Bacchus

Bron spun her in his arm until she was straddling his hips, facing him on the couch. She weakly pushed at his chest, but he took her head in his hand and pulled her face to his for a kiss. His mouth was coated in her juices, and she refused to open her mouth, so he slid his left hand down her back to stroke her ass. He dipped lower and shoved his middle finger easily into her slick pussy.

Sasha gasped at the sudden penetration, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth to share her essence with her. He felt her tremble again as his finger pumped in and out of her wetness in time with his thrusting tongue. She tried to bite him, so he slid the muscle further into her mouth until it hit the back of her throat. She didn't gag, but her eyes flew open, and she beat rapidly on his chest as her muscles all tensed up. Then her body was rocking through a powerful orgasm again, and her tight muscles lost tone and spasmed. He felt her jaw muscles go slack.

Before she could recover, he slipped his finger from her and lifted her up his body. Her legs went over his shoulders, and he rested her torso across his outstretched right arm. His right hand had a firm but not painful grip on her neck, trapping her in place.

He slid his tongue roughly up the crack of her ass, over the rosebud of her tight sphincter, across the sensitive surface of her perineum, spreading the lips of her pussy wide while dipping shallowly inside, to finally rub over her overcharged clit. She jolted and screamed as the overload of pleasure bordered on pain.

He repeated this three times, and on the fourth pass, he surprised her by slipping the tip of his tongue into her ass. Her thighs slammed shut around his head, but she couldn't stop his tongue from continuing to slide inside.

"Oh god! My asssssss! Oh yes, fuck me! My asssssssss!" she hissed, then she could no longer make intelligible sounds. He felt the muscles in her ass clenching, again and again, trying to expel his intruding muscle, but he could ignore her efforts. He pulled his tongue back, then slammed it deep inside again and again as Sasha wailed. Her pussy was leaking continuously over his face now as her body went through one micro orgasm after another. He knew from her weakening movements she was reaching her limit. He slowly extracted his tongue and felt her thighs tightening, trying to keep him inside her. He gently lowered her just enough so he could place his mouth over her pussy. He ran the flat of his tongue over her reddened skin, and she jolted and twitched as the pleasure stabbed and exploded through her. Finally, her clit was between his lips, and he whisked the raw tissues with his tongue. Her body arched up between his grip on her neck and his mouth on her clit. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and her eyes flew wide open. She remained suspended for almost eight seconds, then her body collapsed as she passed out. Bron felt her muscles completely go limp. He carefully laid her out on the couch. She was breathing deeply, and a fine sheen of sweat covered her body. The couch she was on was covered with a small blanket, but the room was slightly cool, so Bron felt for the couch to the left and tugged its blanket free. He carefully placed it over the sleeping woman and kissed her forehead.

"Sasha, you are loved, and you are worthy of love," he whispered into her ear. He knew it was just a drop in a bucket compared to four years of abuse, but you had to start some place.

He stood up, carefully made his way over to the wall, and felt his way along to the washroom. He stepped inside and started the shower. He was coated in the woman's juices. He spent a good ten minutes under the hot shower and stepped out refreshed. He dried himself off and went back out to check on Sasha.

She was still completely out, so he sat down next to the couch and waited.

He must have dozed off as he awoke when he felt lips on his forehead. He knew instantly it was Angelina. He smiled.

"Welcome home, Angelina," he said.

"Did you two have fun?" he heard her say with a smile in her voice.

"Can we go upstairs?" he asked.

Angelina paused. "Yes, come on." She guided him up to the kitchen, and they sat next to each other on the bench.

"Were you aware Sasha was abused when she was younger?" she asked.

"Yes, she told me she was raped when she was a girl. By someone close to her family," Angelina said sadly.

"She was eighteen when it happened. She played the video for me. I couldn't see it obviously, but I heard enough to know it was rape, and it was her," he said, shuddering at the memory.

"It was recorded!?!?" she gasped and jumped from the table. Bron heard her rush from the room. Moments later, she returned. Bron sat patiently until he heard the recording.

Angelina watched the video on her tablet and paid close attention to the man raping the young girl. His face was hidden by the mask, and he wore a long-sleeved black shirt and long black pants. Then he reached for something, and the sleeve pulled back. She froze the video. A tattoo. One she recognized.

Bron could feel her trembling with rage. "What is it?" he asked.

Angelina felt ill, then she felt an all-consuming rage. She didn't know what to do with it. She wanted to kill the man now that she knew who he was, but that was impossible as he'd died years before. She knew now that Sasha also knew the identity of her rapist and had kept that a secret. If he had been close to her family as she had claimed, that made her wonder once more about Sasha's actual background. She couldn't have come from the backwater sticks as she had told her friends. There was serious money and powerful families somewhere in Sasha's story. Something she was running from. Angelina looked at Bron, worried.

"What happened, Bron?" she asked.

"She told me she had been raped for four years, and that's why she needs it that way now. The sounds were really upsetting me, so I turned it off. She was touching herself and got really mad, so she tried to get the remote from me. Then she attacked me. I pinned her to the couch, but I think she was expecting me to rape her then. I can't do that. Her experience made her believe she needs it, but my conditioning prevents me from doing it. She screamed at me to fuck her. I didn't know what to do. I'm still too bruised down there, but I could still give her pleasure with my mouth. So I did it as hard and fast as she could take it. Was that wrong? What should I have done? I don't know how to help Sasha. Have I made her worse?" he asked plaintively. He was trembling as his conditioning kicked in at the possibility that he'd caused harm.

Angelina's heart went out to him. He was stuck in a no-win situation with Sasha. She'd have to have a talk with her friend when she woke up. "No, Bron. You did what she needed. She'll be fine in the morning." She saw his shoulders relax, and the trembling slowed to a stop. One crisis averted.

She made Bron his evening meal and went over her and her friend's class schedules to see if there was a way to limit the requirement to have Sasha watch over the big man. After a short time, she realized that she'd already subconsciously set up the schedule that way. Unless she just cut Sasha from the rotation entirely. She really needed to talk with her.

She heard a noise from behind her and turned to see Sasha standing in the doorway, naked.

"Do you have any clothes I could borrow? Your man there was a little rough on mine when he fucked me," she growled.

Angelina left to get some clothes, and Sasha wobbled across the room and fell into a chair across from Bron. The second she hit the seat, she hissed as her nerves flashed back into a surge of pleasure. The chain reaction shot through all the surfaces his tongue had gently abraded. Her head fell back as she trembled and shook as a series of micro-orgasms washed over her body. Her mind started to white-out, but she clung tenaciously to the table until she felt it coming back to her. She opened her eyes and saw Bron trying to remain still but trembling.

"Fuck, Bron! What did you do to me? You nasty fucker!" she gasped with a grin and trembled through a few more crests.

Angelina returned with some panties, yoga pants, and a t-shirt. She noticed her friend had come all over the chair, so she got a warm, wet facecloth to clean her up with. Sasha managed to get to her feet and take the cloth, but the moment she held it against her reddened flesh, her knees gave out, and she dropped it. Angelina caught her and pulled her over to Bron, who pulled her up against his chest as he sat back on the bench. Angelina freshened the cloth and tried to gently clean her friend, but every touch just set her off again.

Sasha was panting hard now. "Please, please--no more," she gasped as she writhed in Bron's firm and careful grasp.

Angelina gave up and just pulled the panties up her friend's legs to her knees. She left and returned with a thick feminine liner, which she attached to the crotch of the panties. Bron slipped his right arm under Sasha's back and his left around her chest as she leaned back against his chest. He lifted her so Angelina could pull the panties on and then the yoga pants. Sasha continued to tremble through the process and cling to his arm. Her nipples did their best to dig into his arm, not that he was aware of it. Angelina pulled the shirt over her head and pulled her friend's limp arms through the sleeves.

"You rode your motorcycle here, didn't you," Angelina asked.

Sasha only had enough strength to nod.

"Well, you're staying the night with us then. No way you'd survive the ride home," Angelina concluded.

Sasha nodded again. She looked up at her friend's worried look and smiled. "Holy fuck," she whispered.

"Sasha, you know Bron is incapable of hurting a human, right?" she asked her friend gently.

Eyes snapped open and looked fiercely at her. "The fucker just tore me a new one. I couldn't stop him! He tossed me around like I was nothing and took my ass cherry!"

Angelina looked up in shock at Bron, whose mouth was open with surprise. She looked back at her friend. "Did you tell him to stop?"

Sasha froze. "What?"

"After you told him to fuck you, at any time did you tell him to stop?" Angelina continued.

The woman in Bron's arms sputtered and looked around desperately. An angry look returned to her eyes. "I couldn't catch my breath from his fucking me over and over!"

"Bron can't open his pouch yet because of the bruising. He used his mouth and tongue," she said.

Sasha looked up at Bron's face, and he was nodding. "You didn't feel how he tossed my body around like it was just a toy. I was nothing in his hands. He wouldn't have taken no for an answer," she growled.

"Bron has to take no as no. He has no choice. If you said stop, he would stop unless to do so would physically hurt you. It's in his conditioning," Angelina patiently explained.

"Then why..."

"Because it was the closest I could get to what you wanted... and we love you," Bron said. It was easier for him to say we, as it didn't trip any reactions.

Sasha immediately tried to surge up out of his arms with an angry scream. This time he was ready and had her arms and legs trapped against himself. She couldn't thrash too much as doing so triggered the nerves in her tender groin, and she'd shake and jerk through another crest.

Finally, she was out of steam and sagged back against his chest. "Dirty fuckers," she grumbled.

"Yeah, but whatcha gonna do?" Angelina used Sasha's favorite line on her as she looked her in the eyes.

Sasha looked up surprised and saw the tender acceptance in Angelina's eyes. Something broke inside, and tears flowed. After the first sob, the floodgates opened, and Angelina was in her arms with Bron on the other side of the hug. They held the crying woman between them, and Angelina was crying freely as well.

After what seemed like an hour, the two women were cuddled together against Bron's chest with his arms around both of them. He could hear their deep and even breathing, so he allowed himself to slip into sleep as well.

Chapter 14

Bron sat nervously in the waiting room of the eye specialist Dr. Ryan had sent him to. Today he'd find out if he had any vision left in his abused eyes. He'd had to wait six weeks as the specialist was not available and rescheduled. He was assured that more time to heal would do him no harm, so he tried to be patient.

During the six weeks, he'd remained at the house and had become an expert at getting around without tumbling over the furniture. He'd only broken one vase and a glass. Pietr was very understanding but moved the valuable breakables just the same.

He'd also returned to his exercise routine and was back to his previous strength levels. He felt normal again, just without sight.

The ladies had done their best to keep his mind and body occupied. Sasha managed to leave Bron alone for a few days, but she'd recovered enough to demand a repeat performance the following week. She told him point-blank that once he could free his junk from his pouch, she wanted it in her ass. In the meantime, she was quite happy with his tongue being there.

Bailley was becoming far more comfortable kissing Bron, and he'd learned to let her lead. She was such a polar opposite of Sasha, but Bron looked forward to her visits the most.

Rhonda spent one afternoon with Bron out by the pool, and she asked him to apply lotion to her body. Without sight, he had to work by touch and quickly discovered that she wasn't wearing a bathing suit. He massaged the sunscreen from her face down her neck and over her shoulders, feeling her relax. He went down her arms to massage each finger, then over her back, working out all the knots and tension. Bron rubbed the tightness from her lower back and squeezed the tightness out of her ass muscles until she was deeply moaning. He stretched out her thighs and rubbed out the knots in her calves. He gently rolled her over and made his way back up her body from her toes to her thighs. He gently pried open her legs and licked her into a series of orgasms as his hands moved up to massage her breasts. A light roll and tug of her nipples as his tongue plunged deeply into her brought forth cries of joy. He ensured the areas he'd licked, kissed, and tweaked were coated with lotion and let her doze in her bliss. He made sure she was flipped onto her stomach and applied more sunscreen until he woke her in the late afternoon when he heard a car pull into the driveway. Angelina arrived to see Rhonda straightening her bikini top with a beatific smile on her face. She swore he had a career as a professional masseuse waiting for him regardless of his ability to see.

Bron heard his name called, and Angelina guided him into the doctor's examination room. She led him into a small booth where the doctor could control the amount of light he was exposed to. There was a chart on the wall he was facing. She closed the door on the booth and went out to sit with the doctor.

The control panel he sat next to had a screen that showed the feed from a pinhole camera in the chart. They could see Bron seated on the bench facing the camera. The doctor turned to Angelina.

"I understand his eyes were designed to be able to see exceptionally well in light as low as five to twenty-five lumen and found a room light setting of twenty percent to be bright as daylight and just a little uncomfortable. Is that the case?" he asked the young woman.

"That's right. He was far more comfortable at fifteen percent," she replied.

The doctor spoke into a microphone. "Bron, I'm going to cut off all light in the room, and I want you to remove your protective eyewear."

"Okay."

The screen went black. "Okay, Bron, it's safe to begin."

A few seconds later, they heard Bron's reply. "It's off. I see only blackness."

"Good. I am going to bring the illumination up to five percent of normal room ambiance. I'll do it slowly, but if you experience any discomfort, let me know, and I'll stop. All right?"

"Okay."

"One percent... two percent... three... four--"

"I can see!" Bron blurted.

"Easy Bron. Tell me what you see," the doctor said, trying to calm his patient.

"Sorry. Uh, I can see something in front of me. It's lighter in color than the surrounding surfaces," Bron described.

"Any details?"

"Uh, not yet."

"OK... five percent. How about now?"

"No."

"I'm going to bring the light up to ten percent. Same instructions as last time. If it becomes uncomfortable, let me know, and I will stop. Six percent... seven percent... eight... nine... ten. Any details yet," the doctor asked.

"Not distinct yet," Bron answered.

"Going up to fifteen percent. Same instructions. Eleven... twelve percent... thirteen... fourteen percent... fifteen."

"This is where I'd normally see perfectly well. I can make out the details on the chart now, but it's still not clear."

"Going up to twenty percent. Same instructions. Fifteen... sixteen... seventeen percent... eighteen percent... nineteen... twenty. Can you read anything on the chart?" the doctor asked.

"Wait... Yes! It was fuzzy, but I'm able to focus! I can make out some letters at the top, and the letters get smaller as they go down the chart," Bron said excitedly.

"Good. Hang on a minute, Bron." The doctor flipped off the mic and turned to Angelina. "So far, it looks like he may have lost his sensitivity at the lower levels. He's just now showing the ability to focus in lower light, which is average for human eyes. Maybe a little lower than average." Angelina nodded with a grim look on her face. He flipped the mic back on. "We are going to keep going, Bron, but I'm only going to announce the ten percent increments. Same instructions. All right?"

"Yes, doctor."

"Here we go... thirty percent... forty percent" He watched the levels and counted off the increments, and waited for Bron to call a stop. When they reached eighty, he looked over at Angelina, who asked Bron if he was okay. He confirmed he was, so they continued to one hundred percent.

"Can you read the chart, Bron?"

He went through the characters from top to bottom, even to the smallest text at the very bottom. His acuity was exceptional, but his sensitivity to light had diminished significantly. At one hundred percent of normal luminosity, he was finding the room to be slightly dim. They continued up to daylight levels, and he'd definitely need to wear some form of sun protection, but so did all humans.

As Angelina went to get Bron, the doctor pulled some basic sunglasses from a drawer.

When the door to the booth opened, Bron turned and saw Angelina's smiling face. "You are the most beautiful thing my newly healed eyes could gaze upon. Thank you!" He'd fought his conditioning to say it and was rewarded when she blushed crimson. She managed to resist the urge to kiss him and just pulled him out of the booth.

"Romeo here will need to wear these or similar sun protection when he is outside during the day. His night vision is not as good as ours, but that may change, so I'd like to see you back in another six weeks to run the test again. If your eyes become too sensitive to light in the interim, please contact my office immediately. It was nice to meet you, Bron, Angelina. Good luck!" he said with a grin, handing over the functional but unattractive sunglasses.

The couple left the office blushing.

Angelina took one look at the hideous sunglasses and insisted they go immediately to a shop she knew to pick up some shades with style. When a lucky paparazzo caught them on the sidewalk outside the store, she noticed Bron was sensitive to the camera's flash, so she got him to try on some rather expensive shades that automatically reacted to flashes of light to increase the shading in response. He had no problems when they left, though there were quite a few more gathered to take their pictures.