Episode IX
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She lay sprayed on the bed, her arms spread wide over her head, her calves hanging over the side, feet dangling.
Her head spun in a thick grey fog as she panted, her tits tingling as they rose and fall.
She replaced her contact with her throbbing body and touched her shaft, fingers twining through the wet and matted hair.
A smile flickered across her face and, after several passes, finally settled onto her mouth and around her eyes.
Her strength had returned and she lifted herself to sit on the edge of the bed. She cocked her head to the left and let it hang.
Still smiling, she cupped her left breast in her right hand and sat, her left hand still between her legs.
She glanced down, then gazed at her tit. She held it as if to display it.
She watched the nipple harden under the cares of her eyes, and the gentle pressure of her forefinger on the underside of the areola.
Giving her cunt-mound a quiet squeeze, she rose and crossed to the door on her way to eat.
As she stepped into the hall, she heard movement, footsteps and talking. She turned to look and was delighted to see the Nordic Hardbody from the dark room.
She was led by a tall man, wearing a long white lab coat. Beneath it, black leather pants and cruel boots strode specifically down the hall.
Two other men walked beside her.
The one on her right cupped her heavy, full breast in his right hand. As it swayed with her long, easy stride, it rubbed against that fleshy cradle.
The other man pinched the dark nipple of her left title between his thumb and middle finger and pulled it hard, distorting her near-perfect globe into a fat cone, pulled cruelly out from her powerful chest.
She was naked, her wrists cuffed behind her head to a heavy padded leather restraint collar. Her sharply bent arms were held up and back by a rod which passed behind her neck, over her shoulders and in frontof her elbows.
Her hair, which was braided in two long strands, one passing on each side of her neck, was pulled under the rod. The ends of her braids were bound to a thin riata with a Carrick Bend. The man in white used this riata as a leash, pulling the tall blonde along the hall at a quick pace.
As they passed Doralea, she had to fall back into her doorway to allow the rod, as long as the hall was wide, to pass. As they passed, Doralea looked up and was sered by the Hardbody’s eyes, a deep, piercing grey, deep ice over fire.
Once they were past, Doralea could see that the two men beside the blonde also handled her ass. The one on the right merely cupped her cheek with his hands, the fingers curled into the furrow between the firm, soft flesh shafts.
As she walked, the works of her powerful glutes rippled the tender skin between them over the balls of his fingertips.
The other clawed into her buffed, tan cheese as if he were going to wad it into a ball and tear it off.
Doralea watched as they paused at the entrance to the black room. The tall man in the lead pushed it open, then led his small troop into the darkness.
Doralea edged to the door and heard, she assumed, the tall man, barking orders:
“Yes, like that”
“Come away now.”
“No leave her.”
She was started by a hard, ringing slap, bone on bone.
“She is Not for you! Never touch her like that. Now, get out. Move it, move it. Out.”
Doralea pressed her back into the wall as the men swept past her and rapidly disappeared down the hall.
Doralea waited, then drifted slowly and quietly into the dark room.
The blonde stood in the blue light which spilled in from the hall. Her legs were wide-spread, the staff still holding her elbows up and back. Her long thick braids drawn over each shoulder and framed her up-drawn tits, the riata in a coiled heap between her feet.
Two chains, each with a heavy, quick release swivel clip, hung from the darkness above to touch the floor. One nearly touched her back and the other hung a meter or so in front of her.
The grey eyes caught Doralea like barbed spears and drew her in, fascinated.
The Nordic goddess smiled and Doralea’s heart jumped, her face flushing hotly. She took several floating steps towards her. Her tongue moistened her lips, suddenly gone dry.
Doralea raised her hands to promptly touch the perfect nipples, their almond darkness centered in the pale triangles.
Suddenly, Doralea heard footsteps in the hall and leaves into the shadows, hoping to hide, not sure why she feel the need.
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Two figures completely covered in black hooded body suits entered, black gauze masking their faces, their gender completely hidden.
One carried a large grey sports bag; the other a tan, rep-covered bolster the size of a large dog.
As they entered, they closed the door, shutting out the light and casting theroom into total darkness.
Doralea heard a click and three bright, tight spotlights hit the blonde with hot, white light which made the surrounding darkness all the more complete. The two stepped up to the blonde and set the bag and bolster on the floor.
They untied the riata and her braids fell, to hang loose, separated by her tits.
They were untied at the end and unraveled a little, the ends like corn-tassel.
The two figures in black looked at the tall blonde for a moment. She stood under their gaze, impassive.
The taller one reached out a delicate hand to lightly finger the side of her tanned breast. The narrow forefinger traced the outward swell, moving up to the outer horn of her peptide, then around and down the furrow where her outstanding globe rolled under to rest on her ribcage.
The Smaller one watched as the outstretched hand continued down, outlining the abs and circling the navel, which sunk deep and sports a thrusting central boss.
The taller black-clad figure stepped around the blonde to run fingers lightly over the muscles of her back. The one in front stepped up and nuzzled the black-masked face between the marvelous tits.
The one behind her, reached around and, cupping both of those globes, lifted them, offering them to the other, who vigorously began licking, kissing, sucking, biting.
The tanned and tender flesh was soon wet with saliva, red with spreading welts from sucking and marked pale white by the clamping teeth.
Doralea, hidden in the shadows, palmed her own breasts, her breath shallow.
She rolled and pinched her nipples, throwing her head back. Her hair caressed her back as she rolled her lust glazed eyes back to the scene in the light.
The two in black knelt and leaned in to kiss and lick her belly and wait through the gauze masks. The one in the front reached up to press upward on the underside of her tits, lifting and stretching them. The other, behind her, held her wrists crossed stretched out behind to force a forward lean.
This one swept the masked face from side to side, working in between the taut ass-cheeks. The jaw worked as the mouth reached its pumped goal.
In front, the smaller one grew deep and throat while attacking the plump, blonde-covered shaft through the thin black clothes.
Doralea reached down to touch her own shaft. She Parted the curled hair and traced the moist, puffy slit with her middle finger.
The smaller figure rose and removed the staff which held the blonde’s elbows out and pitched it away, clattering across the floor. Then the black-clad body walked out of the light, melting into the shadows on the other side of the room.
The larger one pulled a bundle from the bag, and rolled out about two and a half meters of thin, black fabric. Each end of the cloth had a pair of close set cuffs sewn into it; the free end hit the floor with a loud thud. The blonde’s wrists were uncuffed from her collar and clapped into the set of cuffs set into the end of the fabric. This was then clipped to the chain hanging behind her.
The collar was unbuckled from around her throat and dropped heavily at her feet.
In the darkness above, an electric motor whirred and the chain was tightened, pulling her arms high over her head, until her heels were lifted slightly off the ground.
The figure in black had removed the gloves and ran pale hands up her tan arms, back down, over the stretched tits, and down to her waist.
The hands, stark contrast to the black costume and to her rich tan, reached around to smooth over her belly. They gripped her firmly and pulled her back, pressing her tight, bare ass into the black-clothed groin.
Pale fingers gripped her hips hard, lifted her off her feet.
The gyrating ground ground against her ass.
Her feet were then lowered back to the floor.
Kneeling behind her, the black form buckled her ankles together with the pair of cuffs on the other end of the fabric, then to the chain still hanging free in front of her. As soon as the chain was attached to the manacles, the overhead motors whirred again and lifted her feet. As she was lifted, the black figure rose and hustled to arrange the fabric to form a sheer black hammock beneath her.
On each side of her head a braid hung, dangling over the tautly stretched armpits and falling to the floor. They had unbraided Nearly half-way and the fine spun gold caught the hot light in its fluffed brush.
The figure reached down and opened a slit on the front of the crotch, then pulled out a long, thin, pale dick.
The other, smaller figure came from the darkness and knelt down, to suck his cock through a gap in the black gauze mask.
The blonde turned her face to watch lazily from her hammock as the larger one gripped the smaller by the back of the head and worked the masked face on his cock.
The smaller one retired again to the shadows, leaving the pale cock shining slickly.
The man stood beside the blonde’s head, stroking and tapping his thin dick against her cheek. He set her hammock rocking slightly, rubbing his dick against her lips.
She opened her mouth and her tongue and lips slide along the slender cock, wetting it further, her saliva mixed with the glistening coating left by the other’s cock-sucking.
The man moved to stand between her arms, straddled her head and began fucking her mouth, his balls knocking against her eyes, divided by her nose.
Her braids were knocked ever looser, the unraveled ends getting longer, fuller.
The motors hummed again and lifted her feet high over his head, so that she hung upside down.
As she hung by her ankles, the motors jacketed her mouth up and down his long, stiff cock.
The stony, almond nipples standing out from her full tits drug against his abdomen.
He slapped her ass hard, knocking her pussy against his face. He hit her suspended ass again, driving her large, soft cunt-mound against his out-thrust chin.
He grabbed her ass eagerly and began devouring her cunt, tongue fluttering, teeth flashing.
The motors whirred, lowering her feet, and he rode her down, still gnawing at her cunt and fucking her mouth with long, deep thrusts.
She was horizontal and he pushed his hands deeply into her muscled abdomen, lifting his torso off hers and forcing his cock deeper.
Doralea was started at the bulge in her throat as the tan beauty accepted the driving dick eagerly.
The man pulled out suddenly, the Hardbody gasping, near tears with the abandonment.
He walked slowly, lightly trailing one hand along her side, until he stood at her ass. He laid a hand on each of her knees and spread them wide, lifting her crotch.
The sheer black clothes hung loosely from the cuffs on her ankles.
As he ducked under those shades and stepped between her thighs, he pushed the sheer hammock aside and pressed his pale cock against her soft, wet mound.
The hard tube found its cradle in the hot groove.
The motors hummed and her feet were lowered so that she could plant them firmly on the bony flat between his waist and his buttons.
She levered her pouting pudenda to slide along his member, crushing his cock wetly against his belly. His fingers gripped her thighs and squeezed the heavy muscles vigorously as they worked beneath the stretched tan skin.
He held her firmly in place and pulled his hips back until the head of this cock rested against her vagina opening. With wide gyres he slowly screwed himself into her torrid channel.
She assisted to the limits of her position, with slight thrusts and lateral adjustments, to guide his thin, long rod into her gripping pumpness.
After he had driven to the hilt, he stood, head thrown back with a gargling roar and allowed her to work her cunt on his cock.
She lifted herself nearly off, then letherself fall, jamming hard onto his spike. She wove tight, thrusting circles and slow, wide arcs.
She lifted her head, hair now hanging loose, or pasted to her flesh with sweat, to watch and calculate the effect she had on him, now a rigid status.
Finally, he broke from his stiffness and gripping her waist, fingers lifting her, thumbs pressed deeply into her abs. He straddled her hips, pressing her tighs to her tits. Lifting her crotch higher to meet his nearly vertical thrusts, he pounded his black-clad ass down onto her tanned and buffed cheeses, which quivered under the blows.
She had begun to use the leverage of her heels on his supposeds to assist his driving thrusts. The other returned from the shadows to join the scene, leaning down to kiss and bite his ass, slamming a sharp chin into the hard pad of her tightly folded ass-cheeks.
The small one bent to take a fat dildo from the grey bag. This one stood, watching the wild fucking of the pair hanging in the hammock, and strapped on the dildo. With the artistic prick firmly affixed, the black suited figure moved to stand over the pumping ass of the one sharing the hammock with the blonde beauty.
The dark blue latex cock stand out, glistening with some shimmering lubricant.
The man fucking the blonde was pushed forward, bending at the hips, thrusting his butt back and lifting his feet from the floor. Her legs were crushed to her, her knees pounding against her cheeks.
The man kissed her roughly through the black gauze.
The small one set a hand on the man’s hip and one gripped the dildo, his ass was targeted and, with a swift deftness, the rubber dick was lodged deeply in his ass.
Standing behind him, both hands played over his tensing buttons, the short, black clad figure fucked him in the ass. His long legs waved slowly like the antennae of some fantastic insect as he worked his ass on the blue rod.
Taking a short step back, the fake cock bobbing over the black sheathed thighs, the small hands reached beneath it and, opening a slit in the front of the crotch, pulled out a short, fat cock, and stepped forward again. Using both hands to guide the paired pricks, he pushed the dildo again into his bobbing ass, and guided his own short cock into her cunt. They slowed their frantic thrashings and the shorter man fucked them both as the hammock rocked and bounced
Both men came suddenly, screaming, one right after the other.
They both withdraw from her shakily.
They quickly tossed everything into the bag and left, leaning on each other, arms around shoulders.
The blonde hung in the hammock, breast heaving, braids half unraveled.
She turned her brilliant eyes on Doralea while her pink tongue moistened her lips. Doralea walked up to the hammock and touched her, running Her hands over the flushed flesh, touching her from beneath through the thin fabric of the hammock.
She laid her hand between her tights, touching the slick juice oozing from both holes of her steaming crotch.
Doralea was started when the blonde flipped over, to hang from her wrists and ankles-face down.
The thin black fabric drawn, molded to the blonde’s tensely arched back, accentuating her wonderfully buffed physique.
Doralea, croouched between her legs, reached forward along her belly and touched her pendant tits.
She pressed her face against the tan, come-dripping ass and cunt.
Doralea heard voices in the hall and quickly jumped back into the shadow, her face slickly smeared with the Nordic beauty’s musky juice.
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Doralea huddled back against the wall in the dark and rubbed the juice into her skin of her chin and cheeses. From her hidden vantage she watched, licking her fingers.
A tall, handsome man in a white briefed judo gi jacket and loose black aikido pants strode in, confident and purposeful. The thick jacket fit tightly and the pants, wideand loose, seemed almost a long formal skirt.
Doralea recognized the man in the velvet suit who had led her to the stone.
The blonde looked at him and smiled, a smile he returned broadly.
He stepped over the controls in the darkness and the whirring motors lifted her hands high over her head, then lowered her feet, so that she hung by her wrists, a quarter meter off the floor. He came into the light and kissed her, their heads exactly the same height. She lifted her legs and gripped his waist between her bent knees. He cradle her ass with both hands, working his fingers in the firm yielding cheeses, then between them, spreading them and opening her ass-hole.
They pivoted under her wrists in a slow, lazy dance.
She looked over his shoulder towards Doralea in the shadows and smiled gently.
He released her butt and left her hanging, swinging, from her wrists.
From the shadows he lowered her to her toes.
Returning, he unbuckled the cuffs fromher ankles, letting the fabric hang from her wrists. The sheer fabric clung to her smoking back, cloaking her muscle frame in revealing drainy.
He clapped her inner thighs sharply; she straddled her legs wide. He knelt down between her thighs and gazed into her pussy.
She watched him, glanced up towards Doralea, then back down at him.
He reached out intently and touched her cunt lightly once, a kiss with his fingers. He rose and kissed her, long and passwordate, on the lips, his hands roaming her taut body.
His fingers ran through her hair, loosening her braids completely so that her hair hung long and full.
He stood and gazed into her eyes.
“I love you, Gavia.”
“I know, Riyoja.” Her voice flowed like rich dark molasses, Doralea’s breath caught in her chest.
“I wish you would come with me.”
“I know.”
“You are lovely.”
“I know.”
“I know.”
The tall man draws a strip of clothes, the color of buttered toast, from the belt that cinches his waist.
“I love you.”
“Your eyes are…”
“I know.”
“I hate this part, covering them, hiding the…”
“I know.”
He kissed both her eyes lightly, then wrapped the cloch around her head and adjusted the buttered-toast blind-fold to cover her wonderful eyes.
He walked into the darkness and the motors whirred. He lowered her feet to the floor.
He kissed her once more on the lips, then left the room.
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Doralea was about to go to her when he returned, with several others — who moved in, and settled unseen in the shadows. They surrounded Gavia and knelt in a ring just outside the circle of light.
He shouted a sharp command in a language Doralea did not recognize.
From the darkness, a long pole reached to touch her cheek and withdraw.
She waited, impassive, hands high over her head. Another pole, wood rubbed to a smooth sheen, batted playfully between her breasts, setting her round tits to a prancing jig.
She waited, without reaction. Yet another touched the back of her head, then traced down her spine. Doralea shuddered, but Gavia remained still. The pole reached the lower ribs above her waist. Gavia flashed, twisting, grabbing the pole with her powerful legs, wrenching it from the hands of her unseen assailant and slamming it down, her feet pressing it protectedly to the floor.
Another slashed at her from the darkness, a full round swing, she turned deftly, avoiding the blow as if she were immaterial. Many attempts were made with the poles — though blindfolded, Gavia avoided many of the blows (though some connected quite hard.)
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