The Devil's Mistresses Ch. 03

Saw their eyes, which were black as death, and which burned red around the edges like hot coals.

Roger abruptly stepped back. They didn't move slowly now. They separated, flanking him, backing him into a corner. Roger's erection deflated in just a few heartbeats.

"What, what's wrong with them?" he blurted. There was laughter from above. He looked up and saw that all eyes were on him, watching intently. "Stop them!" he yelled at Joubert.

"My dear friend, it is much to late for that now. They have your scent now. They must have you."

"Please, help me!" He was almost sick with fear. The women had eyes out of a nightmare, eyes filled with rage and lust and violence. Roger tried to control the fear, tried to get himself under control. He was bigger than both women. He was in excellent physical shape. He would break their lovely necks and run for it.

He raised his fists and stepped toward the blonde. The gallery broke into howls of laughter. "Bon chance!" one man called from above.

Roger advanced to within five feet of the blonde woman and set himself to throw a punch. The blonde showed no fear and made no attempt to protect herself. Her only protection was the intense, feral smile that slowly spread across her red lips.

"Get out of my way!" He tried to sound commanding, but his voice broke halfway through.

The blonde's smile remained frozen in place, and then her lips parted, and the pink tip of her tongue appeared. Her tongue touched her upper lip...then her lower lip...

And then her chin...

And then her nipple...

When at last she was done, she confronted Roger with a tongue that was over ten inches long.

Roger trembled from head to toe, trying to scream, trying to do anything except stand there quaking in terror. He looked right, at the dark-haired girl, and her tongue was as long as her mother's, a slick pink obscenity wiggling like an enormous worm. With an effort he tore his eyes away from the wiggling tongues and looked at the gallery with beseeching eyes. "Stop this, please," he begged.

The men and women who stared back no longer looked smug, no longer laughed. Their faces were serious, and fascinated, like people witnessing the aftermath of a terrible car wreck. "Stop them!" Roger screamed.

"It is too late, my friend," Joubert said. "It is much, much too late."

Roger's eyes flashed back to the blonde, who circled to Roger's left, and so took his eyes off her daughter, who slid to his right. Roger backed up against the front wall of the court and recoiled as his heels clanked against the metal strip that ran along the bottom of the front wall.

The sound frightened and distracted Roger, and the women attacked in tandem. The blonde whore feinted, and when Roger scuttled sideways the young woman struck. She leapt at Roger, diving at his crotch, and before Roger could jerk away fingers closed around his doughy cock. Her slithering tongue shot out like a python striking a mouse, coiling around and around and around his penis.

The pleasure hit Roger like a punch to the gut. He let out a long, cowlike moan. His penis immediately became erect as the girl sucked his head into her mouth. It was ecstasy on a scale that Roger never knew existed. The young whore's mouth closed around him and her tongue massaged up and down his entire length. Her tongue was slippery but it wasn't perfectly smooth. It was oddly striated, and to Roger's galloping mind it was as though her tongue was scoring narrow grooves into his cock.

"HUHHH, UHHH, UHHHH!" Roger bleated as the young woman before him sucked him whole. Her full lips were spread tight by the girth of his penis, and as Roger broke out in a hot, pouring sweat he thought that, at least, this girl would make him come quickly and it would all be over.

The mother slid behind him and slithered her arms around his waist. She pressed herself against his back and Roger heard her breath rasp in his ear. "He is stronnnnnnnng," she hissed to her daughter. "There is much life in this one. We shall have a feast, my darling."

The dark-haired girl didn't release her oral grip on Roger's cock, but she was still able to gurgle, "Yes, Momma."

The woman behind him released her hold on him, but Roger's mind was far too occupied to wonder where the she went. The younger whore's tongue was gripping his cockmeat and her mouth was sucking at him and it felt so GOOD that Roger could barely breath. Rivulets of sweat were pouring off his chin and spattering on the hardwood floor. The girl's diabolical eyes held him entranced while her dark red lips stroked up and down his shaft.

He was so focused on the young girl kneeling between his legs that, when her mother knelt behind Roger, pried his buttocks apart, and inserted every inch of her tongue into his rectum, it felt to Roger as though someone had shot him in the back.

"GRRRAAAAAUUUUGGGHHH!" he screamed. "HUUH! HUH! GRAAUUUGGHHH!!!!

He had a tongue all the way up his ass and a tongue doing God knows what to his penis and the pleasure, the PLEASURE, was almost more than he could bear. It felt like the blonde's tongue was so far inside him that it was licking the INSIDE of his penis, while her daughter sucked and licked the skin outside. As both muscular tongues undulated inside and over him Roger had the sensation that mother and daughter were engaged in a passionate French kiss, with his body as a feeble barrier keeping them apart.

"Uh, uh, I'm going to come," Roger babbled, and this comment brought laughter from the gallery.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Travers." Joubert chuckled. And then, in a light, gentle tone, "My darling, go ahead. Go ahead. Hurt the man."

"No!" Roger sobbed. "Please, no!"

"Hurt him, my angel."

The eyes of the young girl sucking his cock blazed an even deeper red. A gurgling growl rose up from her throat, mostly muffled by the thick cock in her mouth. She reached between Roger's legs and caressed his testicles, played with his balls with her dragon-lady fingernails. The mother did the same, her nails stroking the incredibly sensitive strip of flesh between his anus and balls. He moaned with even more urgency, unable to conceal how much he loved this additional sensation.

And then the girl grabbed the base of his testes in her hand and squeezed. At first the pressure was light but bit by bit she increased the pressure. And then just before the pleasure turned to pain she squeezed with crushing force and yanked down hard and Roger felt his testicles crunch under her vise-like grip. He braced himself for the pain, he waited for the pain, and yet none came. All he felt was numbness, a large dangling void just below his throbbing cock.

"I think now, Mr. Travers, you won't need to worry about ejaculating too soon." And the gallery laughed.

Roger tried to look between his legs, looking for dripping blood, but he could see nothing except for the gorgeous young woman with her mouth filled with his manhood. He felt the blonde's fingers slide up his thighs until, he believed, she filled her hands with his damaged testicles. He couldn't be sure, because they were no longer connected to his spinal cord.

The pleasure radiating from his groin grew, and grew, and grew, to a point where it blocked out all other thoughts. His field of vision narrowed to the girl kneeling before him. He could hear the loud sticky sucking sounds coming from her mouth, hear the blonde woman behind him going, "ummm...ummm..." as she ruthlessly burrowed into his anus with her tongue. Roger's lips grew dry as he hyperventilated though his open mouth, and his body rained perspiration that puddle around his feet. His heart pounded so hard that he was afraid he might go into arrest. It was like he was climbing an endless staircase with a backpack full of bricks.

"Uhhhhhh...uhhhhh...uhhhh!!" Roger moaned pathetically as the two whores took him to higher and higher plateaus of ecstasy. The mother thrust her tongue so far inside Roger that he thought it would come out of his own mouth, and then he felt the blonde whore glue her lips to his sphincter and start sucking noisily, sucking and sucking and sucking and it felt so good that Roger burst into tears that mixed with his sweat.

It went on and on and Roger waited to come. He waited, and waited, and yet he could not come, he couldn't finally crest the summit of the pleasure and tumbled into the wonderful abyss of orgasm. He wanted to come, he wanted this to end before he went insane. The tongue caressing his penis whirled and wrung his penis like a Moray eel slashing at its prey. The tongue inside his rectum found nerve endings Roger didn't know he had, giving the pleasure an almost inhuman tinge. He felt that he was enjoying a physical sensation not meant for men to comprehend.

"All right, my darlings, that's enough." Roger was only dimly aware of Joubert's voice, but the words broke through the haze of rapture. Joubert was showing mercy. Joubert was allowing Roger to escape from this exquisite prison. "Thank God, let me come!" he said.

The gallery laughed again. "Oh, no, my friend. No, no, no. My darlings have not yet shown you the full measure of their talents. Go on, my darlings."

The tongue inside Roger extracted itself with a loud, wet "SLURRRP!". The mouth engulfing his penis withdrew, and that other infernal tongue unwrapped itself from his penis. Without their touch, Roger's body went limp from exhaustion. He collapsed on the wooden floor as though he'd been shot in the head. He lay in a lake of his own sweat, his frantic heart beating in his ears and his penis.

The mother gave Roger two seconds to recover, no more. She rolled Roger on his back, crawled between his legs, and devoured his cock just as her daughter had, with mouth and supernatural tongue. "Oh, Christ Jesus, help me!" Roger said.

"I asked him before, if he believed in God," Joubert said to his guests. "He said no. I must remember to ask him that question afterwards."

Roger tried to say something, anything, but his mouth was parched, salty sweat streamed into his eyes, and the blonde whore's bloody eyes stared at him with terrible menace as she sucked and licked him into ecstatic madness. "It feels so good!" Roger sobbed.

Joubert said, "Then I think you will enjoy this."

The young girl squatted over Roger's groin. She eased herself down, down, down, until his exposed cockhead touched the petals of her clean-shaven pussy. He barely touched her vagina, and yet the heat from her was so intense that Roger thought he actually heard a sizzling sound.

He squirmed, and broke the alignment of their bodies just a bit. The mother, her tongue still wrapped around his shaft, tightened her constricting hold and a flash of pain somehow penetrated the fog of pleasure that so dominated Roger's mind. "Oh, ah, OHH!" he moaned, and was still.

The girl settled herself over his cock. Her mother kept her tongue wrapped around Roger's dick, even as her daughter impaled herself. "Oh, Jesus!" Roger exclaimed, and the crowd laughed again at his blasphemy. The girl's pussy felt like nothing he'd ever experienced. It was painfully hot, impossibly tight-and it appeared to be lined with soft, slippery cilia, gossamer threads that caressed his cockhead in a totally unique and mind-bending way. It was tight, and slippery, but the silky hairs excited his nerve endings like direct current.

The girl started bouncing up and down his entire shaft, while her mother's anteater tongue twisted all along his length. The girl's buttocks rubbed against her mother's face in this demonic position, and for the first time the girl showed some sign that she was enjoying herself. Her wide nipples grew stiff buds in the center, and she closed her eyes and moaned, a sound something like a hyena celebrating a kill.

"Mama," the girl said in a desiccated voice that rattled like something beyond the grave, "We are killing him. We are stealing his soul."

"No!" Roger groaned, but it was true. He was starting to pant like a man in the throes of a heart attack. He could barely vocalize his pleasure, his throat was so dry that his voice box failed him.

The gorgeous girl corkscrewed up and down his penis, and with every movement of her hips Roger writhed and twisted with bliss. Her enormous breasts bobbed and jiggled with every downward snap of her hips. The girl let her fingernails scrape against his chest. "We will steal your life essence," she hissed. "We will make you our slave for eternity."

Roger lacked the strength now to fight. He just wanted to come, then die. He wanted to orgasm before he died. After all this pleasure, he wanted the satisfaction of climax to make his death acceptable.

"Mr. Travers," Joubert said. "Can you hear me?"

Roger's head lolled up and down. "Mr. Travers, do you want to come?"

He found voice. "Yes!"

"Mr. Travers, tell me the account and routing numbers of your personal bank accounts, as well as the password protocols that will allow me to access them."

Roger's voice gurgled before he said, "Fu...fuck you."

Joubert's voice was gentle. "Mr. Travers, they can hold you in this state for hours. Hours. In the end you will tell me what I want to know, but you will be so shattered in your mind that you will never have another day of peace. Give me the information, and I will allow to climax. I give you my most solemn word."

The daughter leaned down, her pussy still fucking him delirious. "Tell him nothing!" she said. "We do not want your money. We only want your soul. Do not be afraid, we will make your passage into slavery a pleasant one." Her eyes radiated an evil Roger had never experienced in his life.

Roger shook his head. His body was jerking spasmically now, almost to the point of seizure. "Ah...I..." he licked his lips, trying to speak.

Joubert said, "My darling, help our guest."

The girl leaned down and extended her long, wet tongue into his mouth. It disgusted Roger, but the moistness of her tongue was so exquisite that he sucked on it greedily, sucking as much of her saliva as possible into his parched mouth.

She leaned back. Roger said, "I have only one personal account that is directly accessible. All my other accounts must be countersigned by my financial advisors."

"What?" Joubert said, annoyed. "Why would you do such an absurd thing?"

The girl kept fucking him and it took Roger a moment to compose himself enough to speak. "I have too much money, I can't keep track of it. I have three different advisors who all hate each other. Two of them have to sign off along with me on everything I do. Keeps me from getting ripped off by one of them. They're too eager to rat out the others."

Joubert looked angry, but not at Roger. He whirled and spoke to two men, one Chinese and the other Western, who looked frightened and looked at each other before they answered Joubert's unintelligible questions. Even in this tortured state Roger recognized an executive who had been let down by his subordinates. They hadn't known about his financial arrangements, which didn't exactly surprise Roger since he'd only put it into place three weeks before, just in case he was kidnapped.

"You're thinking was quite sound, my friend, quite sound." Joubert said with a sigh. "I did not anticipate this. Ah well. Give me the data on your private account. How much is in there?"

Roger's eyes rolled back in his head. "Let me come, please, and I'll tell you."

The gallery laughed, and Joubert said, "I admire you, sir. Trying to bargain when you have no leverage, literally as well as figuratively. Believe me when I say that if you do not tell me what I want, I will have my darling angels love you to death. That is what she and her mother want. They will take turns with you until you die, and then they will hump your corpse until you involuntarily ejaculate from simple animal instinct. That is what they want. I want to save your life. All it costs you is the money in your account."

Roger wanted to die. But he didn't want these two horrors to fuck him to death. He wanted to come. He wanted to come more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. Any price was a small one to pay in exchange, so it didn't bother Roger much to tell Joubert what he wanted.

"I have eleven million, five hundred thousand dollars in the account. The account number is 8752930576. The routing number is 043100587."

"Are you set up for on-line wire transfer?"

"Yes."

"Annabel!" Joubert said.

"Ah'm already logged on to the website," he heard his fluffer say. "I need the ID and passwords."

Roger gave her the code words she needed. There was a pause of a few seconds, even the two whores stopped.

Annabel said, "It's done. It'll take a few minutes to erase all traces of the transfer."

"Thank you, my dear," Joubert said. He sighed. "I'd hoped for more from this meeting, but," he opened his palms, "oh well. No need to be greedy."

The girl slid off of Roger's penis. The woman removed her tongue. "Give him to us!" the mother begged.

"No, my angels. We must honor our agreement." Roger managed to roll his head enough to look up at Joubert. "Mr. Travers, I will allow you to finish. My darlings, accommodate our friend."

Roger wasn't sure he understood what was going on, but the blonde whore got on her arms and legs and crawled up to him. She rubbed her smooth, heart-shaped ass against his crotch.

"Oh, oh, oh!" he cried in desperation. He was beyond simple exhaustion, yet the sight of such a voluptuous, gorgeous creature offering him her body gave him a last burst of energy. His penis was huge and throbbing, and it was indeed cross-hatched with unnatural scratches and grooves. He inserted himself in the mother's pussy and screamed like a man insane.

He fucked her. He fucked her fast. He fucked her hard. For the first time in this torturous encounter he was the initiator of the coupling, and he was driven to frantic, spastic motion by the colossal desire he felt for this demon made flesh. His very DNA screamed for him to fuck her, to inseminate this terrible creature with his sperm and mix his genes with hers.

His thighs slapped against her buttocks with such force and speed that the sound of his skin on hers sounded like spastic applause for his efforts. But still, he didn't come. He quickly built to the highest level of unsatisfied lust that he'd suffered the entire night, but his orgasm still refused to detonate.

The daughter moved in behind him. She did not ram her tongue up his asshole. At first he did not know what she was doing. But as he piledrove her mother he felt the girl's hands brush his thighs, and he guessed that she was kneading his crushed testicles. He didn't care about them, he didn't care if they were permanently damaged. He just wanted them to have the power push one last load of sperm through his cock and into the vagina of this devil woman.

The girl put her chin on his ear and hissed, "We may not kill you, but we will drink your very life's force. The next time, I will make a gift of your soul to my mother."

He felt a hard tug between his legs. He didn't feel it directly in his testicles, but he felt his groin forced down. "Are you ready?" the girl hissed.

"YES!" Roger screamed.

"Good," the girl cackled. There was another tug, and she said, "Here comes the pain..."

At first it was the sensation of pins and needles, of a pinched limb tingling as the blood flow is restored, but this tingling was deep within his groin. Then came a feeling of pressure, more and more pressure, pressure like a tire overinflating with every beat of his heart.

"Uh, uh, UHHHH!" Roger groaned. He looked between his legs and screamed. His testicles were swollen big as grapefruit. They were dark purple in color. And they hurt. Pain blasted from his groin like the blaring of a foghorn. It was pain of such overwhelming intensity that Roger nearly stopped fucking this gorgeous blonde monster.