Beetlesmith's Ch. 14

Now, fully exposed in the middle of the yard, for every noise, laugh, or even murmur from an adjoining yard, they would whirl about as if in a dance, grab each other by the ass, play teasingly with the stop of the other's plug, and kiss deeply.

Their newfound, playful exuberance was met by me with a loud warning, "I'll be very displeased if either of you come." At which point they would brightly laugh, stuck their tongues out at me, and continued on their walk.

I began to notice both were having problems with the plugs, which were starting to work their way back out their openings given the women's continual exuberant walking, dancing and fondling. To remedy this, they took to walking on their tiptoes, which invariably tightened the muscles in and around their buttocks, thus keeping the anal plug snuggly secured inside. The tightening of their muscles also increased the feeling of pleasure as the plug still shifted within them as they walk. Now, each of their footfalls was met with a soft moan of delight.

Their heightened sense of eroticism aside, I could tell they were now fully enthralled by their own, audacious behavior, and I sensed neither felt the slightest tinge of modesty or embarrassment.

It must be exciting for them to be a plaything—to be the object of relentless attention and desire—and that excitement was all born out of my discipline. Although the exacting discipline I was imparting would leave them, at times, crying and breathless, I always followed that torment with exquisite sexual release. As such, it all became a positive feedback: discipline into tears, tears into release, and release into desire. All shifting back again until, in the end, they yearned for the discipline above all else.

There was laughter again from one of the other yards. My two nymphs laughed loudly in response as they whirled about and grabbed each other hard, kissing passionately with no care they would be seen. In fact, now they wanted the world to see them. They wanted the world to know who and what they were: slaves to my sexual desires.

I was entranced by their spectacle, as well. Walking gingerly as they did, on tiptoes with chests and rumps thrust outward in a haughty display of raw sexuality. It was as if they occupied some fairy tale world, where it was fitting and natural for beautiful women to display themselves as such. The chains they wore, the symbol for our bonding together, accentuated my vision; glinting sharply as they did in the pale moonlight, it added an almost mystic quality to their pagan, midnight walk.

I thought it time to go inside, but as I got up from the chair, I noticed a head peering over the fence. I knew right away that it was Bob Grant, Barbara's father—I guess he was home early from that second job. I don't know how long he had been watching. I'm not even sure he knew I was present, for his eyes never left Karen and Denise even after I called out to them to come back inside.

I thought that he should attend to his wife, and give Lisa the fucking she most needed and deserved. Seconds later, he turned away from the moon-lite spectacle, and quickly walked back to his house.

Karen and Denise wrapped themselves in their arms one last time before sprinting up to the house, still on tiptoes.

******************

Breathless, the girls found me sitting in the chair of Karen's vanity. They stood in front of me with heads bowed once again. This time, they held hands tightly as they waited for me to speak.

I widened my knees well apart, telling each to sit on a thigh, facing me while straddling a leg. I blindfolded them both with two colorful silk scarves that Karen seldom wore. Playing with them a moment, I ran a wet finger around their breasts, causing their areolas to dimple and harden into ruby-colored disks. Their breath came sharply through clenched teeth when I pinched their hardened nipples, and they involuntarily puffed out their chests each time a raked my fingers across their breasts and down to their abdomen.

"You two have shown remarkable control so far, especially during your little pagan walk."

They both sighed heavily in answer, and puffed their chests out further, trying to push my fingers harder into their breasts.

"But which of you truly has the greater control, I wonder? Take a hold of my knee and lean back. Now wiggle your bottoms against me."

I felt them grip my knees tightly as they set about shifting their bottoms back and forth against my thighs. The stops of their anal plugs dug firmly into my legs as they pressed themselves down. The sensual feelings they were garnering must have been exquisite as the bulbous, phallic device shifted about inside of them, all told to me by the look of ecstasy that bloomed across their faces. And although the hard rubber against my legs was uncomfortable at first, I forgot all about my own discomfort when I saw their reactions to the feelings they were harvesting.

They had to maintain such a delicate balance. Seated, as they were, precariously on my legs, they needed to exert a large amount of strength throughout their bodies to keep from slipping off to the side or falling backward. Along with the physical exertion, there was the sexual, as they strained to maintain a continual level of arousal without pushing themselves too far over the edge. It wasn't long before a fine sweat broke out across their faces and chest, and their thighs and abdominal muscles trembled incessantly from increasing sexual excitement.

I brought out my final gifts for the evening. Inserting the egg vibrator into each pussy, I turned the device on low to start.

That delicate balance they worked so hard to maintain was quickly pushed out of kilter.

It was a deliciously slow torment. The egg vibrators hummed a soft, seductive tune as they slowly ramped up their level of excitement. Their musky arousal seeped out of them unabated, staining my pants where they sat, wiggling against me.

I softly, yet sternly, reminded them about control, while at the same time commanding them to wiggle their bottoms all the more. It didn't help their control that I played with their breasts, raking my fingers across them, or pinching their hardened nipples. When I massaged their montes, or touched the outer labia near their clits, it was all they could do to keep from coming.

"Control," I whispered again as a reminder.

They gave me a nervous, frustrated laugh in answer. They were both on the precipice of climax, but I wouldn't allow their release, which tormented them delightfully. Soon, their hard raspy breathing gave way to soft, closed-mouth moans. They bit down hard on their lower lip while squeezing their eyes tight until small tears were forced outward—all done as a mental bulwark against the rising tide of climax.

I commanded them to kiss each other; and although it took their mind briefly off the torment, the added physical exertion to keep from slipping off my leg as they leaned sideways into each other, was almost too much for them to handle. Their thighs and stomach muscles shook with increasing fatigue

Then, the most amazing thing happened. When I touched them again around their bare montes, I sensed something I had never felt before. It was a subtle vibration, or more accurately, a soft bubbling, as if my hand were resting on the outside of a teakettle as water simmered gently inside.

At first, I thought I was feeling the egg vibrators working their magic; however, the feeling of soft bubbling had a more biological flavor rather than mechanical. Moreover, as time passed, I felt the bubbling inside of them intensify, and this increased intensity correlated with Karen and Denise's increased moaning and ass wiggling.

I quickly took my hands away in shock when I realized what it was—I was feeling their slow build-up toward climax. It was a good thing I blindfolded them, because my shocked expression would have alarmed them.

Again, I was dumbfounded at my power, and rejected my initial conclusion at first, thinking it totally irrational, but I watched and listened to them intently, none-the-less.

Their breathing and body language all suggested that they were very close to orgasm. So close, they probably could not control their release for very much longer. When I put my hands over their montes again, I felt a ragging torrent of bubbling deep inside of them as if their 'tea kettle' was at the point of a rolling boil.

Then the thought struck me that I wanted them to take a little longer and extend the pleasure. It was then that I felt the boiling slacken inside of them. I heard their breathing return closer to normal.

It was as if I turned the flame down low under their metaphorical teakettles, and the water contained therein immediately dropped back into a low simmer.

Again, I placed my hand upon their montes and pushed them up to near climax, and again I felt the rapid boiling of their approaching climax. This time, and with just a thought, I broadened the feeling of arousal to where it encapsulated their whole groin—their screams of ecstasy nearly shattered the windows.

I concentrated exclusively on Denise. I pushed her rapidly up to climax, and just when I felt she would break, I slowly brought her back down to a low simmer. To mask my efforts, I teased at her inner labia, making it appear to her that her rapid climbs were due to more attention to her clit, but in reality I was doing all of this with my mind alone.

I pushed her all the way up this time and held her sustained just at the edge of climax. As I continued to hold her at that point, I noticed beads of sweat running down her chest and across her hardened nipples. Even the small sensation of her own sweat tickling her sensitive skin made her gasp, her body wrenched with pleasure. She tried to push herself over the orgasmic edge by fiercely wiggling her ass against my thigh, hoping beyond hope that the movement of the anal plug within her would somehow push her into release—but I didn't allow it.

I did this to her, repeatedly. I tamped her arousal down to a slow simmer before pushing her to near climax, and then holding her in that heightened state. It was maddening for her. Almost too maddening, however, as I sensed Denise was close to passing out.

It was during one of those times where I kept her boiling on the edge of climax that Denise broke with protocol, asking in a halting, rasped whisper, "Please...No more..."

"No more what, sweetheart?"

"Please...Make...Make me come. I ...I can't take it anymore...Please!" Vainly she tried to swallow and talk at the same time, falling into a coughing fit at each syllable.

I removed my hand from her vulva and took my thoughts away from her boiling arousal. That seemed to calm her.

Stroking her thigh soothingly, I said, "If you come, you lose the contest and Karen wins..."

"I don't care," she answered, breathlessly.

"...And numerous punishments await you for disappointing me...."

"I don't care...Please!" Her last 'please' came forced and loud.

"Very well, wiggle your ass against me."

Frustrated, she whined, "I...I am wiggling...Can't you see...Please!"

"No my dear, I want you to rub against me slowly, as if my leg were a giant cock you need to pleasure."

She exaggerated her motion, rubbing herself slowly up and down my thigh. On one of her close, forward slides to my torso, I mentally started her slow climb toward climax while briefly touching near her inner labia. I did this each time she slid forward, mentally prodding her arousal a little bit higher each time while masking the effects by touching her.

When I had her about halfway to orgasm, and on her next slide forward, I intensified the euphoria across her whole groin.

"Oh my god," she loudly belted out, "Oh my fucking god!"

Karen cried with concern, "Denise!"

Karen reached a groping hand toward Denise, done, I suppose, to provide some womanly comfort or support.

I barked at her, "Don't touch her, she's mine!"

I was taken aback by my sudden flash of anger. The sound of my voice came out deep and full of malice. Where did that hate come from? I saw Karen snap her arm back to her side, as far away from Denise as she could. Seeing the fear stamped on Karen's face, I quickly regained my composure, and said in a more benevolent tone, "Don't touch her, my love, not without my permission. I know I've been neglecting you, but it won't be for much longer."

"I'm sorry," Karen squeaked, as she continued to wiggle her ass.

Denise was in such a sexual fog I don't think she was listening to Karen or me. Instead, she began to rub her bottom faster against me, as if that would accelerate her climb. I said, laughingly, "That won't help. Slow yourself or I'll stop touching you."

I took my finger away from her labia and mentally tamped down her arousal again as punishment. Immediately, she began to beg, "No...Please don't stop...Please."

"What will you do for me if I let you come?"

"Anything," Denise grunted, her voice steeped in aroused torment.

The deep malice was back in my voice again, as I played with her as a mouse, "You are never to fuck or suck anyone without my permission. Understand?"

"Yes."

"You can't even fuck Jack without my say so. If your husband wants to fuck you, you must call me first. Understand?"

"Yes."

"You're not even to fuck that boy toy you've been seeing."

She tried to project ignorance, but I cut her off, "Don't lie to me. I smelled him on you when you entered my house. I can smell him on you even now..."

...And I could. Well, not smell, exactly. I could sense she had been with someone this past week, and it wasn't Jack. I saw a small part of her past life in my mind, just as I had Barbara's mother when Lisa held me on the front porch.

I continued to berate her, "...Even after I told you I wasn't going to share you with anyone else, you fucked that child anyway."

"I'm sorry," she gasped repeatedly, "I broke it off with him, and I meant it to be a clean break...But...But..."

"But he wanted to fuck you one last time, or else he'd cause you problems," I said, finishing her thought.

"I'm sorry," she gasped again. The tone of insurmountable shame was unmistakable in her voice, even as her lungs wrenched in agony.

When she finally got control of herself, I put the full force of my newfound powers behind my final ultimatum, "You're not to even think about fucking another without my permission. Do you understand?"

"Yes!"

You're mine...Totally and completely...Forever."

"Yes...Yes...Yes!" she yelled after each condition.

Her loud 'Yeses' quickly became unintelligible screams as I pushed her rapidly into orgasm.

I think I pushed her too quickly, however, because her screams sounded more like shrieks of pain and terror, rather than pleasure—oh well, live and learn. I'll do it more subtly with Karen.

I found it impossible to distinguish between the two—pleasure or pain, or pleasures of pain—as Denise continued to scream with blood-curdling strength. It was only her occasional, wide, opened-mouth grin that indicated these were screams of absolute, unbridled ecstasy. Moreover, for each blood-curdling shriek, a near fire-hose of gushing ejaculate flowed out of her, drenching my pant leg and my shirt, from belt to chest. The most amazing thing, however, was actually feeling her release. I've never felt anything like it before. It was as if her whole being, or the strength that encompassed her being, issued out of her through her pussy along with her ejaculate. As her strength emptied, conversely, little by little her pleasure continued to rise, until all that remained, all that she emitted to me, was the absolute ecstasy of contentment and bliss.

Karen, who was still blindfolded and had no such ability to see Denise's ejaculation and expressions of pleasure, assumed the worst, thinking Denise was in extreme pain. She screamed Denise's name with utter panic in her voice and started to remove her blindfold. I calmed her down with a finger to her mons and vulva, and pushing her arousal up a bit, and said in hushed tones barely audible above Denise's screams, "She's fine, my love. She's just having that orgasm she was begging from me...And you're next."

Toward the end of Denise's orgasmic splendor, all she could do was sit rigidly on my leg, hands still clutching my knee forcefully, her jaws moving silently up and down as if she were mouthing a silent prayer of thanks. Although her ejaculate continued, it had neither the force nor volume as before, becoming nothing more than a slow trickle of fluid onto my pants. Her tight grip began to slacken. Finally, she fell over onto the floor, quivering.

I pulled Karen close to me, kissing her deeply. She felt weak against my arms; weak from the physical exertion she exuded to keep herself balanced on my leg, as well as from anticipation of what was to come. When I removed her blindfold, she looked down at Denise's quivering form still rolled up in the fetal position, and gasped.

I said softly, but loud enough for both to hear, "That's what happens to slutty cunts that disobey me." Then talking directly to Denise, I reiterated, "Next time, I won't give you release. I'll let you stew in sexual agony. You're never to fuck or suck anyone else, unless I say so!"

Compliant to my demands, Denise had slid her blindfold up on her forehead and nodded her head, weakly. There was something in her eyes, however. A look I was pained me to see—it was fear.

I said jokingly, trying to lighten the atmosphere, "And to think, you used to be such a quiet fuck."

My humor was lost on her, because the fear in her eyes intensified as she backed away from me like a tormented animal.

I could tell by her look, she knew in her heart that what occurred between us wasn't normal. It was too far out of the realm of possibility. Yet, her mind was murmuring the opposite, 'Impossible, how could he have such power?'

I knew that look. She, too, was caught between heaven and hell. Just like me. Our hearts and heads were at polar opposites—we were both children grasping at straws in a whirlwind of changing reality.

I went a bit too far with the discipline, certainly with my method of punishment. I was far too bold, revealing too much of my acquired powers.

"Put your blindfold back on and come here," I said to her gently, with a smile.

She slid the blindfold back over her eyes and gave a soft whimper as she crawled toward me, groping with an outstretched hand. When she touched my knee, she clamped her arms and body tight against me as a person might grip a railing on a steeply descending set of stairs. She continued to pull herself along my leg until her face brushed against my chest.

Gently clasping her cheeks between my two hands, I pulled her up to kiss her, saying, "Don't be scared. Didn't I make you come in the way you've always fantasized? In the way you've always dreamt?"

I felt her body relax into mine when she heard the reassuring tone in my voice. She nodded her head in answer. An impish smile escaped from her parted lips just before she returned my kiss. She was about to wrap her arms around me and deepen our embrace, when I stopped her, "No sweetheart, you must be punished for disobeying me with your boy toy. Now, you must always keep your hands behind your back until I say otherwise," then to Karen, I commanded, "Pull my cock out so she can suck."

It took some doing, but Karen eventually fished my cock out of my pants. She gasped when she saw my size. I had noticeably grown since the last time we had sex, standing out well past nine inches in length and almost as big around as her wrist at the base of my shaft. She was about to say something about it, but I pulled her tight against me and kissed her before commanding, "Pull my balls out too. You know how I like my slutty cunts to tongue my balls before sucking on my stick."