her sex in a desperate effort to get herself off and praying the experience wouldn’t leave her anus so slack she would be forced to wear a plug.
To her vast relief Monsieur d’Orsay came quickly, spunking up down her throat and keeping a firm grip in her hair to force her to swallow, then pulling away to wipe his sticky cock in her face. She made to stop masturbating, only to have Céleste take hold of the dildoes again, both of them this time, and begin to work them in and out of Sarah’s cunt and rectum. At the knowledge that she was being used by Céleste Sarah gave in completely, sticking her bottom out for more. She was moaning as she rubbed at herself, her eyes closed in ecstasy as her anus and the ring of her cunt pulled in and out on the huge dildoes, and crying out Céleste’s name as she came.
‘… Please, Céleste, yes … fuck me… use me, make me your slut … it’s what I am, Céleste … please …’
She broke off with a choking cry, her orgasm too intense for speech, yet still desperate for Céleste’s confirmation of her needs even as she shook and wriggled in climax. Céleste merely laughed, and Sarah was left to slump exhausted on the bed in utter confusion and the deepest misery.
As time moved on she found herself too numb to react, merely following orders as she was told to clean herself up and cream her aching holes. Madame Leboeuf then had her dress in a maid’s uniform of black satin with a corseted waist, a low stiffened bodice that left her breasts supported in cups of lace with her nipples showing and a flounced skirt so short it failed to cover her bottom. She kept her seamed stockings and was put in black heels joined by a short chain to force her to take tiny mincing steps, then a collar and lead.
Walking behind Céleste and Monsieur d’Orsay as best she could, she was led through the streets of Paris, an obvious tart, drawing sneers and lustful glances from passers-by as she went. Monsieur d’Orsay lived in the Rue St. Dominique, opposite the church, an address as respectable as his position in life dictated, and yet as Sarah was led to his block and up the stairs it was she who drew the contemptuous disapproving looks and remarks, while he was treated with courtesy. Plainly it was acceptable for a man like him to enjoy a tart, but not to be one.
His apartment was exactly as she had imagined it, restrained and masculine, tasteful and understated, with only a selection of fine erotic prints to hint at his tastes. Sarah was trembling badly as she was led into the large bedroom with the ensuite bathroom to one side, and making involuntary little mewling noises through her closed lips. She knew exactly what was going to happen to her, and even Céleste looked nervous for once, speaking to her in a hiss as Monsieur d’Orsay poured himself a Cognac.
‘Do not, whine, you little fool. This is your own doing!’
Sarah nodded miserably, opened her mouth to tell Céleste how much she would enjoy at least the first part of what was coming and to plead to be kept, then shut it again as Monsieur d’Orsay stepped back into the room. He was holding a bottle and three glasses, which he put down on his bedside table as he spoke.
‘This will, I think, be more pleasurable for all of us with the assistance of a little Cognac, no? It is a Grande Champagne, Céleste my dear, a ’thirty-seven. Do help yourselves.’
‘It would be a waste to serve the slut anything half so fine,’ Céleste responded. ‘Do you not have a peasant marc, or perhaps some cheap absinthe?’
‘By all means, if you think it appropriate,’ Monsieur d’Orsay answered. ‘There is the absinthe the woman who does my cleaning drinks, with the green label.’
He made no move to get it, and Céleste left the bedroom. Sarah winced, knowing exactly what was going on, her drink spiked to render her vulnerable and damn Monsieur d’Orsay when the police arrived. Only as she took the glass of milky green liquid from Céleste’s hand did she realise that she could play the same trick as had been played on her. After pretending to take a couple of sips she excused herself to visit the loo, tipping the contents of the glass into the bowl before she sat down.
Céleste and d’Orsay were talking outside, her voice cool but compliant, his full of lust as he described what he wanted done, in French too fast and with too many slang terms for Sarah to understand. She didn’t have to. The scene was created to her own ideal: a spanking, oral sex with Céleste, being peed all over, then used by Monsieur d’Orsay. Every detail was clear in her head, her desire warring with her shame as usual, and as she dabbed a piece of loo paper to her sex she made a point of rubbing at her clitoris for a moment, determined to overcome her inhibitions as there seemed to be no option but to comply.
‘Are you finished, Sarah?’ Céleste demanded from the bedroom. ‘If I must do this, we had best begin.’
‘Non, non, pas du tout,’ Monsieur d’Orsay began urgently, switching to English as Sarah came out from the bathroom. ‘This is not the way. I do not want the false fumblings of whores who perform only for money. I want caresses, sensuality. I want you to make love!’
‘I shall do my best, Monsieur d’Orsay,’ Céleste responded, ‘but you would do
well to remember the circumstances of our associate.’
Monsieur d’Orsay shrugged, then spoke again.
‘Come, come,’ he urged, ‘let us put such unpleasant details aside. Set aside your bitter thoughts, or indeed, all thoughts. Let your bodies speak for you, no?’
Céleste’s response was a weary shake of her head, but there was unexpected warmth in her voice as she spoke again, already shrugging off the jacket of her smart black skirt suit.
‘Come then, Sarah, he is right, is he not? We have no choice in what we do, so we must accept our fate, yes?’
Sarah thought of the police, and yet if there was irony in Céleste’s voice it could not be detected. Nodding, she too began to undress, only for Monsieur d’Orsay to throw up his hands in an aggravated gesture.
‘No, no, no! What did I say?’ he demanded. ‘Sensual, sensual! Climb onto the bed, undress each other, kiss and caress as your skin comes bare, as you would were you alone together.’
‘It seems we must,’ Céleste sighed.
‘Yes, yes, you must,’ d’Orsay confirmed. ‘Alors, Céleste, du Cognac? Sarah, another absinthe, this time neat, as Alfred Jarry drank it, although I think you need not go quite so far as he did and paint yourself green, no? Perhaps another time.’
He chuckled as he poured a generous measure of absinthe into Sarah’s glass, passing it to her where she had climbed onto the bed before seating himself, glass in one hand and the other already working on his fly to flop out his limp penis as Sarah turned to Céleste. To her surprise, Céleste smiled and chinked her glass on Sarah’s before taking a sip and setting it carefully down. Sarah imitated the gesture, already hoping against hope that Céleste might be persuaded to change her mind.
‘We must undress each other, it seems,’ Céleste said, this time allowing a touch of amusement to show in her voice.
Sarah nodded, her hands shaking badly as she reached out for the top button of Céleste’s blouse. Just to touch was almost more exciting than she could bear, with the prospect of making love to her heroine so desirable she could barely breathe for her feelings. In contrast Céleste was calm, pinching the catches that held Sarah’s corseted uniform close to let them spring open as she let go. Each little shock drove Sarah to distraction and made her trembling worse still as the dress came open across her belly.
With nothing beneath the dress, she was effectively bare as it fell away, her chained heels, stockings and collar her sole garments. To be naked for Céleste felt glorious, although her resentment at the watching Monsieur d’Orsay was rising, and with it came guilt for her own behaviour, stronger than before. As she finally managed to get the third of Céleste’s buttons open, revealing the gentle valley of her heroine’s cleavage, she had begun to babble.
‘I am sorry, Céleste, I am so sorry. Can you forgive me? I don’t deserve it, but can you, please? I should be punished, I know, badly … it’s what I deserve, and I have tried … I even made myself eat dog food, Céleste, just to punish myself …’
Céleste gave her a look of surprise and not a little disgust, but put her fingers to her lips as she replied.
‘Hush, Sarah. Do what we must do.’
Sarah nodded and smiled, forcing herself to concentrate on Céleste’s blouse. There was no bra beneath, the small upturned breasts perfectly shaped despite being unfettered, and as Céleste’s blouse came open it was more than Sarah could resist not to push her face between them, sobbing as she kissed the milk-smooth skin and, as Céleste cradled her head, bursting into tears.
Monsieur d’Orsay gave a pig-like grunt at Sarah’s show of emotion, his hand now working on his cock, which had gradually begun to respond after his earlier orgasm. Fresh resentment and stronger guilt flooded through Sarah as she clung on to Céleste, now nibbling urgently at one neatly formed nipple and whimpering pleas for forgiveness into her heroine’s chest until once more she was told to hush.
‘Come,’ d’Orsay drawled. ‘Take her skirt off, Sarah. Let us see how expensive her panties are. Let us see that little bottom.’
‘We must,’ Céleste whispered, as Sarah hesitated.
‘I want to,’ Sarah sighed, lifting her face to Céleste’s ear. ‘I want to so badly, but not in front of that pig, not –’
‘Hush!’ Céleste urged for the third time. ‘Have some more absinthe, you will feel better.’
Sarah broke away to take another swallow of the vivid green drink, draining the glass and leaving a trail of fire down her throat. Again she cuddled up, forcing herself to open the button at the rear of Céleste’s skirt, to slip the tiny zip down and ease the garment low. As Céleste came bare Sarah felt the silk and lace of her panties, a sight that provoked another grunt from Monsieur d’Orsay.
‘Now her knickers,’ he grated. ‘Nice and slow. Push your bottom out, Céleste.’
Céleste obeyed immediately, to Sarah’s surprise, dipping her back to make her bottom a little round ball in the lacy panties, thrust out directly at Monsieur d’Orsay. Sarah had got Céleste’s skirt well down, and took hold of the panties, her mind rebelling against her own action even as she peeled them slowly down to expose her darling’s sweet firm cheeks to the grunting sweating voyeur, whose fat clammy cock was now half-stiff in his hand while the other massaged the bulky scrotum he had pulled from his underpants.
With Céleste’s skirt and panties down, Sarah paused to refill her glass. She could already feel the absinthe getting to her, pushing the last of her inhibitions down and bringing out her rebellious spirit. Céleste had quickly peeled off her disarranged clothes, leaving her in nothing but the seamed stockings encasing her long and perfectly-formed legs, a sight that sent a shudder through Sarah’s body despite the annoying grunts and meaty slapping noises made by Monsieur d’Orsay struggling to bring his cock to full erection.
‘Show me your cunts,’ he puffed. ‘Both of you. Kneeling. And you must lick Céleste from behind, Sarah.’
Céleste hesitated only a moment before rolling onto all fours to lift her bottom, her slim thighs and neat cheeks doing nothing to hide the shaven pouted mound of her sex, nor the tight brown pucker of her anus. Sarah quickly got into the same lewd position, side by side with Céleste, their bottoms lifted for inspection, now biting her lip with aggravation for the way Monsieur d’Orsay was spoiling what should have been the perfect moment.
‘A fine pair of tarts, aren’t you, no?’ he chuckled. ‘Look at you, with your bottoms in the air, one no better than the other. Certainly your cunts are equally wet. Now, Sarah, get your tongue in up that hole, from the side, so I can see.’
Sarah responded, cursing him as she moved. Céleste looked infinitely desirable, despite being in such an undignified position, and lust had quickly won out over her rising anger. Coming close she allowed herself to take hold of Céleste’s waist and thighs, pushing her head in to kiss the cream-smooth skin of one firm little buttock, the scent of woman now strong in her nose, and the taste in her mouth as she gave in to her needs, burying her face between Céleste’s thighs to lick with desperate urgency.
She was licking another woman’s sex for the first time in her life, something she had never dared admit she wanted, and not just any woman, but Céleste, with whom she had been in love for so long. Already she wanted to masturbate, Monsieur d’Orsay’s crude attention set aside in her urgency, only for his voice to break in on her rising excitement as she found the swollen lips of her sex.
‘So that I can see, I said, Sarah. Make her do as I say, Céleste, or you know the consequences.’
Sarah moved without waiting to be told, exchanging the uninhibited ecstasy of freely licking Céleste for the dirty, used sensation of doing the very same for the satisfaction of Monsieur d’Orsay. Now with her head pressed to Céleste’s bottom, she extended her tongue, lapping at the fleshy pink folds and the minute glistening bud where they met. It still felt good, there was no denying it, and she began to massage her own sex as she licked.
‘That’s good,’ d’Orsay grated, ‘r
ub your cunt while you do it, my little slut, and now her anus, lick her anus.’
Céleste’s body tightened briefly at the order, and Sarah hesitated, her eyes now fixed on the tiny dark brown hole she had been ordered to lick, a dirtier, more submissive act by far, and one she was powerless to resist. Her head moved higher, her tongue poked further out and she was doing it, lapping at the puckered anal ring, pushing in up the central hole, tasting her lover’s bottom as she clutched at her own eager cunt, already close to orgasm and, as Céleste sighed in involuntary pleasure, Sarah came.
‘That is good,’ d’Orsay panted, his cock now hard in his hand. ‘Now make her do it, make the proud bitch show she is a woman like any other. Do it!’
Sarah was still coming and ignored him, her tongue pushed deep in up the tight ring of Céleste’s anus where she felt it most belonged. Furiously willing d’Orsay to go away, she continued to lick, her face once more buried between the slim bottom cheeks, her tongue pushed in as deep as it would go, and to her delirious joy Céleste had began to whimper and moan. Sarah was still rubbing, and her climax hit a new peak at the response.
With a last tender kiss to Céleste’s anus she moved lower, licking her darling’s cunt as she masturbated herself to peak after peak after peak. Céleste’s moans grew louder, her much-vaunted dignity now gone as she began to wriggle her bottom in Sarah’s face and beg to be licked harder. Sarah obliged, her nose now pushed to her lover’s wet bottom hole as she lapped, faster and faster, to the sound of ever greater excitement, until at last Céleste came, gasping out her ecstasy under Sarah’s tongue and begging for more until at last she went limp.
Sarah rocked back on her heels, panting for breath, dizzy with drink and lack of air. Céleste sank slowly down on the bed, falling sideways to look up at Sarah with half-lidded, happy eyes, only for her expression to change to sudden surprise. Sarah twisted around, expecting to find Monsieur d’Orsay behind her, his erect cock held out for insertion in her cunt or anus, but he wasn’t. He was gone.
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