"I don't know if we should be going," Wil said, leaning close so Clara could hear him over the clatter of the subway. It was a week later, and they were headed for Lois' apartment in the Village.
"Oh, Wil! Don't be a party pooper," Clara grumbled.
"We could have just as good a time at my place," Wil argued. "Besides, she's awful kinky."
"Not that kinky," Clara snapped, remembering how she had been aroused by Lois' tale of the gang rape.
"Grant said he was going to punish her for being late so much," Wil went on. "We shouldn't be there for that."
"Why shouldn't we? If they don't mind?" Clara asked.
"Grant plays kind of rough," Wil answered. "He kind of scares me sometimes."
"Shit. You're just chicken!"
"Watch that," Wil growled.
"Or you'll do what?" Clara taunted, again put off by Wil's lack of forcefulness.
"Just watch it," Wil repeated.
Clara let the subject drop, and instead thought back to the previous weekend. It hadn't been an orgy, really. But it had come close enough for her first time. Then she thought about the way Lois had sucked Grant's cock. The memory of his hard meat between Lois' lips did things to Clara's insides. Grant had been so totally in charge, too. He had clutched Lois' hair and forced her head up and down. His hips had heaved, thrust his cock into her.
The fuck Clara and Wil had shared after that had been their best ever. Better than the slow one the next morning. For a change Wil had been demanding, impatient. But after that night he had gone back to being his usual polite, timid self.
"Fourteenth Street," Wil noted as the train squealed to a hilt. "Next stop."
"You've been to her place before?" Clara asked.
"No, but the directions are rather simple."
At the Fourth Street Station he led her up the maze of ramps and out on to the slushy sidewalk. Then minutes later they were on the top floor of an old loft, and he was ringing the bell at a shining, jet black door. The air was thick with the smell of incense.
The door opened and let loose a blast of music. Lois smiled and yelled something over her shoulder about turning down the volume. She was dressed more exotically than before, though just as erotically. Her shining black hot pants were tightly molded to the roundness of her butt. The bib top left her back completely bare. It fastened at the nape of her neck. It was made of a translucent black stretch lace that covered, but did not conceal, her large, firm breasts.
The music sank to a bearable level, and Lois turned back to them. Clara felt Wil reacting to Lois' sexy outfit, and her aggravation with him increased.
"Doesn't the noise bother the neighbors?" Clara asked, then felt foolish when she recalled that with the door shut, not a whisper had leaked out.
"Not the way I had the place soundproofed," Lois answered. "And besides, there aren't any neighbors."
Clara controlled her urge to tell Wil to stop ogling their hostess and turned her attention to the apartment. It had two rooms, apparently. The one they were in was a living room. It was garishly decorated with strange modernistic paintings and sculpture. Brightly colored pillows of all sizes were scattered over the thick black carpet.
"C'mere, Baby," Grant told Lois. His fingers closed around her ponytail, held her for his kiss. Lois leaned back. Her hands were submissively at her sides as her mouth locked with his. Enviously, Clara studied the domineering lust behind the kiss.
"HI, troops," Grant said cheerfully after breaking the kiss with Lois. He didn't release his grasp on her hair. "Come on, let's go into the studio. Got some good grass tonight."
The studio was even more intriguing then the living room. One huge wall was mirrors. A ballet bar bisected them. At the other end of the room slanting windows revealed the velvet night sky. An easel and paints stood in one corner.
"You paint?" Clara asked Lois, somehow surprised.
"Lois is all things to all people. Aren't you, Babe?" Grant asked her. As she mumbled her agreement, he gave her a pat on the rump and told her to go get the wine. "Lois is an artist, a model, a dancer, and an actress. But above all, a woman."
"It's not hard to see that," Wil said headily. Clara glanced at him sourly.
"Did she furnished this place?" Clara asked.
"Used to be a dance studio and an art school," Lois answered, coming back into the room. "I just asked a few… special features of my own."
As they lounged around talking, Clara wondered what special features Lois meant. She began feeling more favorably inclined toward Wil. He pulled her to him, and curled his hand around the underside of her breast. She was glad she had worn her short lace dress. In it, even though she was wearing bra and panties, she was almost able to compete with Lois. Clara deliberately let the skirt ride up on her thighs and snuggled against Wil. She wished he'd move his hand over her breast. She wanted Grant to know Lois wasn't the only wanton in the world.
"Are you going to beat me for being so late?" Lois asked Grant during a lull in the conversation.
"Of course," Grant said quietly, his eyes locked on hers.
"When?" she asked in her soft, breathy voice. Her big tits were rising and falling tensely. Her nipples were hard as rocks.
"Now," Grant answered.
"Clara?" Wil whispered.
"Oh, shut up, will you?" Clara snapped. "They want us here. Watch! You might learn something."
"Don't hurt me too much," Lois pleaded softly. "No more than you deserve, Baby! Go let down the hook."
"Yes, Grant," Lois whispered, raising gracefully to her feet. She undid a rope from a cleat on the wall and a length of chrome chain descended from the ceiling. After lowering it until it was about four feet off the floor, she handed the end of the rope to Grant.
Clara's chest tightened as Lois obeyed Grant's next calm order. She walked over to the hook, and turned to face them. She fumbled with the end of the chain, and with the black leather ornament that was braided into her hair.
When she lowered her hands to her sides, Grant took a deep drag on the marijuana. He pulled on the rope, and Lois' hair rose. There was a flash of pain on her face as she went up on her toes. Clara felt a wrench of sympathy in her guts, a twinge in her scalp, and a hot sizzling in her pussy.
"Here, hold this," Grant ordered, handing the rope to Wil.
"No, I…"
"I will," Clara said quickly, grabbing the rope out of Grant's hands. "Chicken," she hissed at Wil.
"Let's get out of here," Wil said softly as Grant got up.
"Oh, shut up," Clara snorted, deliberately moving his hand up over her breast and pressing his palm into her soft mound. She wished she hadn't worn a bra.
Using the long, silky coil of Lois' hair, Grant tied her wrists together behind her neck. The position made her breasts lift almost out of her sheer top. Clara felt Wil's grasp on her own boob tighten. She saw a faint cloud of marijuana smoke drift from his mouth. She sucked in a deep drag of her own, and felt her mind fogging as the grass did its work.
Grant took the rope from Clara and wound it around the cleat. Then he stripped off his shirt, and was naked to the waist. His torso was strongly muscled and hard. Clara wriggled lower in Wil's grasp and leaned back against him. She carefully squirmed her dress up so her panties were exposed, then parted her legs a little. Feeling a powerful desire to be in the same position Lois was, Clara sucked in a deep draught of smoke which increased her horniness.
Much to her surprise, Wil reached down and hauled her loose dress up. He bared her panties, and finally her bra, as he bunched her dress under her arms. Grant caught sight of her near nakedness, and studied her boldly.
Then he turned to Lois and reached behind her neck. The front of her outfit dropped to her waist, exposed her magnificent globes. Lois looked up at Grant worshipfully as he fondled her bare jugs. Then he pinched her nipples, and her adoration was tinged with pain and lust.
The sight of Lois' tits really turned Wil on. His hands clutched Clara's tightly. His fingers dug into her through her bra. She reached behind her back with both hands, found the lump of his dick, and squeezed. With both hands behind her, she could pretend she too was bound helplessly.
Lois began writhing as Grant toyed with her tits. It was impossible to tell whether it was from pain or from lust. Her eyes glittered as he pinched and tortured her pink nipples. He twisted and tugged first one, then the other.
His other hand held a short thonged cat-o-nine-tails. Clara wondered where on earth it had come from.
Wil was getting more and more turned on. He had the mouthpiece of the water pipe clamped between his teeth so both his hands were free to work on Clara's aching tits. When he yanked upwards on her bra, she moaned. Her breasts were crushed and mangled as he dragged the bra over them, bunched it with her dress.
Then, amazingly, he wrestled her completely out of her dress and bra. Clara was shocked and incredibly aroused by his unexpected display. She turned half toward him. He grabbed her hands, pulled them, dragged her back against him again.
There was a meaty smut. Clara winced. Grant had swung the whip against Lois' tight gut. She flinched, rocked reflexively away from the blow. Still tormenting her tits, Grant brought the whip around and smacked the small of her back.
"Open my fly," Wil ordered Clara softly.
Fumbling awkwardly, she found his zipper, and managed to loosen it and drag it down. His cock tented up his underpants and jutted into her hands. Frantically, she freed it and got her fingers around it.
She was bare to her waist. She was wearing only panties, garter belt and stockings. She saw Grant glance at her, but did nothing to shield her thinly-covered pussy from him. Wil was fingering her tits, fondling them, pinching and rolling them, sending hot waves of lust through her.
Lois' torso was pinking up from the slow beating she was getting. The blows were obviously just hard enough to sting without really huffing. But the hauling and twisting at her hair as she writhed in reaction to the beating had to be agony. Her total helplessness really appealed to Clara. The idea of being so totally at the mercy of a man made her pussy spasm. She wished Wil had had the sense to tie her hands, instead of leaving them free, so she had to pretend she was helpless in his grasp. He could have used her bra.
Out of the corner of his eye, Grant was keeping track of Wil and Clara. Wil was showing up better than he had expected, but clearly wasn't aware of what he had in his hands. Clara was ripe for the picking if Wil handled it right.
Oh, sure, Wil and Clara had fucked a few times. But Clara was one of those slits that need to be dominated. Which was the reason for this scene with Lois. It had been set up on purpose, not that they didn't frequently enjoy this type of action without any excuse at all.
And he sure was enjoying it. He studied Lois lovingly as she hung there with her hands tied behind her head. Her tits quivered with every stinging stroke of the whip against her gut. She was getting incredibly turned on, more from her helplessness than from the pain.
Grant wondered how Lois would take it if he left her hanging there and went over to Clara. Clara was squirming on the floor in just panties and garter belt and stockings. Christ! What a body she had! Just the right amount of padding to take her soft and desirable.
"What do you think, Baby?" Grant asked Lois. "Is she ripe for it?"
"Forget her, Grant," Lois moaned. "Do me."
Grant pinched one of her tits and watched her eyes haze over with pain and ecstasy. "Is she ripe for it?"
"Yes, Grant," Lois moaned. "But let Wil do her. If you leave me now I don't know what I'll do."
"No sweat, Baby," Grant assured her. "Unless, of course, you get me really pissed."
"I won't, Grant. I promise I won't!"
The devotion and need in her eyes confirmed her statement.
He stroked her taut, drawn body, lifted and pressed her fantastic tits. His cock was as hard as iron. Its chance would came, soon. Very soon.
Giving Lois' pinked gut one last slap with the whip, Grant strolled over to where the rope was fastened to the wail. Undoing it, he cased the tension off a little, so Lois could get her feet flat on the floor. Then he refastened it and went back to her.
"Bend your knees, Baby," he ordered.
"No, Grant, please," Lois pleaded.
"Bend your knees," he repeated. "Or I'll kick your feet out from under you. You know how much that hurts."
"Yes, Grant," she moaned. She bent her knees, slowly, until her hair was drawn tight again.
Grant went and eased the tension on the rope, slowly lowered Lois until her knees were almost touching the floor. But not quite. She was suspended by her hair. Her knees were an inch from the floor. Then he went back to her, and pushed her around sideways so that he could see Wil and Clara and they could see what Lois was doing.
"Open my fly, Baby, and get my dick out," he ordered.
She tugged at her hands, which were still bound behind her neck by her hair.
"Use your mouth," Grant said, grinning down at her.
Lois groaned, and made a thrust at his pants. She swung from the rope and braced her toes against the floor for traction. Her breasts heaved, and a big drop of sweat traced a twisting path down between the big mounds. She managed to close her teeth on the tongue of his belt and shove it free. Grant braced himself as she fought to pt the buckle loose. Finally, she succeeded.
She got the hook at the waist of his pants by twisting her head sideways against the tension in her hair, clamping her jaw on his trousers, and jerking hard.
Then it was just a matter of tonguing up the tab of his zipper and dragging it painfully downwards. His pants loosened. Grant let them drop and gazed down at the jutting lump in his underpants. Lois got a grip on them with her teeth, and hauled them down, lower and lower. His bush sprang into view, then the tip of his dick, which was tilted up against his gut. She squirmed and writhed. The chain fastened to her hair groaned. His pecker tilted out and down, toward her face. She pulled his pants lower, and lower, and lower.
With a final moan of agony and satisfaction, she sagged back and drew her feet under her to take the strain off her hair. Her face was slick with sweat.
"Suck it, Baby," Grant ordered, waving his drooling dick in her face.
With a sigh of pleasure, she complied. Her mouth gaped open as she sought his swaying tool. Her tongue touched his pecker, guided it into her gaping maw. She caressed his dong with her lips and tongue. He felt her teeth gently, very gently, scrape the flesh of his dork. She knew how to do it. Most women were hopeless at sucking cock. Lois knew how he liked it. And she could do it with both hands tied behind her!
She leaned forward, took his dick to the back of her throat. She changed from her squatting position and hung from her hair again, and used the pendulum of hair and chain to swing gently. She slid his dick along her tongue. The stroking caused a hot sizzling in his nuts and knotting in his prostate.
Tearing his eyes off the sight of his dick spearing her mouth, Grant looked over at Clara and Wil. Wil was fondling Clara's naked tits with one hand. His other was buried inside her panties. She was writhing against him. Her hands were behind her back. Grant wondered if Wil had actually tied her.
No. Not Wil. Not yet. She was pretending to be tied, though. Jeez! When would Wil get the message?
As Grant watched, Clara spread her thighs. Grant imagined how her hot twat would feel around his finger. Wil was doing that much, at least.
Lois' tongue swirled around his dork, and Grant's attention came back to her. Her breasts heaved as she sucked his dick. Too bad he hadn't thought to get her naked. But then, there was pleasure in being naked himself, while she was just topless.
Her eyes closed, her face beaded with sweat, Lois sucked on his dick. His nuts began to boil. Her face was a mask of lust as she drew on his meat. He wondered if she was going to cum just from the pain and the humiliation.
She choked and gagged on the monster shaft stuffing her mouth. But she didn't stop. She just sucked harder. The fireball was getting bigger with every hot stroke of her tongue on his pecker. Spit gleamed on her chin. His hips began to push at her, to fuck her face. As his horniness built, he reached down, grabbed her ears, and used them to guide her fucking. He dragged her on and off his cock. He felt the head of his tool jam the back of her mouth. She choked. His balls felt as big as apples they were so loaded with cum.
It was coming; the express train load of jizz was coming. Grant let it loose and held Lois on his cock. She didn't like the taste of cum, and he knew it. That was why he made her do it. He felt his semen spatter her mouth, her tongue, saw her gut knot as she gagged. But she swallowed it. Her tongue rubbed his dork as she gulped down wave after burning wave of cream. His balls twisted, wringing themselves out in her sucking mouth. A dribble of jizz escaped her sucking lips, spilled down her chin, and dripped to the floor. He kept thrusting at her until his guts ached. Then he let go of her ears, let her lick his dick clean.
He glanced over at Clara and Wil. When Clara saw him looking at her, she squirmed around, slid down on Wil. Her mouth sought his jutting cock.
Her lips closed on his hard, hot meat. She felt the blood pulsing in his veins. She tasted his first seepings. She knew Grant was watching her go down on Wil. She gripped Wil's dick and drew his hot shaft into her mouth. Her gut knotted with revulsion as she tried to take more of his throbbing shaft into her mouth.
A clink and rattle distracted her. She looked over and saw Grant release Lois' hair from the overhead chain. Using the loop of hair from her head to her wrists, he hauled her across the floor. Her heels bumped along behind her.
Her gut wrenching with sympathy for her helpless hostess, Clara went back to Wil's cock. She began fondling the tender eggs of his balls. Wil was slouched back on a stack of pillows. His ass tightened, lifted his dick in a fucking motion. His hands came down to caress her head as she sucked him.
Clara traced the groove between cock-head and shaft and felt his cock quiver. She brushed the underside, and felt stinging fluid on her tongue. Her head was filled with the rich stink of his juice. She pressed against the underside of his cock, pinched it against the roof of her mouth, against the sharp edge of her upper teeth.
Wil groaned. His fingers curled in her hair, gathered a fist-full of her soft locks. He began guiding her head in an up and down motion. His hips thrust in counterpoint, drove his dick-head bruisingly, gaggingly, to the back of her mouth. Clara rose and tipped her head so she could get his prick down her throat. She wanted to swallow his thrusting shaft. She fingered his nuts and twisted and gulped. An inch at a time, she gained on the enormous block of meat.
Her breasts hanging, her ass high, Clara swallowed cock. She fingered Wil's balls, willed his cumming. She wanted his spurts to spray her throat, to boil in her stomach, to flood her mouth and coat her gullet.
She felt his balls knot up against his groin. The first thick mass burst over her tongue, coated her mouth with essence. She gulped, drove his cock to the back of her mouth. She fondled his pulsing, squirting nuts. She choked as a globule of jizz hit her throat. Slurping and sucking, she drew his thick cream from his guts. Deliberately, she let a thick, white drop escape her lips and spill down his cock. She wanted everyone to see what she was swallowing so eagerly, so willingly. Her head was swimming as the cock in her jaw pulsed. She didn't release his pecker until it was shrinking and drained. Then she leaned forward and rested her cheek on Wil's hard belly.