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One by one, seemingly in time with her pounding
heart, the falling droplets joined their puddled brethren as cold, damp
air bit at Sonjas exposed flesh, leaving it covered with a flock of
ivory goose bumps.If one has a lot of goose bumps, shouldnt they be called geese bumps, she wondered.Ones mind did tend to wander when options
were so limited.
Not exactly a penthouse at the Waldorf Astoria;
Saturday night, spread-eagle atop a giant leather covered X, blindfolded
and bound at neck, hand and foot good restraints too mind you, the
really expensive double locking steel gear usually reserved for the
most dangerous of the dangerous.She
grinned. Although it had been seven years since she wore
a Stasi uniform, six years since The Wall
came down, four years since she immigrated to Montreal
and 19 months since a rainy night in GayVillage where an
absurdly rich drunk in a McLaren F1 took her
sight and separated her husband from the lower half of his body.In a way it was high praise to still be treated
so gingerly, lest she break loose and make use of all that DDR training to erase the lot of them from existence.
Silently, she chuckled to herself.The situation reminded her of the cover of one
of her husbands X-Men comic books; Wolverine,
crucified on a huge wooden X in the Australian Outback near Uluru if she remembered right.Here she was, held much like her fellow
Canuck, except he was allowed the dignity of clothing.Why do
male prisoners in the movies always get to keep their clothes,even down to things like boots and leather
jackets, while women are stripped of everything but their undergarments
and frequently even of those? She
wiggled as much as the restraints would allow, trying to generate some
warmth from movement, and then paused, imagining how she must look.Ah, just
answered my own question, she thought with a smile.By smell, she knew no one else in the room,
but she was almost certainly being watched via camera.Inadvertently she had been putting on a show
for her captors: writhing naked on the table, nipples painfully erect
and back slightly arched to keep her tailbone above the cold metal exposed
by a strategically placed hole in the leather covering the table.The answer to the question was that women could
look sexy tied up in a cold room; men would look laughable.
Then the torture began.No, it didnt consist of electrodes, leaches
or bamboo shoots under her nails.It
was much more insidious and totally unplanned.An itch.She provided more entertainment twisting her hips and thrusting
them upward in a futile attempt to scratch against the air the tortured
spot between her navel and the triangle of wispy black curls.
Click-click . . . . clank!The sound of a heavy locks tumblers falling
into place alerted her to the arrival of visitors.The sound would be imperceptible to most, but
the darkness that was now her incessant companion had cast a magnifying
glass over her picture of the world, amplifying every taste, scent,
sound and sensation.In contrast
to the well lubricated lock, the heavy, iron door opened with a mournful
metallic groan, ushering in a warm breeze that caressed her right side
while the left shivered in the seemingly exaggerated cold.The sensation was like a photographic negative of her 16th
birthday party; she was in heaven, neck deep in the steaming hot tub
as Johannes Befruchten stood in the pool, leaning over the brick divider
to deliver a breathtaking, hormone stirring kiss . . . until her little
sister, aided plunged into the pool two feet away, delivering an icy
wave across her overheated teenage body.Damn that boy could kiss, she fondly recalled.
That damn, incessant itch, punctuated by the
bespattering tap of high healed boots on water covered concrete, snapped
her back to reality, where an alluring, exotic fragrance teased her
nostrils.She drew it in deeply, savoring an eclectic
blend of natural aromas untainted
by the stench of industrial imitators.A sigh of appreciation escaped her lips.Ummmm.I love your perfume, whats it called?
RuhGulab, responded a delicate,
feminine voice in an unfamiliar, lyrical accent.Kind of Aussie, kind of Kiwi, kind of Dutch,
kind of Southern American, yet kind of none-of-the-above. It is the most precious of Indian ittars, the woman purred,a blend of rose
and sandalwood oils along with 60 other fruits, flowers and spices.The voice orbited Sonja in a slow sauntered.Did you know it took over a kilo of rose petals,
harvested at dawn when their fragrance is strongest, just to make what
Im wearing right now?And sandalwood
oil . . . there are but a precious few liters harvested each year, no
matter what the price.It was
discovered centuries ago by Noorjahan, the wife of the Mughal emperor Jahangir.A fragrance
truly fit for a queen.Are you
a queen Sonja?
Of sorts, she remarked wryly.Why not?She
was a third cousin, twice removed to Queen Margrethe IIof Denmark;
or was it second cousin, three times removed?She could never remember.
Well, then by all means, we must tend to our
Queen, her lady caller whispered seductively.
The soft rustle of cloth followed by the unmistakable
opening of a glass-stoppered vial preceded
a rush of the intoxicating scent.The
moistened glass applicator was traced delicately across Sonjas neck
and down between her breasts, eliciting a shiver as cold flesh reacted
to the tickle of even colder glass.
Im sorry, is that cold? she asked with seemingly
Sonja nodded while stifling a shiver.Freezing actually, but it does smell nice.
her visitor stated in a demanding yet playful tone raised
to address another.As doenek warm binnebevroredogter?
An intercom crackled to life, high and to her
left. Be creative my dear,
a digitally distorted baritone quipped in response.
Water, perhaps an inch, sloshed around the
perfume owners feet as she continued to sashay around Sonja. Hoe jouverlang, she retorted mischievously
to the unseen voice.
A silence, three or four breaths in length,
was punctuated by the onset of a distant mechanical hum.The hum led to a whoosh.The whoosh to a cascade of
warm air, forced into the room from multiple angles.
Just as the flock of goose bumps had begun
to fly south, they came back with a vengeance.Enhancing the play of coal and warm air on her flesh, a long
feather stroked up her cheek, along her ear, down her throat and between
her breasts eliciting another shiver, this one unrelated to the quickly
Drip, drip, drip.The waters pace seemingly accelerated, speeding to match her
quickening heartbeat.She swallowed
and instinctively closed her eyes to focus on suppressing any further
involuntary displays.Her captors did not deserve the satisfaction.The feather continued its exploration, spiraling
up each firm, sensitive mound; teasing the thick and, for an entirely
different reason, still erect nipple.
Hmmmm, perhaps youre
still chilled to the bone on the inside, her visitor, turned tormentor,
Sonjas eyes flew open and a gasp leapt from
her lips as a slick, latex clad finger slipped between the folds of
her womanhood, the gloved palm firmly grinding against her mound as
the finger teased the rapidly moistening opening.Damn, she thought, its not difficult to find which buttons to push when theyre all lit up
nothing like making it easy for them.She tried to clamp her thighs shut, but the task was impossible
against restraints that could hold a dozen men.
Ah, maybe there is a spark after all, the
teaser cooed.The feather continued
down Sonjas belly, dallying at the recently pierced navel; a rather
cute innie if Sonja did say so herself.The feather and hand disappeared.The boots sloshed through the water, taking
the woman toward Sonjas feet.The
trick is to coax a raging fire from but an ember.
in control of this body, not you lady,Sonja thought defiantly.Think
of . . . umm . . . uhhh . . . differential
calculus.That should do it.
The finger returned to her mons, tracing the triangular boundary of the dark, gossamer
Sonja let out a slow, calming exhale.Ok.
If time-derivativenotation is replaced instead
notation. . . the Euler-Lagrange differential equation
becomes. . . becomes . . .
A second finger joined the first as both explored
her intimate jungle.
. . . becomes . . . oh shit!
One began stroking her rebelliously stiffening
clitoris while the other went straight for her opening, pausing at the
disobediently blossoming petals before brazenly plunging in to the third
knuckle and curling upward to stroke the washboard of her g-spot.
Sonjas mind struggled to focus, causing her
body to ask Why are you fighting this?
She forced herself to concentrate.Find the
by performing an indefinite integration. . .
The finger stroking her swollen love-button
was replaced with a warm and skillful tongue that danced a sensuous
tango through her puffy sweetness as the digit buried within her was
joined by a second; twisting and plunging in unison.
Drip-drip-drip-drip.The falling water raced ever faster with her heart.. . . by expanding the differential of a product of
. . . ungh . . . she gulped, searching
for her thoughts a known . . .
integral and find . . . fin . . . fi. . . OH . . . ohhhh fuck it!
The tongue eagerly lapped nectar from her dewy
folds as the two fingers continued their snaking dance within her, straining
to probe ever deeper, fluttering about her cervix.A shudder of delight escaped her womb and careened through every
muscle with the relaxing warmth whiskey in ones belly on a cold night.
The tongue was replaced with a silky mouth
bounded by warm, full lips that drew-in her engorged clit.Like a blooming rose, her opening yielded to
a third finger, drawing the intruder in to join the party.The dancing tongue withdrew momentarily as the
fingers energetically assaulted her opening, pistoning
vigorously into her delicate opening.
Ember no more, the flames of desire roared
to an inferno in her belly.Sonja
thrust her hips desperately into the womans feverish ministrations
in a frantic quest for satisfaction.A fourth finger joined the assault on her womanhood, obscenely
hammering Sonjas entrance as the velvety mouth voraciously devoured
her petite, cock-like nub.
Nerves twitched sporadically, the unmistakable
herald of a wonderful, mind-searing, body wrenching orgasm.
That will do Liselle,
the demon-like digital baritone boomed over the intercom.It appears you discovered how warm a frozen
girl after all.
Lips and fingers obediently withdrew.The woman circled toward Sonjas head and whispered
in her lilting, but now breathless accent, I know Im not your type,
but if the fire still burns when theyre done, Id love to finish things.Moist, pouting lips brushed softly against Sonjas for an instant,
then departed, leaving Sonja a hint of her
own passion induced ittar.
The womans footsteps faded into the distance,
through the water and onto dry concrete, fading as soft, but heavy footfalls
approached.The new visitor splashed
roughly into the room a man this time; a large man . . . strangely
without shoes.Cutting through
the scent of her arousal, she caught the aroma of Irish Spring soap.At least
he showered.A massive hand
gently cupped her entire right breast, gingerly kneading the pert flesh
as if it might explode under his touch.
The hand withdrew as more footsteps, accompanied
by murmurs and laughter drew loudly up the hallway.She listened intently.Four, maybe three; possibly five others paused
at the doorway.The echoing made
it difficult tell how many for sure.At least the room was quite warm by now,
apparently the cold had been reserved for her.Two of the figures entered the room
Go on Dan, coaxed a French-accented man from
the doorway, I believe Liselle has her quite
ready.One of the new entrants
drew up between Sonjas legs, running strong, yet nervously trembling
hands up each leg.The pulsing
mushroom of his manhood pressed tentatively against her still hungry
is the game, she thought,
then let the prey master the hunter.She drew the steel-hard member inside her with a single thrust
of her athletic hips.Spurred by his inexperience and her aggressiveness
he immediately buried the impressive length within her, and grasping
her hips, frantically assailed her like a crazed rabbit out to service
the entire hutch before breakfast.
Slow down . . . Daniel, enjoy the ride, she
cooed reassuringly, mothering instinct blending with a single-minded
drive for release.
He slowed to a still energetic rhythm, pairing
two thrusts to each of her rapid heartbeats.Is . . . this, he gulped in a mix of excitement
and fear, OK?The poor boy
was already starting to twitch.
The prey closed in for the kill. Yes baby,
youre doing great.She thrust
back at him, driving him deeper, taking advantage of his length to hit
the spot.The twitching became trembling and his breathing
verged on hyperventilating.Her
release was not so imminent.Thats
it love . . .just a little faster
He quickened his already lightening pace.The jugular was exposed.The prey struck.Oh Daniel . . . YES!YES! Fuuuuckmmeeeee!!! her voice quavered, as she thrust back at him
with equal verve.
His trembling instantly tuned to spasms as
he cried Jeeessssuuusss!Sonja flinched as spurt after spurt of searing
cream showered her insides.He
collapsed at the waist, laying his perspiring head at her bosom.Though she could not see him, she tenderly stroked
his hair with her cheek for a minute as his breathing slowed and he
softened within her.
As a round of applause and cheering erupted
from his colleagues, her lover sprang upright and withdrew.The outburst helped her pin it down; definitely
four other men; two in the room and two in the hall.She heard a hand slap the young mans back followed
by Congratulations.Youre a man, in a British accent.Now stand aside, its my turn.
As the Brit took his place between her legs,
one of the men left in an odd gait accompanied by the rhythmic squeak
of rubber wheels on cement, both fading as they departed down outer
and then there were three.Where
the hell did he go? She pondered.
Strong, sure hands brought her back to the
moment, caressing smooth legs, strong hips and a taught belly.As the spongy thickness of his tool popped into
her now well lubricated tunnel, he embraced her petite form possessively
as his mouth expertly tended to her prized, yet heretofore neglected
This hunter was craftier, more experienced,
but the prey would not be dissuaded.He would be hers, before she was his.Pride was at stake.While
it would be tough with hands, feet and neck pinned to the table, her
arsenal was not empty.
Strong hips began a slow, deliberate rhythm
with his shorter but much thicker organ.Oh God!She cried breathlessly.Well,
he did feel damn good, but this was war and she was NOT going to climax
before he did.Kiss me . . . please, she passively begged.He shifted upward and found her parted lips.She kissed the unknown man with surprising passion, discovering
her lips to be yet another neglected asset.Tongues fenced passionately, interrupted by his gasp as she squeezed
his girth with her velvet glove, stroking him hands-free.
His body twitched.She grinned.
Her tongue traced a line up his jaw, finding
his ear.She shuddered.Damn.Not yet . . . focus girl!You are SO big,
she whispered demurely, her tongue swirling in his ear.He shivered and his pace quickened.The thick intruder stirred her honey pot to boiling.Unnnngh, she
grunted.Im so close baby.She quickened her breathing and squeezed his
manhood, hoping to stay one step ahead off her own impending climax.
He pulled away from her tongue, and grasping
her hips for added leverage began pounding away at her gushing pussy.Another shudder of delight escaped and caressed
actual breathing caught-up with her act.Time to pull out the secret weapon.Oh
god . . . the honey of feigned distress dripped from her cry.Please . . . please pull out! she begged with
unprotected . . . dont . . . Tears worthy of an Academy Award streamed
down her cheeks.Then came
the faux orgasm.Unnnnhhhh
. . . mmmmmm . . .please . . .ooohhhh
. . . you cant . . . she whispered between breathy moans, you cant
. . . and then she screamed . . . PUT A BABY IN MY BELLY!.
He slammed into her once and quivered; a second
time and shuddered.Her womb
fluttered again.Her body was
threatening to betray her.Thankfully,
the hunter faltered, hed missed his chance and the prey tasted victory.With a third, convulsing thrust the Brit erupted,
blasting her garden with jet after jet of thick, blistering cream.A dozen diminishing twitches later, the slick,
velvet glove of her womanhood triumphantly released him with an audible
down, one to go, she thought, savoring her private laurels.
Go on Karl, she all yours mate, the Brit
I muuhh . . . mmmm . . . might hurt her, he stammered in a deep, booming,
yet gentle and nervous voice.
The intercom boomed to life with the faux satanic
voice, I dont think that will be a problem.On the contrary, I think it is she that may break you!
The mans sides brushed against each of her
wide-spread legs and he approached her treasure.If I hhhaaa . . .hurt you, let me know and Ill stop.I dont want to huuurrr
. . . huuurrr . . . hurt ya.
That damn misplaced mothering instinct resurfaced.Dont worry about me Karl.Im
tougher than I look and when I finally get out of these restraints,
I will walk just fine.Are you a big boy Karl?She heard what sounded like nodding.Show me.Ive
been saving everything up for you.
Huge hands grasped her thighs and a massive
erection pressed against the engorged fullness of her sheath.He felt like a baseball bat.Thats my baby, I
want to feel all of you.Just
bury yourself in me and do what feels good.You wont hurt me, I promise.Encouraged, he pressed in with all his weight, squeezing the
monster past the enflamed petals of her flower, causing a shudder as
the bulbous head popped into her. Inch by inch he filled her tunnel, displacing
the mixed load of her, the Brits and Daniels cum, causing the viscous
mixture to ooze out and run down her legs.Her head swam, it felt so good to be
so full.This time she wanted to the hunter to catch
her, though it looked like she may have to place herself in his teeth.
The massive cockhead
pressed against her cervix, bottoming out and stretching her to accommodate
his entirety.His enormity mixed
a measure of pain with the pleasure, surprisingly adding to the heady
excitement felt by an already overwhelmed body crying out for release.
The mammoth tool began to withdraw, taking
her velvety inner flesh with it.This
was going to be a ride unlike any since . . . since her husband had
hammered her against the hotel room window as theyd watched the gay
pride parade snake by; his seed had still been warm within her when
they stepped out onto the rain soaked sidewalk.It seemed so long ago; so long without a man filling her like
he had.They had been so passionate,
so energetic making love.Why did
we wait to start a family?It
should have been him filling me tonight. Her
husband was like a giant and she but a tiny ragdoll,
and all she should do when he sensed the end was near was to hold on
for dear life as her stallion bolted for the stables; she adored it
that way, and so she rode this runaway horse without reins or saddle.All she could do was hold on and talk the steed
Yes love, thats it.youre doing great.She wanted so desperately to touch his face
and wrap her legs around his waist.However, the agony of restraint only added to the feverish angst
of the nights activity.She
imagined her womanhood splayed obscenely around his colossal meat, lips
darting inside her on every thrust; each backstroke exposing dripping,
pink walls to the cool, unfamiliar air outside her body.She shuddered.She was
ready . . . so ready for release.Her
breasts ached for attention she knew would only come from her own hand
Her lovers confidence grew with each stroke.Tentative strokes became emboldenedthrusts which matured into a not so delicate
fucking which carried her not over the falls, but across a stormy sea
on a long, turbulent, exhilarating voyage.Her body appreciatively gushed nectar about the hunter, quickening
his assault and laying her throat bare for the kill.The giants heavy breathing became grunts and
his thrusts became more deliberate and. . .dare she hope, shaky?Oh yes, land was near.Mmmhffmh
. . . oh-oh-oh . . . oooooommmmyyyyyggggod!She was shocked byt
the loudness of her own voice.True
tears cascaded down her cheeks.Her
muscles shook erratically, uncontrollably, and then all at once the
universe was reborn before her sightless eyes.All that she was at that instant lay between her legs, it drove
every thought she could muster and delivered every sensation she could
perceive.Her heart beat in unison with each pulse of
Heat flooded her.Yes, the monster assailing her gates had spilled
its life into her.Hunter devoured
prey; prey devoured hunter.Her own cum streamed from her with equal vigor, mixing with
his seed. Though she felt every
twitch, jerk and tremor of his spent manhood, she lost count of the
number. Much like first assailant, her younger pupil
lay his head at her breast for many minutes, spent and seeking
something more than just animalistic release so she gave it to him.
Again, the moment was interrupted by the damn
intercom, spewing its digitally distorted hellspawn
you for your services, but it is time to go home.
With obvious regret, Karl finally withdrew
from her, depleted and softening.The
sum of the evenings ecstasy followed, pouring from her, joining the
pooled water droplets that had continually paced her now speeding heart.
She lay, covered in sweat and semen, panting
to regain breath that usually returned immediately.
The door closed behind the conquered and retreating
hunters, leaving her with the synchronized meter of calming heartbeat
and dripping water.She smiled,
finally satiated.Not bad for
a prisoner, eh? she pridefully taunted aloud.
The intercom crackled to life, digital camouflage
now gone.Bravo!Yes love, indeed.Now that was an incredible performance.He paused.So,
same time next month?
The restraints clicked in succession releasing
the exhausted captive.Sonja
stretched her neck and limbs before slumping back on the table and laughing.Sure honey, its a date . . . but after that pounding, one of
those swimmers HAD to make it home.Maybe the first time will be the charm.
I sure hope so, the speaker hummed.The voice turned to address another, Etienne,
please wheel me down to my wife . . . and child to be.