Publicly Display Yourself for Me (4 page)

The smell of sex is rampant around us, and
mixed with the sea salt in the air, it’s an aphrodisiac like no
other.

“Look at that,” Alex murmurs.

He is very close to our melded hips. His
camera lens is trained at the juncture of where his twin’s cock is
joined to my vulva. I have no doubt he has put it on zoom.

Brad begins to pant hard. His hands on my
buttocks and hips are slick with sweat. I steal a look at my
audience. They are enraptured, hanging on to every bump and grind
of Brad’s hips against mine.

My vision shakes because of Brad’s
enthusiastic nailing.

“First call for audience participation,” Max
announces, raising his hand.

He is greeted with a few “Show us your
cock!” requests from the females in the lines.

“I’ll participate if you’re doing the
fucking!” calls a busty blonde in a bandeau type bikini.

The audience is getting noticeably
raunchier. Quite a few women are beginning to loosen their
spaghetti bra straps. A couple of tits have spilled out, revealing
pointed nipples. At this stage, I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone
got down in a mass orgy.

In response to his fans, Max slips off his
G-string.

Screams greet this. I am not surprised.
Max’s cock is long and hard and flagpole straight. It points into
the air like a rifle. Clearly on a high, the busty blonde rushes to
him.

“Fuck me,” she says breathlessly.

Max laughs in that wonderfully sexy way of
his.

He turns to me. “You don’t mind, do you,
Gina?”

I’m too winded to say anything but a weak
“No.”

I can’t very well say that I mind, can I?
Especially when his brother’s cock is slamming against my cervix as
though he wishes to punch through it. Yet part of me is peeved. I
want Max all to myself. And although he wishes me to fuck as many
men of his own choosing as possible, I don’t want him to fuck any
other woman.

Am I being childish?

As his brother continues to drive his thick
penis into me – making me grunt and pant in the glorious process –
Max pushes the blonde up against the rock. Her long hair spills
onto the ledge that Brad and I are perched on, and her back is to
us. She peels off her bikini top straps so that her breasts –
bigger than mine – are revealed. She quickly tears off her thin
scrap of a bikini bottom.

I can only stare in dismay as Max positions
his cock between her open legs. They are both upright. As he is far
taller than she is, he has to lift her up so that her legs are not
touching the sandy ground. She screams as he impales her with one
clean thrust.

Something writhes within my chest.

Of course, I am being foolish. Ours is an
open relationship. A very strange and very open relationship. I
have no right to be jealous when he shares me so willingly with his
entire family. I am a sex slave. I must not conceive of such
thoughts during the terms of my servitude.

And yet . . .

Max pumps and rocks his hips against the
blonde’s. She makes squealing and throaty noises. Alex is of course
avidly snapping away at our doubly merged genitals. He seems to be
crawling all over the place – a shot of a tit here, a shot of a
pussy hole there.

The crowd is getting frenzied.

Brad’s marvelous tool massages and pounds
and strokes my pussy walls into a cornucopia of exploding
sensations. I begin to pant and sweat more copiously. My mind is a
whirlwind, but at least the image of Max starkly claiming the
nameless blonde mere inches away from me is not bothering me so
much anymore. I’m caught up in my own riptide of ecstasy.

I feel my groin expanding – escalating into
a slow boil of a climax. Brad himself is grunting more and making
urgent caveman noises. His cock is thrusting into me faster and
faster. He too is ready for release.

I allow myself to come – blindingly and
shockingly and unabashedly. I think I must have screamed out my
orgasm for everyone to hear, because their burst of applause rings
faintly in my roaring ears. But I am not allowed to finish my
climax.

All too soon, the sound of police sirens
wails in the distance.

5

“Oh shit,” Max says beside me.

Brad looks up.

“Oh shit,” he repeats. I can feel the
hardness of his cock waning inside me.

There are nervous titters and murmurs amid
the audience.

There comes the sound of a motor from the
sea. I swivel my head as Brad withdraws his softening piece of man
flesh. A speedboat is dashing upon the waves towards the shore.
Three silhouettes bob within its interior.

Max eases himself out of the blonde’s pussy.
(I hope it isn’t as tight as mine – that bitch).

“Salvation comes,” he says triumphantly.

At first, I didn’t understand what he meant
by that. But as the speedboat slows to a halt at the beach, a
figure jumps out of it into the crashing sea and waves to us.

It’s Heather.

“What are you waiting for, guys? A police
citation?” she calls.

A flood of relief washes through me. I know
that Max is well-read in legal matters, but frankly, I have little
confidence that the police would actually listen to him. They would
probably just slap handcuffs on all of us and haul us naked to the
police station. I’m sure that Max’s father would be able to get his
three sons off with a small fine, but I’m not so sure that my
police arrest record would ever be struck off. That wasn’t in my
contract.

Brad helps me off the rock. With whatever
clothes we have on – and that’s not saying much – we run to the
speedboat just as several police officers appear within the
dispersing ranks. They are flanked by the lifeguards and their
boss, who is gesticulating and pointing at us. The frothing waves
splash around us, wetting my breasts and hair.

Max seizes my waist and hauls me onto the
speedboat. Greg is onboard, along with another officious young man
at the wheel. I tumble onto the floor as the others start to push
the rocking boat out to sea. The police make a concerted dash
towards us.

The motor starts up again. The three
brothers clamber on board as the boat begins to take off. I am
crouched upon the bottom of the boat, trying to hold my guts in as
we speed off into the sun.

Everyone but me bursts into spontaneous
laughter when we have put some distance between us and the
beach.

“Did you see the look on their faces?”

“This is spectacular, man! Spectacular!”

“What a stunt we pulled! This will be the
talk of town!”

“I’m betting you this will be in the local
papers tomorrow.”

Alex raises his Nikon. “And I’ve got a
boatload of photos to prove it. Wait till Dad sees what we’ve
done!”

A shadow falls across me. Heather straddles
my bare feet. Her arms are on her hips. I can’t really make her
face out because she is standing against the sun.

“Nice,” she says approvingly as she takes in
my naked tits and pussy. “Say, Max, in return for rescuing you
guys, why don’t we strike a little trade?”

“Shoot,” Max says. He is toweling his hair
dry.

“Once we are on the yacht, you give your
precious Gina to me for two hours.”

My heart sinks.

“Two hours.” Max grins. “So I figure Alice
has told you what Gina is all about.”

“Oh, sure.” Heather bends down and her
features swim into my focus. “It’ll be such a treat, don’t you
think, Gina?”

6

The private yacht named
Claforis
is
out at sea. It’s a beautiful vessel, spanning sixty meters long. It
possesses three majestic decks. I can see lounging chairs and what
looks like a Jacuzzi dotting the sun deck on the very top.

We board the
Claforis
from the
speedboat.

“My father’s yacht,” Max explains as he
helps me up the ladder.

Of course Russell would have a yacht. He has
a sex slave. Why wouldn’t he have a yacht?

Alice waits for us on the main deck, her
arms crossed.

“Fine lot of trouble you got yourself into,”
she sneers.

“Oh come on, sis, we were just having fun,”
Max says, grinning.

“Well, don’t expect me to play your knight
in shining armor next time. I’m always charging to your rescue, and
one day, it’s going to get tiring.” She takes in his state of
undress. A fleeting look of suppressed desire traverses her eyes as
they roam over his wet penis.

I have always wondered if there was
something more between Max and his sister. I know she desires him.
But has she acted on that desire, and has he reciprocated?

Alice turns her hard gaze to my almost nude
body next. Her expression immediately turns scornful.

“Had fun?” she asks me, her tone full of
bitter distaste.

Heather lithely ascends onto the deck.
“Alice honey, Max has kindly given me permission to play with Gina
for two whole hours. You don’t mind if I disappear for a while, do
you?”

The look on Alice’s face is priceless.

Heather beams. She cocks her finger at
me.

“Come on, Gina. Let’s go downstairs.”

It is not a request.

Max nods at me. “Go on, it will be OK.” He
glances askance at Heather. “Go easy on her, OK? Remember, no
permanent scarring, as with the terms of her contract.”

I feel a little faint.

“Max darling, I wouldn’t dream of scarring
your little love bunny.”

That doesn’t assuage my trepidation in the
least.

Heather leads me into the sheltered area of
the main deck, where a plush salon awaits us. I take in brief
glimpses of the interior as we descend to the lower deck, where
several cabins line the passageway. Everything is tip top and
spotlessly clean.

Heather pushes open a door to one of the
cabins. Inside, a confortable but small room beckons, replete with
a large double bed with four bedposts and intricately carved
railings. At the foot of it is a cushy love seat. Several
deceptively cheerful-looking portholes peer out into a vista of
blue sea and skies.

“Take off all your clothes,” Heather
demands.

I obey. There isn’t much to take off anyway.
I drop the remnants of my wet string bikini on the floor. I’m
suddenly nervous. There is much I don’t know about Heather, other
than she’s a friend of Alice. And Alice can be cruel.

Would her friends also be cruel?

“Stay still,” Heather commands. She is
wearing the clothes I saw her in this morning – the tank top and
running pants. For some reason, I can’t take my eyes off the tattoo
of the woman’s face on her right arm.

It resembles Alice’s face.

I’m seriously confused about their
relationship. And where does Greg fit it, or is their ménage too
complicated for my muddled little brain to decipher?

Heather goes to a chest of drawers and pulls
out the topmost drawer. She withdraws several items that fill me
with dread. She lays all of them on the bed so that I can view each
in its entirety.

“Ready, Gina?” she asks in a voice that is
all birdsong and flowers.

“Yes,” I whisper.

She laughs delightedly. “You should see your
face. Don’t be so scared, Gina. I’m not the Wicked Witch of the
West.”

I’m not certain about that.

She ensures that I am standing straight and
still before she fastens the first item around my neck. It’s a
thick black leather collar. It’s fairly uncomfortable because it’s
a tight choker that spans my entire neck length. It does not allow
much room for maneuverability. When I swallow, the concave
cartilage of my voice box pushes against it.

The collar has a metal ring in its middle.
Heather threads a metal chain through this ring. She connects the
ends of the chain to two clamps, which she pins painfully onto my
nipples.

“Ow,” I say.

“Don’t be a goose. Surely you can take a
little pain?”

The chain is short, and so my nipples are
effectively pinched and held up by my neck collar. If I wish to
ease the tautness of the pull on my nipples, I have to effectively
lower my head and neck.

“Stand up straight,” Heather says.

She pushes in the small of my back so that I
have to maintain a perfect posture. The upward tug on my nipples is
merciless. Numbness begins to spread all over my areolas. Tears
worm into my eyes.

“What a soft, soft girl,” Heather
croons.

I am standing with my feet slightly apart.
She walks around to my front again and dips her hand down to my
pussy. She caresses it – fingers the folds of flesh and the little
wrinkled hood of my clit. Her touch is firm and sure. I gasp at the
intrusion of her long fingernails into my clefts and valleys. The
tips of her nails grate against my inner labia, eliciting
delightful sensations.

“Ah, so you like it,” she says. “Have you
ever been with a woman before?”

I remember Connie well. “Of sorts,” I
say.

“Sit here.” She indicates the love seat.

I seat myself. My back is against the foot
railing of the bed. Heather hops onto the mattress. She binds my
arms and wrists with leather bonds from behind the railing. Her
knots are tight and secure.

“Don’t slouch. Keep your back straight at
all times.”

When she has finished tying my upper limbs,
she vaults her body onto the floor again.

“Raise your legs.”

Feebly, I attempt it. My legs come up in a
‘V’, and my buttocks have to strain to keep them that way. Coupled
with my straight back and my tortured nipples, this is no easy
feat.

She laughs. “Is that the best you can
do?”

Roughly, she seizes my right ankle. With a
leather bond, she tethers it to the right bedpost. She does the
same to my left ankle. I’m in a familiar position that befits my
status as a sex slave – legs open wide and my quivering pussy
thrown to the mercy of my master.

Or mistress.