With an ironic expression on her pert, pretty face, Liz eyed her reflection in the big mirror beside the bed of her motel room.
All of her young life she'd dreamt of having fine, fashionable clothes. Being an orphan, and being the ward of a self-styled minister who frowned – or so he'd always claimed – upon females adorning their bodies in sinful fashions, had kept that a faraway hope with little chance of realization.
Rut now things had changed. Danny made another of his girls – the slim, olive-skinned Elena – take her out to buy clothes. Price was no object, the dapper little man had declared. He wanted his merchandise wrapped in an appealing package.
So now Liz had the elegant, exquisite wardrobe she'd always desired. All it had cost her was her freedom.
Now she was waiting once more for the knock on the door, which meant that whoever had paid – and paid well – for the privilege of using or abusing her young body any way they saw fit, had arrived. She scanned herself once more, trying to gain at least some satisfaction from the way she looked.
She was quite a vision by anybody's standards. Her height was accentuated by high-heeled black sandals, with straps that wound high up her shapely calves. Filmy pants the color of burgundy came low down her legs. Her blouse was a pale blue, with long, full sleeves. It was sheer enough so that the white of her big tits and the dark nipples crowning them could be seen when the light hit her right. From certain angles, the dark triangular thatch of her pussy fur could be seen in a tantalizing light through the pants.
It was an outfit guaranteed to drive any red blooded male crazy with desire.
A brisk rap at her door made her heart flutter. She put a slim hand up to her throat. Would her client be another handsome young man like Jamie? She laughed at herself for being naive enough to imagine that she could have that kind of luck twice.
She'd grown up a lot in the past few days.
The knock sounded again, impatiently. She didn't think that was a very good omen. Outside, it was evening. The blazing glare of daylight had gone, and a cool breeze cut through the dull heat the day had laid down. Two people stood on the concrete walkway in front of Liz's room. Behind them the pool lapped and gurgled complacently.
They were not at all what the auburn-haired adolescent had expected. One was a man who looked to be in his early middle age, his body leather-skinned but firm like a much younger man. He had wide cheekbones, a great vulture's beak of a nose, and straight jet-black hair worn relatively long for a man of his age. There was no grey in the hair, but it was thinning on top, and he'd brushed strands over the bald spot in an attempt to cover it. He had a coral-colored choker around his neck and a massive silver watchband with a coral inset. An Indian jewelry dealer, Liz guessed, and a well to do one by his looks.
But it was his companion that made Liz's eyes widen and her breath stick in her throat.
His companion was a woman, at least six feet tall, Liz thought. Her long, lithe body was slender, almost gaunt. She was clad in a denim suit, with a long-sleeved jacket and calf-length skirt. The jacket was open. Her pointy jugs were encased in a double-knit tube top that left her pale shoulders bare. Her hair was a gleaming black mass, darker even than the man's, so that it looked blue-black, like a squid's ink.
But the most compelling thing about her was her eyes. Liz had always been vain about her own eyes; the deep brown contrasting with the red-brown luster of her hair had always made a stunning combination. But the woman's eyes were pale grey, so pale as to be almost colorless. They were strange and striking beneath her midnight hair.
They also had a dangerous look in them that made Liz grow cold.
"Hi," she said, trying to sound bright and cheerful. "I'm Liz. Come on in and…"
The man reached into a pocket of his custom-cut jeans and pulled out a bag of tobacco and some papers. "Shut up, bitch," he told the girl. Liz blinked. "Make her shut up, Wanda."
The tall girl stalked forward. Her hand smashed down across Liz's face. With a startled cry, the girl reeled back into the room.
Her face blank, Wanda followed her. The nameless man brought up the rear, thoughtfully shutting the door behind him. Uncertain of her balance on her high heels, Liz staggered back against the dresser. She touched her cheek lightly with her fingertips. The skin was hot to the touch.
In a sudden rush of anger, Liz completely forgot Danny's instructions. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded angrily. "You think you can just come in here and…"
The man glanced up from rolling a cigarette. "I told you to shut up," he said. "Use her, Wanda."
The black-haired woman spoke for the first time. "Bare your tits, slut." Her eyes met Liz's in an unblinking gaze. As the black-haired woman unslung a heavy leather bag from her shoulder, Liz found her fingers moving helplessly to obey.
The girl had no intention of performing a lewd striptease for this strange couple. She didn't feel very cooperative, but she had the impression that Wanda meant her command to be obeyed, as rapidly as possible. Her fingers fumbled. She looked down, working the buttons of the powder blue blouse as quickly as she could. Her tits swung free of the blouse, luscious globes of white flesh tipped with copper circles of her nipples.
Wanda was taking something out of the bag. To the adolescent's horror, a quick wrist-flick revealed a cat-o'-nine-tails. A cluster of leather strands sprang from a single leather-wrapped handle. The end of each strand had a wicked-looking big knot tied in it. Liz imagined those vicious knots digging into her bare flesh, and cringed.
Wanda let her bag drop to the floor, and kicked it aside with a booted foot. "Now, bitch," she said, a gleam of evil interest coming into those colorless eyes, "eat my pussy!"
Her free hand swept down and threw open the front of her denim skirt, slit from hem to waist.
Beneath it she was as naked as Liz was beneath her pants. Liz gasped. The bush of Wanda's pussy was as black as her hair, and incredible luxuriant. The thick black thatch of cunt fur was spread well up her pale belly, and tufted down hair was between her lanky thighs. All Liz could do was shake her head wordlessly as her stomach did slow acrobatics.
"You've never eaten cunt?" Liz shook her head as the other laughed. "Well, every little girl ought to learn how to eat pussy. On your knees, slut!"
Liz found her voice: "You're out of your mind," she snapped without thinking. "I won't…"
The whip moved so fast that Liz never saw it until it raked across her naked boobs like leopard's claws. The girl shrieked and clutched at her lashed boobs. Burning pain pulsed in her ample tits, and stabbed through her lungs like a thousand hot needles. Her eyes brimming hot, agonized tears, she looked down at her wounded boobs, expecting to see the delicate skin of her huge tits lacerated and torn.
The white skin of her juicy jugs was still intact, but almost a dozen angry red welts glowed across the front of the jutting tits. They looked almost like a strange net bikini top covering her boobs – except that her nipples stuck out rigidly, swollen with pain as they'd have swelled with pleasure, had a lover's tongue licked her tits instead of nine wicked leather thongs.
She looked up again at her tormentor. Wanda's beautiful face was a mask of unholy exultation. "Nobody says won't to me, bitch!" the tall woman said, her low voice ringing. "Now, get on your knees and get your face dirty. Lick my pussy good!"
Despite the pain in her tits, Liz rebelled. She just couldn't face the prospect of shoving her face into the dripping, reeking mat of Wanda's pussy! And dripping it was, though not the faintest hint of her pink pussy lips showed through the dense thatch of cunt hair between Wanda's thighs. The cunt fur was dewed with pussy oils, and a thin trickle of cunt juice ran down one sculptured, curvy thigh.
Liz could easily smell the other woman's horny, oozing cunt. Her pussy sauce was rank and sharp, smelling slightly like spoiled meat. It sickened the girl.
Her hands covered her big tits. The sweat on her palms stung the welts left by the nine-thonged whip, but it was better than having them stung again by the multiple lash.
When the girl didn't respond, Wanda's face contorted with anger. She swung her arm again. Liz heard a brief whine like a flight of bumblebees, and then the cat-o-nine-tails slashed across her crotch. The knotted thongs shredded right through the thin fabric of her beautiful, expensive pants to flay the forested pussy mound beneath.
Liz shrieked and fell to her knees. She pressed one hand between her thighs, cupping her violated pussy, the other barely covering both of her abused jugs at once. The top of her thighs and her lower belly throbbed with searing pain, and so did her cunt. She felt bare flesh and pussy hair beneath her palm – the whip had literally stripped the front of her pants away from her cowering body.
Liz rocked back and forth on her knees, crooning to herself a mindless song of agony. Wanda, her eyes burning with torture-lust, took two catlike steps forward and grabbed a big handful of Liz's auburn hair, ripping it loose from the neat knot at the back of her neck.
The front of her denim dress started to close. With savage strength, she yanked the teenager's head forward so that Liz's face was buried in the rank, wet cunt fur the instant before the skirt closed around her.
Liz felt something sopping-wet rub over her lips. She pressed them tightly shut and turned her face away. Cunt juice smeared across her cheek. She put her small hands against Wanda's cool thighs and shoved with all her might.
Losing her balance, Wanda staggered back. Liz lurched to her feet, but the whip sang its vicious song and her tits flared with new, horrible pain. Half-turning, Liz dropped to her knees, cradling her agonized boobs in her arms.
Like the breath of a blowtorch, the whip licked across her vulnerable asscheeks. As it had when Wanda had stroked it across her victim's pussy, the whip tore the cloth stretched over Liz's pert buttcheeks to pieces, and etched fiery lines across the snowy mounds of her ass.
Liz howled and fell to the floor. She racked back and forth, rolling from her back to her belly and over again, trying to protect her tender ass, tits, and aching pussy all at the same time.
It was a hopeless task. When Liz pressed her hand over her lush rump to ward off the whip, the leather cut agonizingly at the back of her hand as it ripped at her asscheeks. When the shrieking adolescent tried to clamp her thighs together to save her pulverized pussy, the whip slashed at them in a whirlwind of blows till she pried them apart in a tortured reflex.
The blow across her naked, gaping cunt that followed seemed to tear the fragile pussy lips clean away from her cunt. But all the whip had done was to fill the tender twat lips with an agony like liquid fire. Wanda slashed at the girl's big boobs till the pale titflesh glowed a red darker than the girl's sunburn. The kiss of the knotted leather made the writhing captive's nipples explode with pain. Each blow of leather against inflamed flesh was somehow unendurably worse than the last.
"Oh! Ow! STO-O-OP!" Liz's cries rang so loudly that she was sure any other tenants in the motel complex would have heard her. But if anyone had heard her agonized pleas for mercy, no one responded, no one except the tail, beautiful sadist, whose tits swung ponderously as she flailed her lash against her victim's tender skin – and the dark man, who stood by, smoking casually, his eyes black beads of lustful interest, the fly of his white jeans bulging with his swollen cock.
For Wanda, whipping the screaming girl was a sexual pleasure nearly as intense as having the captive eat her pussy would be! When the nine vicious tongues of black leather sank deep into the globe of her juicy tit, it was as if a lover's tongue had caressed Wanda's own jutting jug. When the swell of Liz's lush butt was scored by the lash, Wanda's taut ass thrummed with ecstasy. When the cat lapped at the girl's pussy and made her arch her back in a horrid parody of passion, Wanda's own pussy gushed hot cunt honey.
But the man was beginning to fidget. Out of the corner of her pale eyes, Wanda saw him start to frown. She knew the signals; he was getting bored. He wanted the spectacle to get on to other things, and he didn't want the merchandise too badly damaged – not before he'd had a chance to sample it as well.
It was time to stop the whipping. Wanda thought of what the man would do to her if he were displeased. The resultant pang of terror began in her brimming cunt and shot upward through her belly like a sharp spear of ice. But the thought of the agony she would suffer if she made her man angry – so much worse than what this pathetic, groveling child now found so unbearable – also produced a wild, masochistic thrill in Wanda's hot body.
But she wasn't ready for the final step, not yet. And the captive would be only too happy to obey her, now.
Just when Liz knew she'd die – or go mad – if her body had to undergo another minute of the brutal whipping, the hailstorm of blows thankfully ceased. She lay on her stomach, her pink, inflamed buttcheeks sticking up in the air. She still had on her open blouse and high-laced sandals, but her tight pants were now no more than a few miserable tatters of cloth clinging to her legs. The pounding of pain in her asscheeks was so fierce that it was only the lack of the distinctive ripping sound of the lash tearing into her ass that made her realize a new blow had not landed.
Sobbing, her eyes red and puffy from weeping, she lifted her head and looked up at her tormentor. The whip still dangling from one finely-manicured hand, Wanda leaned back with her stately ass propped up against a dresser.
Once more she swept open the front of her denim skirt. Her dense black cunt bush was matted, completely soaked with the sticky juices that flowed from her pussy. She had been turned on almost to the point of agony by whipping the now nearly-naked captive. Her pussy begged for release.
"Now," she said, "are you ready to lick my pussy?"
Without conscious thought, Liz nodded.
The adolescent lacked the strength to rise, but she knew what would happen if she kept the woman waiting. She started to wriggle, forward on her belly, like a snake. The touch of the rough carpet on her tender tits was utter torment, but even that was better than feeling that awesome whip bite at her whipped tits or cunt again!
She groveled between Wanda's outstretched legs, trying to gather the strength to lift herself. Wanda waited, her jaw clenched, as though against some torment. She was too horny now to whip Liz again, unless the girl willfully disobeyed. She didn't want to do anything that might keep those luscious lips away from her cunt a second longer than was necessary!
Liz hauled herself up to a kneeling position. Wanda's cunt was only inches away from her eyes. The smell of hot, wet pussy was overwhelming, choking thick in her nostrils. Her stomach was awash with nausea. As though moving through molasses, she extended a trembling finger and touched the cunt bush. A drop of pussy sauce ran along her finger and dripped to the floor.
Wanda shivered with anticipation. A hot wave of cunt-small, stronger than ever, washed over Liz, threatening to swamp her senses. The urge to flee was almost too much to resist. But the memory of pain, all to recent, kept her in place, kneeling before the altar of that black-furred cunt.
She'd already taken part in one lesbian act, she knew. She had let Janet Dolby eat her pussy, and hadn't fought back – just the opposite! But that was passive. All she'd needed to do was sit there and let the redhead's lips and tongue work their magic on her needy pussy. She couldn't really have resisted even if she'd wanted to, but here, she'd have to take an active role. The thought made her feel faint.
But the whip… there was always the whip! Liz put both hands to Wanda's pussy and began to part the jungle of cunt fur. Wanda moaned and writhed. At least this won't take long, the girl told herself, sensing the closeness of the other woman to climax. Her fingertips touched her slick pussy lips. A shudder racked Wanda's lean frame. Liz probed with her thumbs, found the moist, rubbery cuntlips, and spread the woman's pussy wide open.
Like an exotic pink flower blooming in some dark rain-forest, Wanda's cunt spread its petals before Liz's wondering eyes. The pallid pink pussy meat was startlingly light against the midnight black of the cunt fur. The fragrance of the twat formed an almost visible barrier between the girl's hot lips and the waiting pussy.
I can't do it! Liz thought. I can't!
Something touched the back of her head. She jerked, choking back a scream of fear. It was only Wanda's hand, stroking her victim's head with surprising gentleness, urging it lightly toward her hot pussy. There was no use in stalling the inevitable, so Liz took a deep, cunt-flavored breath, and dove head-first into the gaping well of Wanda's wet pussy.
"Yiii!" the tall brunette shrieked as Liz's lips nipped at the juicy lips of her pussy. Instinctively, her long, slim legs slammed shut around the teenager's moving head, trapping her in a prison of white, resilient thigh flesh. The whip dropped from trembling fingers as the girl's mouth began to work on the mouthful of cunt she'd taken in.
"Yesss!" Wanda hissed. One hand held Liz's face to her pussy, while the other raked at her own bare thigh like the sharp talons of a maddened beast.
Liz's mouth was filled with squirming wet cuntlips. For a moment all she tried to do was to eject the pussy flaps with her tongue, as she writhed to get free of the sudden tight embrace of Wanda's thighs. Her senses were overwhelmed by the concentration of the cunt-smell, cunt-taste, cunt-feel.
She had to get away! But Wanda's legs and hands held Liz tight in place. And after the first shock of intimate contact between her mouth and face and another woman's pussy, Liz had to admit to herself that the flavor and feel of a hungry cunt wasn't all that bad.
Her tongue flickered over the slit of Wanda's hot cunt. She felt the tension shoot through the woman's quivering thighs as her pussy gushed cunt oils to soak her teasing tongue. Not bad at all, she thought as her tastebuds sent a message to her brain about the good flavor of the shiny pussy juice.
In fact, the black-haired woman's cunt was delicious!
Abruptly, Liz felt her own cunt begin to water with horniness. There was no way she could avoid eating this marvelous pussy now. If she balked at this point, what Wanda would do to her would make the earlier whipping seem like mere love play! So there was no reason in the world she shouldn't just go with the tide and try to enjoy her first experience with eating pussy.
It wasn't hard. The way the touch of her tongue on her sensitive pussy lips brought such an obvious, immediate reaction from Wanda turned her on. The black-haired woman's thighs quivered against the sides of Liz's head as her passion rose to intolerable heights, her fingers toying with the back of the girl's neck, and each new tweak or tease of the tongue attacking her pussy brought a new flood of cunt honey streaming from her cunthole.
Liz's mouth was wide-open, as wide as it had been when she'd swallowed Jamie's cock on that day long ago. It was as if she was actually trying to eat that black-haired pussy for real, biting a chunk out of the tasty cunt as though it was a wedge of furry pie!
Her tongue stroked up and down the slavering slash of Wanda's pussy, driving between the delicate inner cunt flaps where the pussy-flavor was most intense. Now and again she allowed the tip of her stiffened tongue to brush the swollen node of Wanda's clit, knowing, what it did to her.
It had the desired effect on the black-haired woman. In a few laps of her tongue, she had the brunette clawing at the back of her head and banging her pussy against her face, as though trying to fuck herself on that darting, maddening tongue!
Muffled by the walls of Wanda's thighs, she could hear her tormentor shrieking, in the throes of ecstasy. Liz's tongue lashed out at the black-haired woman's pussy as mercilessly as its owner's whip had lashed at hers. And in some dim way, she sensed that the emotions the black-haired woman was undergoing weren't all that different from the ones she'd felt, squirming under the lash.
There was no time for that, though. It seemed that Wanda's pussy opened like a mouth and gathered in her tongue, and as she thrust her tongue willingly into the flooded tunnel of the other's pussy, she felt it collapsing around her tongue with sudden manic urgency.
"Ah! Ohhh!" she heard Wanda shriek. "Eat me! Eat my pussy good! I'm commminng!"
Somehow Liz was not at all surprised when her own pussy clenched abruptly, and she came too.