Aviation

But that was nothing to her reaction to my next move. Taking a saucer in which I'd been burning a candle for some time -- the rasping sound was the match used to ignite it -- I carefully poured the hot candle wax over Charlotte's pubic hair. Although she was neatly trimmed, I wanted her clean shaven -- and had decided to give her a very special, very personal wax treatment.

As the hot wax came into contact with her skin, Charlotte let out a muffled scream, quickly choked off by the further restriction of the noose around her neck as it tightened in response to her struggles. The wax, quickly cooling and whitening, soon became glistening and wet with the fluids pouring from Charlotte as she struggled for breath. Fascinated by this reaction, I slowly tightened the chord further, watching her face turning a dusky shade of red as her breathing was completely cut off; holding it that way for a full minute until Charlotte must have been on the very edge of unconsciousness. And despite her body being denied the oxygen it so craved, one part of it at least was functioning fully -- I had never seen such a copious flood of lubricants as poured from Charlotte's labia. And how erotic this looked -- her juices soaking the now-hardened wax that surrounded her vagina like icing on a cake. I couldn't resist tasting her again, and rasped my bearded chin roughly against her aching clit -- producing yet another spasmodic lunge against her bonds, and a low, guttural moan from behind the gag.

But now was time for the finale. Gripping the edge of the wax firmly, I yanked it hard. And of course, it came away -- carrying with it all the hair around Charlotte's lips. With one move, she was naked and even more exposed to us, and Susie now, too, leaned forward to lap at Charlotte's vulnerable crotch. In the meantime, I moved to the other end of the stool and, whipping the gag from her mouth, thrust my cock into her throat as her head hung upside down over the edge of the stool. As I did so, I squeezed and pulled those wonderful nipples and once again, Charlotte had become a mere plaything, there only for the purpose of providing gratification to me and to Susie.

But this wasn't the time, tempting though it was, to let things come to their logical conclusion. Taking my still-rigid cock from Charlotte's mouth, I told Susie to desist as well. She paid no attention, and it took a couple of hard slaps on her beautifully-shaped ass to get her to stop teasing Charlotte's clit with her tongue -- but eventually, she did so, leaving Charlotte, now bedraggled again, lashed securely to the stool.

I told Susie to clean Charlotte's face up, and to apply her make-up for her -- I didn't want to release her just yet. And, whilst Susie set about her task, I laid out the clothing Charlotte was to wear. Not much of it -- a simple, floor-length black silk evening dress that would fit where it touched and would touch almost everywhere; a fresh pair of satin French knickers (Charlotte had looked so good in these aboard the plane; I wanted to be able to study her and take some pictures -- more later! -- at my leisure); a pair of very long, very sheer, very black hold-up stockings and a pair of very strappy sandals with a ridiculously-high, four-inch heel.

Susie had by now finished Charlotte's make-up, and it was time to begin dressing her. I released one foot from its restraint, and rolled the stocking up the length of Charlotte's beautifully-shaped and proportioned leg. So perfectly did it fit her that it would have brushed against her pubic hair, had any remained, and it was clear that the already dark welt at the tops of these stockings would quickly become darker still if Charlotte continued to produce fluids in the quantities seen thus far. I wasn't going to complain, though! I managed to get the other stocking on with no problem, then strapped Charlotte into the sandals that would take her to a height equal to mine.

The French knickers were next, and, pulling Charlotte to her feet, I helped her step into them and pulled them up her legs, seating them snugly against her now-hairless mound. Already, Charlotte was a vision -- hair piled artfully atop her head, revealing her long, elegant neck; rosy-tipped breasts jutting proudly; long, slim legs encased in sheerest black nylon as she teetered on the unaccustomed heels, and the elegant eroticism of the French knickers presented a glorious picture. One that I wanted to capture -- so I had Charlotte stand motionless whilst I snapped a few shots with the digital camera. I then tossed the camera to Susie and had her take some pictures as I caressed and licked Charlotte's nipples; Susie of course insisted that the favour be returned -- and as she was wearing nothing more than stockings and heels, I knew these shots would soon go in my private collection. Although I thought I might use one or two for advertising purposes, too....

Anyway, photos taken, it was time to slip Charlotte into the dress I'd selected for her. And it had been something of a challenge making that choice, because amongst the toys in Susies suitcase were a couple of outfits that I could just picture Charlotte wearing -- outfits that I was determined she WOULD wear before too long. But for now, I wanted to keep with the theme of elegance, and the black silk dress slithered over her raised arms and down her body. As I suspected, it fitted beautifully and her magnificent boobs filled it magnificently, her still-engorged nipples raising very obvious peaks in the material.

I took Charlotte by the hand, and led her back downstairs. She hadn't noticed much on the way in -- she was still dazed and confused after her treatment in the Hummer on the way here -- and now she began to look around curiously. What she could see was a large room, log fire flickering in the hearth -- Susie had lit it when I was showering Charlotte -- with a flagstone floor and low, heavily beamed ceiling. I pulled her towards the centre of the room and stopped directly under one of the beams. Charlotte had been compliant to this point, but when I lifted her wrist towards one of the ancient iron hooks deeply embedded in the beam overhead, she pulled away, shaking her head vigorously and moaning "No, no -- not again! No more -- please -- no more!"

Needless to say, her pleas fell on deaf ears. Although she was struggling, she was no match for my strength -- and Susie was clinging on to her other arm. Within seconds, the soft white rope already attached to the hook in anticipation had been used to secure Charlotte's right wrist. Wasting no time, I took her right wrist and repeated the treatment, using a hook situated about three feet away from its neighbour. By pulling tightly on the ropes, I ensured that Charlotte was still able to stand -- but only just, and only on tiptoe, even in those ridiculously high heels.

Her head slumped forward in defeat as she recognised that again she was powerless to prevent whatever we had in mind for her next. She hadn't been blindfolded yet -- and this was deliberate, because I wanted her to see what we were preparing for her, and for her imagination to begin the process of humiliation before we'd even raised a finger.

I opened the lid of an old, sea-going trunk in the corner of the room and took from it an ornately carved, three-foot long spreader bar. Made from heavy ebony and with padded leather cuffs attached securely to each end, Charlotte could see that this was going to be yet another restriction on her freedom. And despite being held inescapably by the wrists, she began to kick out as I came towards her with the spreader bar, catching me briefly with one of those lethal sandals. But Susie once again came to my assistance, catching one raised foot and holding it tightly whilst I fastened a cuff to one ankle; holding it tightly still until I'd secured it, too, to the other end of the spreader bar. As a finishing touch, I used a small, central strap on the bar to secure it to a shackle sunk into the flagstones.

Well -- not QUITE a finishing touch. I took one more long, silken chord and, forming it into a noose, looped this over Charlotte's head and tightened it around her throat -- a throat in which a small pulse beat like a triphammer. And taking the free end of the chord, I fed it through a third eyebolt in the beam, directly above Charlotte's head, before tying it off, pulled taught, to the centre of the spreader bar. Charlotte could breathe -- just -- so long as she stayed on her feet. So, to make that even more difficult for her, I removed the sandals she'd been wearing for such a brief period -- and immediately the chord began to bite more deeply into her neck. Stretching to the very limit of her strength, Charlotte was able to ease the pressure by standing on tiptoe -- but for sure, she wouldn't be able to hold that position for long.

We stood back to admire our handiwork. Charlotte stood before us in a cruciform position, incapable of moving anything except her head and her groin, and neither of those very much. Still able to see, she stood panting and watched as I went back to the trunk, this time removing a riding crop and an old-fashioned, wide-backed hairbrush. As I took a couple of experimental cuts at the air with the crop, Charlotte moaned -- this time in fear.

She knew what was coming. But she didn't know when -- and I didn't want her to know. So -- out came the blindfold again; once again, Charlotte was confined to darkness. She could hear the rustling of clothing and the sound of zips as my clothing was removed -- then she heard me telling Susie to go upstairs and get dressed. No, I didn't want her to put her uniform back on -- but I had spied something in her case, and I whispered instructions to her as to exactly what I wanted her to wear. Susie grinned that wicked little grin of hers, and set off to change.

Meantime, I padded closer to Charlotte. As I said, she knew what was coming, and stretching out the anticipation of the sting of the lash that she knew she was going to feel was my immediate priority. To do so, I began to touch her -- so gently, she wasn't sure she'd even BEEN touched; so randomly that she had no chance of predicting where and when she'd be touched next. Sometimes the touch was with my fingers; sometimes with my tongue; sometimes with the glans of my rock-hard cock from the end of which copious quantities of pre-ejaculatory fluid oozed. I breathed in her ear and watched as her nipples grew harder still; I nuzzled her neck and heard her involuntary gasp; I took her nipple between my lips through the silk of her dress then flicked and squeezed it with my fingers, too -- all of these sensations were building the dread in Charlotte that the NEXT touch would be the one that stung.

I took the spaghetti straps of her evening dress between my teeth and tugged gently until they loosened, allowing her dress to crumple to the floor in a pool of shimmering silk. And how stunning Charlotte looked now -- a light sheen of sweat coating her body both from heat and from fear; breasts heaving as she struggled to breathe normally in that stretched, cruciform position; lingerie outlining and enhancing her beautiful form.

I continued to walk around her. She knew I was there and I could almost see her ears quivering as she sought to locate me by sound alone, all other sensory input having been denied her. And as she tried to find me, another sound distracted her -- the sound of high heels clattering first on the stairs, then on the flagstone floor as Susie made her less-than-silent return. I used this distraction to catch Charlotte when she least expected it and, putting the force of a well-trained forehand into my stroke, brought the riding crop sharply across Charlotte's proudly swelling arse.

She screamed. Not just with pain, but with fright -- I think she'd maybe begun to believe it wasn't going to be so bad this time, after all. But she was so, so wrong. That stroke was just the first of many and I settled into a rhythm, beating her buttocks mercilessly through the satin of her French knickers. And as I did so, Susie picked up the hairbrush and, using the back of it, began to slap Charlotte's concealed mound. She timed her strokes such that we both came into contact at the same time, and Charlotte could do nothing to escape. The pain she was suffering made her forget, too, to stay on tiptoe and she slumped forward, now supported only by the rope around her wrists -- and the chord around her neck. Her breathing began to come in strangled gasps; her head rolled from side to side as she struggled for oxygen and still moans of pain escaped her as her entire lower body became one sea of fiery heat as the riding crop and hairbrush continued to beat their relentless tattoo upon her helpless body.

As I'd said, Susie had brought a couple of special items in her suitcase, and she was wearing them now. Somehow, she'd managed to squeeze herself into a royal blue, wet-look latex teddy that must have been almost painful to wear -- it outlined every millimetre of her small but perfectly formed body. And in addition to that -- as well as a fresh pair of stockings -- she now sported the most wicked-looking strap-on I had ever seen. The contrast between the sheer femininity of her voluptuous body and the powerful, masculine image of the strap-on was incredible -- and I thought it was time Charlotte should appreciate it, too.

So, I removed the blindfold from Charlotte's eyes. They were closed -- but not for long. I took her weight in my arms until she could stand properly once more, and now that the beating had stopped, she was able to do so quickly. And as her breathing returned to normal, she opened her eyes -- only to see Susie advancing upon her, giant phallus jutting obscenely from her groin. Charlotte, obviously, could go nowhere -- and lubricated as she was, presented no obstacle to Susie as she sank the tip of the strap-on into Charlotte's swollen, wet vagina.

I wasn't going to be left out of this one. As Susie began to develop a rhythm, pushing a little deeper into Charlotte with each stroke, I stepped behind her again and using my thumbs, pulled apart the glorious cheeks of her ass. The end of my cock was already slick with fluid and I settled it in position against the puckered opening -- then, when Susie thrust forward on the next stroke, I too pushed forward -- and Charlotte was impaled on both holes.

Again, Susie and I found our rhythm quickly. We withdrew together; thrust deep into Charlottes helpless body together -- so deep, that I could feel the tip of the strap-on inside Charlotte as I sank my cock further into her ass. And although being impaled on us both meant that we were bearing Charlotte's weight, too, I pulled down on her shoulders so that again she began to choke.

This time there was no mistaking it. Charlotte had fought against us ever since I'd originally taken control of her on the aeroplane but I'd suspected, based on the way her body was reacting, that she found this physically stimulating, if mentally and emotionally degrading. And if ever I needed proof, this was it. As Susie and I increased our pace still further; as I teased and tugged Charlottes nipples; as her breathing became more and more tortured -- her body offered up the ultimate betrayal. There was no doubt that the strangled yells from Charlotte and the almost spastic twitching of her inner muscles meant that she was in the throes of an enormous orgasm -- one which went on, and on, and on and which, finally, tipped the balance for me. Once more, I exploded inside Charlotte -- this time, deep inside her ass as Susie, too, flushed uncontrollably from the orgasm sweeping through her, brought about by the pressure of the strap-on against her clit.

Three of us. Spent. Exhausted. Sated.

For now...