Frog (5 page)

He pressed the cold plastic against her lips and poor Jane had no choice but to comply. Slipping the gag in place, he secured it behind her head. "Don't you look pretty," he smiled, watching her eyes tear as she tried to adjust to the offending object pressed against her soft palate.

"Just for good measure," he added, grinning evilly, "let's not leave your cunt out of the fun." So saying, Robert took a dildo which was much larger than the penis gag, and slipped it into a harness before rudely shoving it up her snatch. Jane emitted a grunt of pain from behind the plastic cock in her mouth. Robert said, "Lucky for you that

you were still wet from your orgasm, slut. It would have hurt way worse otherwise!" He buckled the harness around her slim waist so that the dildo would stay buried deep in her pussy. As a final touch, he replaced the satin blindfold. There he left her, bound, blinded, gagged and stuffed, to muse on her fate.

The minutes ticked slowly by. Though she was bound and immobilized, her mind was churning with what had just happened to her. Confusion was paramount as she tried unsuccessfully to grapple with the outrage at having been abused and tortured, and the secret pleasure of the wild orgasm that had been wrenched from her without her consent or even understanding. She could still hear her own piercing scream as she came, echoing in her mind.

And not only had he forced her body to react in that sexual way, but his horrid wife had probably been watching on the closed circuit camera, getting off on Jane's humiliation and total loss of control. She flushed here alone just thinking about it all. And yet... And yet she couldn't deny that instance when pain was obliterated and pleasure rode roughshod over everything else, shutting down her mind, her fears, her consciousness as it swept her body into a moment of pure delight. Remembering it now, she felt her vaginal muscles contract slightly against the invading dildo rammed up her cunt.

She heard something and stiffened, her musings forgotten. Unable to scream, to talk, to see, to move, Jane's hearing had become especially acute. She felt she could almost hear the tumblers of the lock falling into place as the key scraped in its hole. She heard the door open and the sharp click of high heels against the floor. She heard someone come close to her and circle her slowly. Not a word was said and Jane began to tremble with fear and anticipation, the silence weighing on her like a stone.

It was broken with a swishing sound and a loud crack as a flogger struck Jane's ass without warning. Jane's scream was muffled by the penis gag as she jerked away from the whip. "I want you to count, frog," commanded Brenda, who was dressed today in what Robert called her 'Mistress Outfit.' She was wearing a tightly cut leather bodice that pushed her large breasts together, creating a deep

cleavage. Her miniskirt molded flatteringly against her curvaceous form, and garters peeked out from its hem, holding up sheer black stockings that hugged her long, shapely legs. Black patent leather six inch heels completed the outfit.

At close to six feet, with large breasts and broad hips, Brenda was an imposing figure. Her long dark red hair hung loose over the black leather vest. In her mid-thirties, she was still beautiful and today her green eyes sparkled as she wielded her favorite flogger. She did love to give a good whipping, and this slut had definitely earned hers.

Brenda had watched and listened to Robert's introduction to the sensual pleasures via the closed-circuit camera, as Robert had guessed she would. Her own hand had crept to her pussy as she watched her husband expertly bring that slave cunt to orgasm. She knew precisely what Jane was feeling. Robert could always drive a woman wild. His tongue was like a magic wand, drawing the passion out of you no matter how you resisted. Watching him lick and fondle their new toy was both exciting and enraging. If she had probed her own feelings, Brenda would have had to admit that the jealousy was as much a factor in her arousal as the voyeuristic pleasure she took in watching her man use another.

Then she would feel her blood heat with passion and with that familiar jealous rage which lent such fire to the beatings her slaves got after Robert used them. Today was no exception. "I want you to count each lash, and then you will thank me that many times for your whipping. Am I understood?" She punctuated the question with the second strike, this time to Jane's back.

Jane jerked in pain and surprise, but managed to nod her understanding. She wished she could faint like the first day, but she remained mercilessly alert and aware. Now only muffled groans, whimpers and the whoosh and smack of the whip could be heard as she received each lash. Jane could never anticipate where the next blow would land. It might be her back, ass or thigh. Brenda would move from spot to spot, and then hit one tender area repeatedly, until Jane would actually feel relief to be struck at another, less tender spot.

When at last the whipping stopped, Jane's skin was on fire and her face was flushed with exertion. Brenda removed the gag, though she didn't untie the hapless woman. The thick red lipstick had smeared over Jane's mouth and chin, making her look like a little girl who had gotten into red icing. Brenda snorted derisively, saying, "Your face is a mess, lipstick all over you like some backstreet whore."

Brenda shifted the frame so that Jane was standing upright, though the dildo was still firmly embedded in her cunt. She pulled off the blindfold to reveal eyes wet with tears. Jane opened and closed her jaw several times, relieved to have the offending object removed at last. Brenda stood, regal in her outfit, eyes flashing, breasts heaving from having beaten the poor woman still bound in front of her.

"Well," she said, waiting. "One thank you for each lash. Get it wrong and we start again."

"T-thank you, Mistress," began Jane, trying not to cry.

"That's one. Go on, girl. Are you a total idiot? Can't you count? Or do you want the whip again?" She raised her arm menacingly, whistling the whip in the air next to Jane, who flinched.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," Jane hurried to interject. She counted off twenty five 'thank you's,' praying she had gotten it right, terrified of another whipping on her tender aching flesh.

Grudgingly Brenda said, "All right. So you can count. Later I'll require that you beg me to know what you can do to
show
your thanks for getting the beating you deserve. And you do deserve it, don't you, whore, for leading my husband on like that?"

Jane didn't know at first what she meant, and then slowly a glimmer of understanding pierced her as she realized Brenda might actually be jealous of her husband's 'attentions.' The thought dumbfounded her for a moment. How could this tall, voluptuous woman with that wild mane of dark red hair possibly be jealous of a short, skinny little person with thin hair and no curves to speak of? It was crazy! And to say that Jane was leading him on, when she had been bound and forced, was beyond absurd. But then, this whole nightmare made no sense.

Seeing Brenda's dark flashing eyes and the hard line of her mouth, Jane knew she was in a no-win situation. She was damned no matter what, to suffer at Brenda's hand, to suffer at Robert's hand. All she could do was try to find ways to minimize it, and to stay alive. Escape at this point seemed impossible.

Escape. She realized as the thought popped into her head that while it was impossible now, maybe it wouldn't always be! If she could learn the crazy game they were playing, try to figure out the rules, maybe she could somehow get herself out of this horrible plight. They were both crazy, that was clear, but maybe somewhere there were chinks, ways to gain more freedom, to gain their trust, to get out of this room! To save herself.

No. She wouldn't think on that now. One step at a time. The most important thing now was to learn the rules. She was already coming to realize that Brenda was the formidable one. Brenda was the one with whom she really had to deal. Because while Robert saw her strictly as an object to be used and debased, Brenda understood and appreciated that she was human, with all the frailties that implied. Brenda would be the one to overcome.

Jane was bound to the gynecological table set in the center of her prison, pelvis slightly raised by a pillow thrust under her hips. She was positioned so that her head was hanging off the front of the table. Brenda waved the glittering silver speculum at her, and then smeared it with lubricant before inserting it into Jane's spread vagina. She spread the phalanges until Jane screamed from the pressure. Brenda hissed, "Shut up, cunt. I'm stretching you so Robert can fuck you properly. You haven't even seen his cock yet, have you?"

As if on cue, Robert entered the room, wrapped only in a small towel around his loins. A thick gold chain lay glittering against his massive hairy chest. He let the towel drop and strode over to Jane's head, which was positioned so he could drive his cock down her throat. First he moved into her line of vision so she could see the huge penis of which he was so proud and which Brenda also prized. Jane almost fainted from the sight of it. The thought of that thing entering her caused her vaginal walls to clench involuntarily against the cold hard steel shoved deep inside of her. But Robert wasn't planning on fucking her yet. No. First she was going to learn the art of cock sucking. Trial by fire, since her only experience so far was the little plastic phallus they had locked in place as a gag. Now he crouched over her, so that the tip of his cock touched her lips.

"Open your mouth, bitch," Brenda growled. "Don't you dare deny my husband!" She opened the speculum wider as she spoke, and Jane cried out. Very reluctantly she opened her mouth, and Robert eased his cock into it. It felt hot and smooth and she could smell the musky odor of his arousal. He allowed her a few minutes to get used to the invading presence and then, without warning, he glided his erection into her throat. As he drove his cock down, her gag reflex tightened around it and she began to choke. He held it there, catching Brenda's eye as they watched her writhe on the table, feeling her panic as he blocked her windpipe.

He pulled back slowly and she gasped for breath. Again he entered, slow and smooth, forcing her to take it again, choke-fucking

her with his cock. Again and again he gagged her, released her and gagged her again, until at last, spent, she relaxed against the invasion. He continued to thrust in and out of her mouth, deep-throating her until he came, pulling out in time to cover her face and tits with his seed.

Brenda withdrew the speculum, leaving Jane's pussy gaping. She took a whip and shoved the handle into Jane's cunt. "Don't you dare let it fall out. Keep it in place or I'll whip you with it!" Brenda ordered the slave.

Turning to her husband, she observed that he was holding his penis, still semi-erect. "Gotta pee," he informed her, moving toward the door.

"So? Do it here? We have the perfect toilet right here. She's not going anywhere." Robert looked at his wife, a slow smile creeping across his face.

"Go ahead," Brenda coaxed him. "You know she deserves it. Hell, she's lucky to get your piss. She's lucky to get anything you offer her."

Robert nodded, stroking his penis as he stood over the poor girl. "Golden shower time, slut." Jane squeezed her eyes shut as the warm piss splashed on her belly, her breasts, her pussy and her face. Robert waved his cock lewdly from side to side, covering the poor miserable woman in his urine, marking her like some wild animal.

Though she was desperately hoping they would release her, the couple left her alone, tied to the table, her arms bound tightly at her sides. With sticky cum on her face and tits, a whip handle sticking lewdly out of her cunt, and dripping with piss, the bound and spread woman was thoroughly frightened and humiliated. She knew that she had to keep the whip handle in place or get the promised beating. It was too much. She was spent, exhausted by the ordeal. Closing her eyes, she felt herself slipping mercifully away.

Robert came to her later, unlocking her from her shackles. He pulled out the whip handle, which had remained embedded inside of her. He ordered her to stand, but saw that she was unable to do so without his assistance. Weakly she stood, swaying slightly, trying to

cover herself with her arms. Robert quickly hosed her down and she was actually grateful for the cold spray that washed away the sticky cum and nasty piss.

Still shivering and naked, she was ordered to lie on the floor and spread her legs. Robert then secured each ankle and wrist to the eyehooks set at strategic intervals. "I'm not done washing you yet. Your little cunt is still very dirty. Dirty, nasty little cunt," he murmured as he adjusted the nozzle of the hose to a more directed spray.

As he aimed the cold spray of water at her sex, Jane's pelvis jerked, but she couldn't get away. The spray was intense, stimulating her sensitive labia and clitoris. She was unable to close her legs. A pressure that wasn't entirely unpleasant began to build in her loins. She felt a heat that mixed strangely with the cold of the water spray. He held the spray against her, not caring that he was getting thoroughly wet himself, as he watched her arch against the onslaught of water.

Even chained as she was, she was aware of the sexual tension building in her, and against which she was powerless to resist. Actually it felt good, one of the few pleasant sensations she had had since being abducted. Robert held the spray steady now, a pounding stream against her sensitive center.

"Oh, God." The words were wrenched from her as the water forced the unwilling woman to orgasm. Still Robert aimed the water stream at her as she vainly arched and bucked in her chains. Pleasure began to melt into irritation as sensation moved from arousal to nausea.

Jane began to beg, "Please! I can't! Please, stop, no more…"

Robert laughed, knowing precisely that he was taking her now from pleasure to pain, all wrought by his hand, under his control.

Finally he turned off the hose. Jane's body, which was an arc of protest, collapsed against the hard floor, splashing in the puddle of water beneath her. "I own you," Robert whispered as he turned the water away from the drenched and exhausted woman. "Don't forget it."