Chapter 132.
“Ooh… Let’s make a Chantal sandwich!” joked Kaiya, lying down on top of Chantal and fastening her teeth in the lobe of her left ear, leaving Barbara to probe her right with her tongue. They lay quietly like this for a minute or so, a neat pile of three bodies, saying nothing, their sweat and their scents intermingling. They were conscious of two sounds: a restless fidgeting from the female audience, and the tinkling of steel from Bobby bonds, less than a metre away from them, as he fought to keep himself under control. Kaiya looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. His head was turned to one side, apparently in an attempt to distract himself from the action.
“Having fun, Bobby?”
He frowned and shook his head, pretending to be unmoved by the scene right under his nose. But the truth was that his coc-k was under extreme pressure, straining vainly inside the cruelly inadequate curled tube, and his nipples were throbbing fit to burst. And there was nothing he could do to get the slightest relief. Kaiya gave an unsympathetic snort of laughter.
“Are you ready, Chantal?”
Her only reply was a faint whimper.
“Okay. I’ll start then, shall I Babs?”
“After you, darling…”
With a mischievous giggle, Kaiya lifted herself off Chantal and, kneeling back on her haunches with her hands on the girl’s waist, withdrew the dil-do to the base of the head, then slid it in as far as it would go. As she was withdrawing a second time, Barbara elevated her hips a few inches, so that her dil-do was sliding forward whilst Kaiya’s was sliding back. Thus synchronised, they soon attained a smooth, relentless rhythm, like a well-lubricated machine. At first, Chantal’s eyes widened with surprise, and she responded to each succeeding thrust with a little cry of pleasure.
“Oh…oh…oh…oh…”
The girls’ movements were as regular as a metronome’s. The c-umulative effect was overwhelming, making her whole body thrill and vibrate. She wanted to cry out, or beg them to pause, but she was physically unable to articulate anything but gasps or sobs, and was forced to abandon herself to the irresistible arousal building within. Kaiya squeezed another bead of lube onto the gleaming shaft of her strap-on. She controlled its rhythm by flexing her torso, her ponytail pattering against the back of her latex hood at each thrust, whilst Barbara, grinning up at her, flexed her hips. Watching the steady in and out of the dil-dos, and listening to the soft, regular plap, plap, of the leather plates, Kaiya tried to imagine what Chantal must be feeling. She couldn’t see her face – her head was now to the side of Barbara’s and her hands on the rug – but she was panting, emitting quiet grunts of pleasure, and her neck and ears were bright red. After a while she began to respond, moving in rhythm with the rubber pistons smacking against her flesh. She had discovered the clitoral stimulator at the base of Barbara’s phallus, now well-lubricated with her own juices, and at every thrust was grinding her clit against it, and getting more and more excited.
Minutes passed. The three girls were working up a sweat now, but moving together in perfect harmony. It was like a choreographed ballet, albeit a repetitive one. Barbara had slid her hands under Chantal’s top, and was playing with her nipples, pulling at them and rolling them in her fingers till they were stiff. The women watching from across the room fidgeted in their seats, but barely blinked, anxious not to miss a moment. Polly licked her lips with arousal and satisfaction. She had been jealous of her daughter’s looks for a few years now, and seeing her being, as she thought, humiliated in front of everyone, gave her an extra little thrill of satisfaction.
“Those girls… Outrageous!” murmured Diana Murchison, with a wicked smile, slightly adjusting the position of her phone as she could see Bobby was now goggling at the scene at his feet and gasping like a stranded fish.
“fuc-k her good and hard, girls…” hissed Tracey, to no-one in particular, slipping a hand inside her panties. “Oh, no offence, Polly…”
“None taken, Trace. She deserves everything she gets…”
Chantal herself, enjoying the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced, was feeling she could take it all and more, all the afternoon if necessary. And she probably would have done, too, had not Barbara brought matters to a climax with just a few well-chosen words. It was the triumph of psychology over physicality. Turning her head sideways, she whispered in Chantal’s ear.
“Darling… How would you like to be our permanent little fuc-k-puppy?”
A questioning groan was all she could summon up in reply.
“Come live with us. Yes? I promise we’ll look after you. We’ll put you on a leash, take you everywhere with us, fuc-k you three times a day and make you eat our pussies in between…”
Barbara had her totally sussed her out. It didn’t take a genius, after all. The ease with which she had submitted to her violation, and her total, willing surrender to their will, even in front of her mother and her mother’s friends, told her all she needed to know. Chantal’s reaction even better than she had hoped. With a loud sob, her muscles tensed for a second, then she climaxed.
“YES…! OH, YESSS…!” She gripped the sides of the rug and pulled at them as if she were trying to left all three of them off the floor.
Whether she was merely c-umming, or also agreeing enthusiastically to Barbara’s suggestion, was not immediately clear – but the girls, by tacit agreement, never once altered the tempo of their thrusting, but carried her right through what turned out to be a spectacular two-minute orgasm.
And hers was not the only one. It seemed to trigger everyone else in the room, except for Kaiya, who maintained her cool throughout. It was too much even for Barbara, who thought for a moment she was going to faint from the sheer release. But she focussed, stayed conscious, and continued to do her part. Looking up, she saw Bobby, his face contorted with painful ecstasy, the white ball jerking violently as his pent-up c-um was forced from his straining, tightly-constricted coc-k. The spherical white sheath swelled until it erupted from the lip in thick wads, streaming down his leg and splashing onto the base of the stand, splattering her and Chantal’s faces. On the other side of the room Eleanor, with a groan, slid from her armchair onto the floor, Danielle, one hand under the table and the other holding her phone, moaned aloud, and Diana and the others shook and shuddered in communal orgasm. Even Polly gave in to her instincts, muttering the single word “bitch” as she came – though whether referring to her daughter or herself no-one could tell.