Goddess Within

"You see now? You see how you look? You'll set his blood on fire."

"I don't know. I feel self-conscious."

"Of course. Of course you do. So did I my first time."

Madhuri went back to her chair and sat down. She clapped her hands. "Stefan! Leo! Bring in the toys!" Turning to Claire she said, "Don't move. You're perfect."

Claire looked down at herself, at her bare thighs showing above her stockings, the thin crotch of her panties separating her sex from these men's eyes.

The dancing-boy came back in along with another boy dressed just like him. The boxes and packages were starting to pile up now and spill off of the coffee table.

"These are the finest products in the world," Madhuri said. "Japan, Germany, Finland, Czechoslovakia. The Thais are doing very clever things these days too."

Claire was quite aware that, although there were three men present and she was sitting with her skirt up around her waist, she felt no shame or embarrassment. She felt quite natural, in fact, as if being waited on like this were quite normal.

"Here," Madhuri said. "Stefan, the Blue Snake."

Stefan was black and lean, his skin a delicious cocoa-bean brown. He opened a box and withdrew a massive dildo, made of blue plastic balls joined together. He held it and presented it to Claire as if it were a bouquet of roses. It was at least a foot long.

"Oh my God, Madhuri! What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Well that's up to you, but I wanted you to see the quality. It's silicone, but there's none of that gooeyness or stickiness; very lifelike and warm, biopolymer. Feel it."

"Really, I couldn't..."

"Oh, just feel it, Claire!"

She reached out and ran her fingers over it. It had that same softness of surface with underlying hardness as a penis. The series of balls, penetrating her, would feel wonderful, and so much, so deep.

Claire smiled as Madhuri refilled her cup and poured in more liquor. She looked up at Stefan but his eyes were veiled. She realized from his aura of exquisite calm and detachment that he must be gay.

"Madhuri, really!"

"Leo, the Revolver."

Leo's features looked Asian, his head was shaved, and he opened a box and removed a plastic dildo with a suction cup base and a battery pack attached by a cord. When he turned it on, the shaft began a slow, obscene revolution like a finger twirling in the air.

"Oh my God," Claire exclaimed. "I don't believe that! That's fantastic! Did Eric order that too?"

"No. These are just samples. But come. Stefan? The nipple pump."

He opened the box to produce an implement that looked something like an ice cream scoop with a rubber ring where the scoop should be. Madhuri held out her hand for it and he gave it to her, and she turned it on and then gestured for Claire's hand. She pressed the rubber ring against Claire's palm, and Claire squealed as the ring began to apply soft suction to her flesh.

"We have a host of products, Claire. Things you can hardly imagine. Let me show you..."

"Oh, Madhuri, I don't know. I mean..."

But the older woman had already stood up and was opening her blouse, and Claire could find no polite way to stop her. She certainly didn't want to make a scene in front of the men, and before she knew what had happened, her blouse was opened and one cup of her bra was down and the nipple pump was affixed to her right breast, sucking and coaxing at it in a way that sent thrills down to the juncture between her legs. Claire tried to speak, tried to say something, but all she could do was hum with pleasure and alarm at how easily her body responded to this lewd manipulation.

Claire sat uneasily, her back straight, trying to project some sense of dignity, though she realized she was subtly pressing her breast against the device in Madhuri's hand. The plastic was warm. Her breast was warm; the entire right side of her body was warm from the radiance of the fire that filled the lion's mouth with radiant, masculine heat. Stefan and Leo stood only a few feet away like serving eunuchs awaiting Madhuri's orders, admiring Claire's beauty but doing nothing. Their own delicate androgynous perfection was strangely arousing. Claire lowered her lashes and glanced at their crotches. It was hard to tell but she thought their cocks were hard. She thought they were getting off on looking at her body, on seeing her pleasure, and the knowledge made her feel soft and liquid inside.

Madhuri seemed to notice everything Claire looked at, everything she thought. "Yes," she said. "Eric was right about you. You're a very sensuous woman. You just need to be exposed to the right stimulus. Move over to this chair, Claire. Over here."

She helped Claire move over to another chair, an ornately carved, wooden, upholstered chair, free of the mess of boxes and tissue paper, and helped her sit, the nipple pump still working maddeningly at her breast. Claire was in heaven, all traces of shame and inhibition gone. Her breasts weren't overly large but had always been exquisitely sensitive, and now she was running on erotic overload. Strangely, something about being in the presence of the three men only increased her sense of dissipation and salaciousness. Had they been women, she would have been embarrassed. Had they been straight men, she would have been terribly humiliated. But they were gay, and they were admirers of women, and she knew they were on her side. Yet even so, they were still men enough that witnessing her fall into this sexual stupor fascinated them and shamed her, and her own shame was intoxicating to her.

Most interesting was David. Stefan had the exaggerated Negroid features of an African tribal mask and Leo's face was smooth and inscrutable, but David was coquettishly beautiful, his blonde hair hanging delinquently in his forehead, a sensuous pout always hovering about his lips. A young James Dean or David Bowie, perhaps. He seemed least interested in what Claire was experiencing. He was much more concerned with the mess in the shop.

"Put your arms up, dear," Madhuri said softly, and she lifted Claire's right wrist, never stopping with the breast pump. From behind, Leo bound a silk scarf around her wrist and tied it to the back of the chair.

"No!" Claire protested. "What are you doing?"

Stefan took her left wrist and bound it similarly so her hands were tied loosely but securely at shoulder level to the decorative carvings that framed the cushion at the back of the chair. Claire seemed to wake up from her trance and pulled feebly at the scarves, to no effect.

"It's simply to help you in your evaluation, dear," Madhuri said. "You won't be harmed."

She removed the pump and stood up. "Now there's someone here who'd like to take part in our experiment. Eric?"

Eric walked out of the back of the shop, a pleased smile on his face. He came up to Claire and kissed her on the cheek. "Hello, darling."

"My God, Eric! What are you doing here?"

"I'm paying for all this. I thought I'd like to sit in."

"Officially he's recording data," Madhuri said as she finished unbuttoning Claire's blouse. "He's paying for all this. He knows you. Who better to gauge your responses?"

"But Eric, what is all this? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"You never would have come if I'd told you. And how could I have explained what they do here?"

"But what are they going to do to me?"

Madhuri smiled "Nothing, nothing really. Just see how you respond to some stimuli. That's all." Madhuri put down the pump. "Stefan, Leo, lift her feet up."

The two men in black came over and lifted her unresisting ankles so that her feet were on the seat of the chair. They used more silk scarves to tie them there, leaving her with her knees pointing up, her ankles touching her buttocks. Claire thought now that she must have been drugged in some way, possibly through the liquor. She was too compliant, too calm, and far too aroused. Her skirt was still tucked up around her waist, and with her ankles tied up against her buttocks, only the thin strip of fabric of her panties hid her sex from this veritable crowd of people and their room full of sex toys and devilish devices. Why then should she feel so eager? So excited?

Eric's eyes lingered on her hungrily, and Madhuri finally had to take his shoulder and lead him back so Stefan and Leo could approach with two dildos in their hands. Their faces were blank, composed, entirely neutral as they held these obscene things and began to rub them over Claire's panties, sliding them over her pussy, her belly, her ass, running them snakelike over her lower body as she gasped and arched in the chair, her pussy suddenly flooding with moisture.

It was terrible. Claire owned a couple of vibrators herself of course, and Eric had bought her any number of them, but she wasn't especially enamored of them, but now, seeing them being pushed over her body like this, like some sort of evil insects or devilish monsters, they set off an absolute flood of excitement within her, a desire to be pierced and penetrated, to be tied down, spread apart and used before these people as if she actively desired it—punctured and entered and impaled by this mad plastic, her cunt violated and shown up for the whore she was. She felt as though she'd been split into two people: one ruled by her brain fighting for her sanity and another ruled by her pussy trying to suck half the world inside and they were struggling for control of her while she herself could only sit there and watch helplessly, not even certain whom she wanted to win.

Eric stood a few feet away, oblivious to this battle, leaning against a display counter and holding the clipboard, obviously at a loss for what to do with it, and Claire looked around despondently, realizing no one knew what was going on. No one but Madhuri, maybe. Madhuri seemed to know everything. She could tell from the look in her eyes.

"Eric! This is embarrassing! Make them stop!"

"Oh, come now," Madhuri said softly, directing Leo to carry a table out of the way. "Leo, wipe off her boots. We don't want her getting water on the velour."

Claire felt Leo lift her feet and wipe her boots with a towel and she pulled feebly at the yellow silk scarves that held her wrists. It was such a handsome chair, Regency, yet she was displayed so lewdly upon it, no better than a whore, her blouse open, both cups of her bra down, the crotch of her panties stretched tight over the plane of her pussy. Stefan and Leo crouched at the foot of the chair, Stefan holding a dildo and Leo a vibrator against her panties, regarding her with cold, professional detachment. First Stefan would glide the long, segmented dildo against her crotch, pressing hard enough to cause it to push the fabric against her labia, teasing her, sawing it slowly back and forth, then he would slyly make it creep away beneath the hills of her buttocks as Leo passed the buzzing vibrator all the way around her thigh, dipping the dip inside her panties and wagging the tip over her aroused clit which tented the fabric of her tight panties, causing her to gasp out loud despite herself and make her clench her stomach hard, her mouth hanging open in shock at the overwhelming pleasure.

"Her clitoris is quite sensitive," Madhuri remarked without taking her eyes from the girl. "You're aware of that, Eric?"

"Er...yes. I'm always very careful."

"Well, she might have had a clumsy lover before you who traumatized her. You'd be wise to be gentle. But come now, Eric. You needn't fool with that silly clipboard. Come and kiss her."

He laid the clipboard down on the display case and came over to where Claire was panting in the chair, the long, smooth abductor muscles of her thighs flexing automatically in a vain attempt to close her legs. He tipped her head back and kissed her, his lips licking hers. Claire moaned, surrendering her mouth to his, and gave up the fight, her legs falling open. She shuddered, her fingers balling into fists against her palms. It was so terribly lewd to be used like this, kissed and fondled and played with, having these obscene toys run over her panties while she remained tied in this chair, spread and exposed for all to see. It was shame and it was pleasure, and it was shame again for her pleasure to be seen, to be witnessed—how easily she turned on and responded to the touch of the plastic devices, the men's touch, the homosexuals who didn't even care about her; their lewd curiosity about her cunt ands her plumbing, so demeaning, cheapening. She groaned, sighed and hummed into Eric's mouth, loving the feel of his harsh lips against her.

"Tell me, Claire," Madhuri appeared at her side and slipped the nipple pump between Claire and Eric. She pressed it against Claire's naked tit and applied suction and it pulled at her nipple like a demented baby's mouth. Just a machine, but how riotously good it felt! "How do you feel now? Ashamed? Embarrassed?"

Eric broke his kiss to allow her to answer. Claire's thighs were shaking and she was pulling at her bonds as she said, "Yes! Stop it! It's terrible! I don't like this! I don't like being used this way!"

Eric looked concerned but Madhuri said, "Oh, I don't think that's quite the case. 'Used' is a nasty word. After all, we're pleasuring you and pleasuring ourselves. I think a part of you is quite excited to be seen like this, and yet a part of you is quite threatened that your real self will be seen, isn't it, Claire? A part of you doesn't want to lose that control."

"No!" Claire said. "No, that's not true!"

Madhuri pushed gently on the back of Eric's head, showing him he was to kiss her again, and he fell gladly to the task, consumed by hot emotion. He took Claire's hair in his hand and covered her mouth with his, bending her back so that her hips slid forward slightly on the chair till they ran into her bound ankles. The vibrator in Stefan's hand buzzed loudly, the hum being muffled as it slipped beneath Claire's thighs and buttocks, and Madhuri snapped her fingers down between Claire's spread legs as she watched Eric kiss her, trying to get Leo's attention.

Leo picked up a curious instrument, a long, double-pronged dildo with a handle made of a clear plastic, one end shaped like a penis, the other thinner, intended for anal penetration. With the handle, the thing looked like a lyre or the frame for a kind of paddle with the top missing.

Acting as a kind of traffic director, Madhuri pulled Eric away and brought Stefan forward so that Claire could see the two-headed crystal wand in his hand. Madhuri put her hand over Stefan's and guided him as she stroked the appliance gently over Claire's face and mouth, one way and then the other, caressing her with it.

"This is going to enter you, Claire. It's going to enter your pussy and your ass and fill you up, stretch you nicely, and I think we'll have Eric suck your clit while we're doing that. Or would you rather suck him off? Perhaps you're more comfortable giving pleasure than receiving?"

Claire couldn't answer. The scene had changed completely and yet only subtly—the Vivaldi still played—a different track now, the strings swelling with pregnant assonance—the fire still blazed, the steam still rose from the cups of coffee—but now she was sitting with her boots up on the seat of the chair and her ankles tied to the arms, her wrists bound to the ornate back, and Stefan and Leo knelt at her feet like servants as she sat in total dishabille in front of them, the crotch of her panties moist with the evidence of her own desire. It was humiliating; it was thrilling, liberating. The room shone with the gleam of soft fabrics. It was like being in a flower, a womb—sensual, almost cruelly sexual

"God," Eric muttered, passing his hand over her body, her breasts, her belly. "She's such a whore!"

"Now, Eric," Madhuri remonstrated. "You mean that in a good way, don't you?"

But Claire hardly minded. What "good way"? Something was changing in her. Something was pulling free inside of her, becoming unstuck and spreading its wings, and it was something beyond good and evil, something that kissed but also bit, fucked but also stabbed, loved and murdered in equal amounts. Something delicious and dangerous—saliva and semen and milk and blood...

"Shall I use the scissors, Madame?" David asked, and Madhuri shook her head.

"No. I rather think she likes these panties, and she'll probably want them as a memento. And I think Claire would prefer being violatedaround them. What do you think, Eric?"

"Yes, probably. She's always enjoyed being touched through her panties."

"Oh no!" Claire gasped. "What are you going to do?"

"Here. Let me." Madhuri slipped on a pair of latex gloves and took the double-headed dildo from Stefan. She opened a jar of expensive looking cream and greased it up, her hand moving sensuously over the clear plastic projections.

"Eric, you may kiss her, caress her breasts, her body," Madhuri said as she moved in front of the bound girl. Stefan and Leo scooted out of the way and David stepped back, bending to pick up some of the empty boxes, ever mindful of the neatness of the place.

"Eric, don't! Don't let them do this! What are you doing? This is rape! This is just rape!"

"Oh really," he said. "It isn't as bad as all that, now."

He put his arm around her and kissed her, brushing her hair out of her face. She resisted him at first, but it was all too much for her, sitting there with her legs up and exposed. His hand slid down her belly and under her panties, over her shaved mons and between her slick, shaved labia to the hood of her clit, bathed in a thick slime of female secretions. Claire groaned in anger and frustration at the way her body had betrayed her, but at the same time she just let herself go, let herself fall into victimhood. There was nothing she could do, no way she could resist, and then she felt Madhuri's thinner, surer fingers plucking at the sopping crotch band of her panties, pulling it to the side. She was aware of the other men standing there and her eyes sought them out, but they had assumed attitudes of haughty detachment, and she realized that once her pussy were penetrated she'd be of no more interest to them. She'd just be another piece of ass, a bitch, a fuck, no longer woman the ideal and homosexual icon. She was about to be humanized.

She felt the cool hard plastic touch her vagina as Madhuri maneuvered the head into position and begin to press it inside.

"No! Eric! Stop her! No!"

There was love in his eyes, and there was something feral and violative as well; something male and possessive. My cock in you! My prick in your cunt, bitch! He didn't say a word, but she could see the excitement in his eyes as Madhuri bent over her.

She squeezed her thighs, curled her toes, dug her nails into her palms, but the plastic penis pressed easily up into her pussy, opening her up and finding her ready. She was ashamed at the avidity with which her pussy gripped the thing, the great sense of hungry relief with which her body welcomed it. It shamed her, set her on fire with her own whorishness, and then Eric leaned over her and her tongue burst into his mouth with obscene gratitude, licking and lolling against his teeth as Madhuri pressed the thing into her. It felt heavenly, divine. Even the stream of her own juice that squeezed out of her cunt and ran down her ass felt divine. She felt piggish, filled, plugged, and satiated.

"Yes, you like that, don't you, Claire? Yes, of course you do, of course you fucking do!" Madhuri hissed, holding Claire's panties to the side with one hand and gently twisting the dildo with the other.

Claire groaned, closed her eyes, sucked at Eric's lips and tightened her toes in her boots. How wonderful it was to have a cunt! How wonderful to be filled with something, to have a man kissing her, to be watched by other men who admired and envied her pussy, that mysterious, pleasure-filled hole between her legs. She looked up at Madhuri, at that beautiful face filled with Eastern calm and wisdom and ferocious excitement as she plied the dildo into Claire's wonderfully stuffed cunt, and she looked at the men, at handsome Leo, enigmatic Stefan, surly David, her own Eric. He was hard too. She could see the bulge in the front of his pants. All of them were fascinated with her, concentrated on her, on the stream of her own liquid spilling from her cunt, on her nipples standing rigidly up from her tits which trembled from her frantic breathing.