Black Orchid (10 page)

As the first wave of her climax washed over her, Janine
reached for the dildo and flicked the 'on' switch. Spreading
Maggie's pubic lips wide with the fingers of one hand, she
held the vibrator at the gate of her sex. Slowly, she eased the
buzzing machine into her body, working it in up to the hilt as
her own orgasm overcame her and she collapsed exhausted,
across the bed.

Maggie did not try to stem the tears of humiliation which ran
in hot rivulets down her cheeks as she was led by a chain,
naked but for the high-heeled mules and the studded leather
collar round her neck. When the vibrator had been pulled from
her convulsing body and the scarves removed, she had found
herself alone with Alexander. There was no sign of either
Janine or Antony in the now darkened room and the camera
had been pulled away out of sight.

Alexander was silent as he helped her out of the tight rubber
bodice, though his eyes looked unnaturally bright, as if he had
a fever, and he fastened the collar around her neck attaching
the chain.

Now they were going through the lounge bar. Maggie kept
her eyes on the carpet and concentrated on putting one foot
before the other as the hubbub of conversation ceased. Her
cheeks burned with shame as everyone began to clap and she
realised that a great many of those present had probably
witnessed her humiliation.

She let out her pent up breath with a sigh of relief as they
reached the sanctuary of the private lift. Alexander did not
look at her as they travelled upward and she remained meekly
silent. She could still taste Janine's feminine musk on her lips
and tongue and a blush covered her naked skin as she recalled
how she had enjoyed pleasuring her. Even the pain the other
girl had inflicted on her had been sweet in the end. Her vulva
ached as she moved forward, responding to Alexander's light
tug on the chain when the lift door opened.

Antony and Janine were waiting for them in the lounge.
Janine had obviously just stepped out of the shower. She had
changed into a white, silky kimono, her pale blonde hair damp
across her shoulders. She smiled slightly at Maggie as she
caught her eye, and Maggie dropped her gaze, heat searing her
skin.

Alexander led her over to the white leather sofa and made
her sit, not on the soft cushions, but on the sheepskin rug in
front of it. He looped the chain around the legs of the glass-topped
coffee table, tethering her like a dog.

The doors to the cabinet housing the huge, flat screened
television had been rolled back. A bottle of dry white wine
stood uncorked, three glasses by its side. The apartment was
warm, softly lit by several lamps placed strategically round the
room.

Alexander poured the wine and, ignoring Maggie, handed
Antony and Janine a glass. They sat together on the sofa, Janine
between the two men. Alexander's black denim clad leg was
lightly touching Maggie's bare shoulder. Without a word
passing between them, Antony picked up the remote control
and the TV screen flickered.

Maggie gasped as she was confronted by her own bound
and blindfolded image. She felt curiously detached, removed
somehow from the anonymous, sex-soaked figure which
writhed uncontrollably on the lace-covered bed.

It was difficult to breathe as she watched Janine whipping
her hard, wanton nipples, poking invitingly through the holes
in the black latex body. She watched, mesmerised, as the camera
zoomed in on her anguished face, panning to where Janine
sucked greedily on her breasts, wincing with remembered pain
as she pulled and let go.

Alexander held his glass to her lips and she drank deeply of
the crisp, dry wine. She almost choked as her own vulva came
into view, spread wide open, dripping with arousal, filling the
screen.

'You see how lovely you are – so willing, Maggie, so deliciously
succulent!'

Maggie felt a hot blush stain her body as Alexander's
honeyed words caressed her ears. His breath was warm as it
fanned her face, his lips tickling the tip of her ear. Incredibly,
she felt the familiar throb begin between her legs as she
watched, unable to drag her eyes away from the screen, as the
little rubber paddle beat on her shamelessly straining clitoris.
She had never seen that most intimate part of her at the
moment of orgasm, and she could not prevent a little cry of
distress from passing her lips.

Alexander used the chain attached to the collar round her
neck to pull her head round so that he could kiss her. The kiss
had no warmth in it and when he pulled his head away, Maggie
felt as if she had been branded.

Turning her attention back to the screen, Maggie saw her
own tongue darting in and out of Janine's spread sex-lips, a
frown of intense concentration between her eyes. The camera
lingered, for a moment, on Janine's rapturous face as she
worked her hips back and forth over Maggie's mouth. Her eyes
were closed, her head pulled back so that the soft white flesh
of her throat was exposed in a tender, graceful arc.

For a moment, Maggie felt a rush of pure love for her and
yearned to press her lips against the tiny pulse visible in her
neck. Then the camera swung to Janine's hands and Maggie
saw herself, spread lewdly open, the vibrating dildo held threateningly
at the entrance to her sex.

She could feel it now, that cold, hard, foreign object as it
violated her. And yet, even as she had abhorred the intrusion,
her muscles had contracted around it, drawing it in deeper
until it filled and stretched her, the final humiliation.

Maggie watched with increasing horror as she saw Antony
help Janine from the bed and lead her away, leaving Maggie
alone, tethered to the bed under the watchful eye of the camera,
the monstrous dildo still vibrating wildly inside her. The last
shot was a close up of her face, mouth wide open, contorted
with rapture as orgasm after orgasm wracked her body.

There was absolute silence as the film finished and Antony
turned off the television with the remote control. Maggie sat
staring at the blank screen. Her lungs hurt in her chest, her
breath emerging in short, sharp gasps as the image of herself
which had just faded from the screen remained imprinted on
her memory.

Never had she imagined she was capable of such total
abandonment. It shocked her, even while she was excited by
it. And to have let herself go to such a degree in front of an
audience . . .

'You see, Maggie,' Alexander's throaty voice broke the silence,
'you were made for it.'

He laughed as she turned her stricken face towards him and
ruffled her hair as if she was indeed a favourite pet. Maggie
felt a rush of pure, unadulterated desire for him. It was his
cock that she wanted to replace the cold, unyielding plastic of
Janine's toy; his warm, masculine body she wanted to enclose
and possess her.

Raising herself up on her knees, she shuffled round as far
as the leash would allow, and, oblivious to Janine and Antony,
pressed her face against his black denim-covered crotch. She
could feel the hardness of him pushing against the stiff fabric
as she nuzzled him in a mute plea.

Alexander laughed again and began to unbutton his fly. He
was naked underneath and his white, slender shaft sprang
suddenly up and slapped her across the face. Greedily, Maggie
took it into her mouth and began to suck it hungrily. She felt
it thicken and swell as she ran her tongue up and down the
underside and round the smooth, circumcised tip.

She gasped as, suddenly, Alexander tangled his fingers in
the hair at the back of her head and pulled her roughly away.
Her eyes signalled her distress as he brought his face close to
hers and said coldly,

'You didn't ask permission, did you?'

Maggie shook her head, tears starting in her eyes as the
action pulled her hair at the roots. All reason seemed to have
left her, she only wanted to feel him in her mouth again, draw
him into her yearning body.

'Please . . .' she whispered.

Alexander bestowed one of his golden smiles on her and
she basked in its warmth. Her spirits plummetted as he
spoke.

'No, sweet Maggie, I think you've had enough for tonight.
Don't be so greedy.'

He kissed the tip of her nose and let go his punishing grip
on her hair. Gently, he pushed her away from him.

'I'll tell you what, as you've been so very good, I'll let you
watch.'

Maggie frowned, not understanding, at first, what he meant.
Following his gaze as he turned away from her, she saw that
Antony and Janine were oblivious to them and were kissing
passionately at the other end of the sofa. Janine's robe had
fallen open to reveal her nakedness and Antony's large, sensitive
hand kneaded her right breast as she pressed against
him.

As she watched, they sank slowly onto the sheepskin rug,
mouths still melded together as Antony shrugged off his shirt
and Janine deftly dispensed with the fastening to his trousers.
Maggie shifted uncomfortably as her own juices began to flow
in empathy with Janine when Antony began to kiss her small,
perfectly formed breasts.

Glancing at Alexander, she realised that he was watching,
not Janine, but Antony. She tugged experimentally against the
chain which bound her to the coffee table, but it held her fast.
She did not dare to use her hands to untie herself and she sank
back against the sofa, defeated.

The soft leather was warm against her bare skin, the silky,
ticklish fur of the rug brushing against her swollen sex. She
could not take her eyes off the couple not two feet away from
her as their loveplay turned rougher, more urgent, the tender
kisses turning into bites, the languorous caresses into mildly
punishing scratches and pinches.

Maggie's mouth and throat felt dry and she gulped gratefully
at the wine Alexander held against her lips. She watched
jealously as Antony flipped Janine onto her stomach and raised
her up onto all fours. Janine was sideways on to Maggie, so
she had a clear view, in profile, of both her face and her bottom
which she wiggled enticingly at Antony.

His erection bobbed in front of him as he scooped her up
and turned her so that Maggie could see her pink, moisture-slicked
sex beneath the tight, puckered hole of her bottom.
Alexander suddenly sprang out of the seat and disappeared
from the room.

Antony slipped his forefinger into Janine's open sex, inches
away from Maggie's face, and Janine sat back slightly so that
she was impaled on it, wriggling her bottom lewdly as Antony
pushed it in and out teasingly. Alexander returned with a
large, square mirror which he leaned against the television
cabinet. It was strategically placed, for Maggie could now
simultaneously see Janine's face and her rear, swaying like a
cat on heat.

She watched with bated breath as Antony knelt between
Janine's outspread knees, poised to penetrate her. Placing his
hands on Janine's hips to steady himself, he eased into her,
closing his eyes in concentration as her silken sheath drew
him in.

Maggie glanced at Janine's face reflected in the mirror as
Antony began to thrust in and out of her. Her eyes were closed,
her hair dishevelled, falling over her face. Perspiration stood
out on her forehead and her mouth was slack, the pink tongue
visible between the open lips.

Antony had leaned over Janine now, grabbing at her
dangling breasts for balance. Maggie winced in sympathy as
the large hands squeezed uncaringly, the fingers digging into
the soft flesh. A movement behind Antony caught her eye and
she looked up to find that Alexander was watching her.

He smiled at her beatifically as he slowly unbuttoned his
501s and allowed them to drop to his knees. Maggie's eyes
opened wide as she realised what he was about to do. Her own
neglected sex throbbed with disappointment as Alexander ran
his hands lovingly over Antony's pumping buttocks.

He held a tube in one hand and as Maggie watched, he
squeezed a generous portion of white cream into his palm.
Unable to tear her eyes away, she watched as he applied it to
the crease between Antony's buttocks, working it in carefully
and lubricating the tight anal orifice concealed within.

Antony's face was tense, a study in concentration as he drove
rhythmically into Janine from behind, barely breaking his
stroke as Alexander took him. Maggie watched through a blur
of frustrated tears as the scene being played before her rose
to a crescendo.

Janine came first, loudly, shrieking as the sensations overcame
her. Antony held her fast as she made to pull away from
him, kneading her breasts cruelly in his hands to keep her still
as his semen pumped into her convulsing body. Finally, he fell
across her with a groan, crushing her under him on the rug as
Alexander buggered him mercilessly, not letting up until his
own climax had come, accompanied by a triumphant shout.

It seemed like a long time before anyone stirred. Alexander
levered himself off Antony and turned away, pulling up his
jeans as Antony finally realeased Janine. Able to breathe freely
again at last, Janine lay prone, panting for a few minutes more.
Then she too rose and dressed silently.

No one took any notice of Maggie as they dressed. Janine
kissed Antony and Alexander. Only then did she and the two
men turn and notice Maggie, still tethered to the coffee table,
an unwilling, unfulfilled observer.

'We can't leave her like that,' Antony said to Alexander.

They came to sit down either side of her.

'Poor Maggie,' Alexander crooned, 'why don't you relieve
yourself?'

For a moment, Maggie did not understand. Janine smiled at
her, that self satisfied, cat-like smile, and went to fetch the
large, square mirror. Maggie felt the heat rise in her cheeks as
Janine held the mirror steady in front of her, kneeling down
behind it and leaning her chin on the top so that she could
still see Maggie. She shook her head as Antony and Alexander
each took an ankle and, gently, but insistently, parted her
legs.

'No! Oh no, please . . . I can't!'

'Ssh! Antony placed his lips against her ear. 'It's nothing.
Just do it . . . do it for us.'

'Open your eyes, Maggie,' Alexander said sharply, and
Maggie responded to the note of command in his voice.

She could see herself displayed in the mirror, her legs straight,
held apart at the ankle by the two men whose golden heads
were resting either side of her dark one. Her lewdly gaping vulva
looked swollen and red, the tumescent pleasure-bud slipping
clear of its hood even as she watched. There was a well of moisture
at the lip of her vagina which slowly overflowed and
dribbled into the crevice of her bottom.

Maggie swallowed convulsively as she contemplated what
they wanted her to do. To bring herself to orgasm in front of
so many hot, lustful eyes, the mirror ensuring that there was
no escape from the spectacle.

'I . . . I can't!' she whispered.

'Of course you can, here,' Antony kissed her ear and, picking
up her limp hand, pressed it against her labia.

The slightly sticky moisture bathed her fingers and they
moved, almost of their own volition, along the tender, slippery
creases between her legs. Everything in Maggie rebelled at the
thought of debasing herself in such a way, yet she could no
longer deny the jags of white hot pleasure throbbing at her
core.

She felt Alexander's tongue, hot and wet in the whorls of her
ears as she began to run her soaking finger either side of
her inner lips. She watched, fascinated, in the mirror as her sex
opened under her hand like a flower in the sun.

'Beautiful.'

Janine's hushed whisper barely impinged on her consciousness
as she settled her back more comfortably against the sofa
and dipped two fingers into her hot sheath. Her inner flesh
rippled and sucked at her invasive fingers and she worked in
another, then a fourth as her legs were spread wider and held
slightly off the floor.

She felt hot, the hair on her head sticking to her forehead
as someone eased a cushion under her bottom, raising it up
so that she could see herself even better. The rose of her anus
glistened as her juices overflowed and ran in viscous rivulets
down her perineum and between her buttocks.

Uncaring now of the avid gaze of the others, Maggie withdrew
her hand and began to circle her own anus with her forefinger.
Pressing experimentally at the opening, she was shocked and
excited when it yielded under the gentle pressure and she was
able to slip the tip of her finger inside.

'Further,' a voice fluttered in her ear and she eased her finger
in up to the first knuckle.

Feeling empty, she used the fingers of her other hand to fill
her sex. She could feel her other finger through the thin wall
between her vagina and her anal passage and she pushed it
in further, the better to increase the unfamiliar, utterly incredible,
sensation. Her neglected clitoris pulsed and she murmured
in frustration.

A male hand reached down and gently removed her hands.
She moaned in protest, until she realised that he had replaced
the finger in her anus with his own, and a second set of male
fingers obligingly penetrated her feminine orifice, leaving her
own hands free to play with her quivering bud.

She could not hold on for much longer, sight and sensation
were becoming too much. Stretching her labia apart with the
fingers of one hand, she exposed her clitoris and pinched it
hard between the finger and thumb of the other hand.

It was enough to tip her over. She felt filled to brimming as
Antony and Alexander fingered her twin orifices as she rubbed
her clitoris, bearing down with all her might until the sensations
spiralled through her, so intense that, for an instant, she
blacked out.

When she came to, Janine and Alexander had gone and she
was lying in the crook of Antony's arm, her head cradled on
his shoulder. He was stroking her hair tenderly and smiled
down at her as she opened her eyes.

'All right?' he asked and she nodded, made speechless by an
emotion very much like love.

She jumped as Alexander reappeared, but he too smiled at
her, dropping onto his haunches beside her and stroking the
back of his forefinger down the side of her cheek. She watched
dispassionately as he leaned across and kissed Antony, full on
the lips.

Without another word, Antony picked her up and carried
her to the bathroom where Alexander had run a warm, bubbly
bath. Maggie sank gratefully into the silky water and lay in
exhausted acquiescence as they washed her and dried her,
smothering her in talcum powder before slipping an oversized
nightshirt over her head as if she were a child.

Yawning, she realised it must be very late. She leaned against
Alexander as they led her into the bedroom. It was dominated
by a huge soft bed. Maggie crawled gratefully into the centre,
smiling sleepily as she felt Antony and Alexander settle either
side of her. She felt warm and safe . . . and loved. She smiled
and snuggled into Antony's back as sleep claimed her.

Over breakfast in bed the following morning, Maggie felt as if
all that had gone on the night before had been a dream. Yet
here she was, sitting in bed with two men making her fair
share of a mess with the warm, crumbly croissants Alexander
had produced.

In the gentle light of morning there was no sign of the cold,
controlling Alexander of the night before. He was relaxed, his
beautiful face still softened by sleep as he watched Antony
lazily. Antony seemed happy, talking desultorily about his
plans for the weekend as he poured them all more coffee.

Maggie felt disorientated as she realised it was Sunday
morning. She had no plans of her own and was inordinately
pleased when Alexander suggested that she stay with them
for the rest of the morning. They lounged companionably in
bed until lunchtime and Maggie couldn't decide whether she
was pleased or relieved that neither made a pass at her.