Henry's Gift Ch. 03

I almost jumped out of the chair. The open zipper and my manhood unceremoniously hanging out of my pants prevented me from doing just that. I thought of a man in the other room as pathetic. What did that make me?

“Alright,” said Evie, breaking my line of thoughts. The man continued to lick as if not hearing her. “Hey! I said,…..” she said loudly, not quite yelling, the boot that had the honor to be cleaned first, pushing against the man’s chest, making him fall on his arse, “…..enough!” She got out of the chair and started pacing with slow, deliberate steps, circling around the man and the chair like a buzzard. I shivered with the thought of how cold the cement floor must have felt against his bare skin.

“Now,” she said, continuing to circle, stealing a glance in my direction every time she stepped behind the man’s back. By this time, he got up, kneeling as told in the first place. “Let me guess.” She nodded to herself, then looked into the mirror and nodded towards me. My hand intensified the squeeze on my cock. Before today, I could never believe that someone’s glance could be that arousing.

“No, actually,” she seemed to change her mind. “Why don’t you tell me, what a naughty boy you’ve been?” The man was not smiling any longer. His eyes followed her as she was pacing around the chair and as far as they could when she was walking past him, without turning his head.

“Well?” she asked and the man murmured something that I could not understand. “What?” she asked and leaned over his shoulder, her cheek touching his. “I didn’t hear that.”

The man murmured again, Evie patiently listening for an answer. When he finished whatever he was telling her, his head bowed down, however, her torso shot straight up, her head swung back and she barked a hoarse screech.

“Don’t make me laugh!” she said and I noticed that the laugh lasted for only a few moments; there was no smile to accompany the amusement. Her face became a mask of cruelty. She walked over to the chair and sat down just as she had a little while ago; legs spread wide, soles of the boots resting flat on each side of the chair. I wished that instead of the kneeling man, I were able to see what the crotchless pants revealed.

“I’m not a bloody priest!” she exclaimed, “I don’t give two shits about your lying,” her voice softened a little. Silence followed her outburst and Eve’s head cocked to one side as if trying to solve a puzzle by simply concentrating on its complexity. Again, she reminded me of a bird.

“Alright, then,” she said and her eyebrows arched as if she was fed up and had given in to the little game the man tried to play. “What else?” The man’s head shook from side to side in denial.

Evie slumped forward, her torso resting between her legs, her fingers grabbing the man’s face under the chin. “What else?” she asked, giving the impression that whatever he said, she knew what the real answer was, despite his obviously desperate try to hide it.

“What about your sister? You know that’s what I’m interested in more than anything.” she asked, and my stomach turned. “Have you again thought about your little sister?” The man shook his head no and I could swear I saw him steal an anxious glance towards the mirror.

“Sure?” A nod followed her question. “You did not think about your sister?” The man shook his head again. “No?”

She pushed her head so close to his face that her nose was almost touching his. “But you see, I know that is not true. I know you think about her a lot.” This time I definitely saw the man glancing in my direction. “I know you think how it used to be. When she wanked you off and you enjoyed it!” He seemed to have given up on trying to persuade her otherwise, there was no nodding or shaking of the head. The man’s face smoothed over, his ears pushed slightly back like in a cat ready to pounce, and for a moment I thought this was an expression of his anger and that he would punch her in the face. “You think about that, don’t you?” Their faces were perfectly still. Two pair of eyes did not blink. The bodies were like sculptures, if they were to move, it would be to break in half. “You do, I know you do,” she whispered and closed her eyes. The man closed his eyes, too. Her fingers brushed his cheek softly, rubbed the bridge of his nose and caressed his eyes. “And that’s bad!”

“Yes,” a soft whimper escaped the man’s chest. He bowed his head and the face cringed in attempt to cry. A tear actually slid down his face. I was mortified. Did I want to be this intimate with them? With him?

“You think about that when you’re fucking your girlfriend, don’t you?” her voice was still barely audible whisper.

“Yes,” so was his.

“You think about that when you’re alone,” he nodded, “in the shower.” His head kept repeating the motion of admission.

“Ye…ee..es,” now, he was actually crying.

“Ooooh,” she let out a deep breath, sounding like she felt sorry for him. It was as if she felt sorry for what was to come, as the naughtiness of this man needed to be punished and she was to be the executioner of that.

Evie pressed her full lips on his now, sucking on them and slipping her tongue in between. It was a passionate kiss, the kind you give to someone when you want them to know you care. The kind of kisses my teenage years were full of. The kind of a kiss I haven’t felt in a long time, not really. The kind of a kiss I was dying to feel at this very moment. I wished I were there, kneeling in front of Evie, my face in her hands, her tongue brushing my lips, my teeth, my own tongue. I closed my eyes and tried to picture that the squeeze on my cock was by her lips, not my hand. My balls were throbbing, I was very close to cumming and nothing extreme had even happened yet. Evie was like a priestess of passion, pleasuring one man with her mere presence, the other one with her touch. I let go of my cock for a few minutes, forcing it to calm down. I wanted to enjoy this as long as I could. My heart was racing and I could feel the coldness of sweat beads gathering on my forehead. I was lost in the whirl of what I saw as well as what I fantasized of.

I heard the chair scrape on the cement floor and opened my eyes. Evie was now standing, the man looking straight up at her; admiration and weariness were mixed on his face. There seemed to be no trace of fear. She stepped away from him, and with her bum swaying like a branch in the soft breeze, walked towards the closet in the corner of the room, next to the entrance. She opened it and revealed a menagerie of whips, chains, and paddles hanging on one side of the closet like carefully arranged ties. The other side was broken into a number of narrow cubbyholes, each filled with objects. From little that I could see, some of the objects were dildos and butt plugs, accompanied by jars and tubes, no doubt filled with ointment and lubricants. Her body in front of the closet hid a lot of what was inside, but the mere glimpse of the goods made me all hot again. I squeezed my cock tighter, fearing that I would not be able to contain myself for much longer.

She leaned into the closet, unhooking two whips, tucking them under her arm. Her free hand extended into one of the cubbyholes and she rummaged through, pulling out different objects, which were immediately hidden from my eyes by her body. Each time, she would return the object back to its original place, and browse around for another one. Finally, as if satisfied with her search, she turned around, holding something in the shape of the candle flame, a large one, mind you. It took me a second to realize that this was some sort of a butt plug. It must have been made of glass, as the light hitting it pounced off and made a pattern on the wall to Eve’s right side.

Anywhere that flame-looking thing would go, I knew it would hurt, and I cringed. She couldn’t shove it down his throat, surely. So, there was only one other place on a man where it would fit. My eyebrows shot up as I closed my eyes and dramatically shook my head.Crazy people!

She pushed the closet door closed with the heel of her boot and with calculated deliberation walked back to the chair, in front of which, the man was still sitting on the floor.

Here it goes, I braced myself in anticipation.

“We’ll take it easy today,” she declared and the man sighed, in what seemed like relief, which was bizarre. The man acted almost as if this was not his choice, but rather something that he was forced into. Evie’s head turned in my direction and she nodded, making me realize that this was all because of me. Whether it was to her satisfaction or disappointment, I could not tell. “And, since it’s your birthday…” she said and as an afterthought leaned forward, landing a quick kiss on the man’s lips, “Happy Birthday, darling,” she straightened up and added: “I’ll let you choose. Just today, mind you!”

The man’s lips parted as if in attempt to smile that did not reach his eyes.

Evie carefully placed the glass flame standing up on a chair. She pulled the two whips from under her arm where she had been cradling them all this time, taking one in each hand. Her eyebrow shot up as if in a silent question, her lips slightly parted, her tongue licked first the upper, then slid down to a lower lip, dragging across it slowly.

She lifted her arms to the height of her boobs, which I so yearned to see revealed, and hung each of the whips in front of the man’s eyes, making sure that I had a clear view, as well. “Were you this naughty?” she asked, dangling a slightly smaller whip with hair that looked like a long brush, sort of, but longer than what my wife would use when coloring her hair. I froze. Why would I keep thinking of my loved ones in a time when I was supposed to pleasure myself?

“Or,” Evie’s voice jerked me out of my thoughts yet again, “Were you this naughty?” The whip that was being dangled this time, had a short handle, just enough to fit in her hand, however, its numerous tentacles were nearly two feet long. Even from afar, I could see that each of the long leather strips were tied in a small knot its end. Nasty looking beast!

The man didn’t say anything, only stared. I would bet my life that this was just an act for me, for if they were this familiar, this scene had been done before. Probably on numerous occasions. I silently cheered for the whip with long tentacles, and when the man finally sighed and awkwardly nodded his head towards my choice, I smiled.

“Cos you are aware, that if it was my birthday,” said Evie, “I’d do you with both!” This time, it was the man’s turn to smile. Evie smiled back. “Keep it up, and I will do it!” It must have been some sort of a private joke that I did not understand, for they both laughed out loud. As if to prove the point of this being only a joke, she let the unwanted whip drop to the floor, where it lay forgotten for the rest of the session.

With that, Evie walked towards the big brass bed on the other side of the room. “Oh,” she said all of a sudden and turned swiftly on her heels. “Silly me!” she exclaimed and returned to the chair, picking up the glass flame. Amusement lingered on the man’s face, his eyes shining with it, as well. He seemed to enjoy Evie’s little performance as much as I did.

“Come on, then,” she nodded to the man, who stood up and without a strip of cloth to cover his body, which now appeared very masculine and attractive, he followed. As he joined her at the foot of the bed, she simply cocked her head, and with a wave of her hand pointed to the brass frame.

With his back towards me, the man leaned forward, planting his feet firmly on the floor, his hands tightly grabbing the horizontal bar. For a moment I panicked that my view would be blocked. Relief swept over me as I realized that one of the monitors offered a perfect picture of the man’s upper body, arms, hands that gripped the bar and most importantly, his face. I could also see that his cock was still in the state of arousal. Evie leaned over him at his side and only then I noticed the handcuffs that hung off the bar. She slapped them onto each of his wrists, one by one, peeking at his face and smiling mischievously after each little deed had been accomplished.

“And,” she said dramatically, waving the glass flame in front of his face, “special treat for a birthday boy!” She leaned the object against the man’s cheek and rubbed it gently from the edge of his jaw up to his cheekbone and back down again. She changed direction and slipped it across his closed lips, treating the other cheek with the same attentive care. “We’ll let you lubricate it yourself. With your expert tongue.” She smiled wickedly. “No nasty Vaseline today.”

The man did not appear amused any longer, simply indifferent. He listened intently, consenting or at least giving in to everything she thought of. Evie pressed the pointy top of the flame-looking thing against the man’s lips. “Open,” she said softly and the man’s lips parted. She pushed the tip of the object inside his mouth, at the same time, her hand slipping underneath his torso, finding his cock, fingers enveloping it, giving it a gentle squeeze. She massaged his hardness in the rhythm of gently pushing the flame in and out of his mouth. My hand worked in synchronicity with hers.

After a short time she pulled the hand off his cock and placed it under his chin. “Wider,” she commanded and the man opened his mouth wide as if in a dentist’s chair. She pushed half of the flame inside his mouth, slowly spinning it around, as if winding up an old fashioned clock. Then, she pulled it out and held it in front of him. “The better you do, the easier will be,” she said and the man started licking the flame vigorously, just as he had been licking her boots a little while ago. His tongue worked the soft curves of the object, every once in a while slipping back inside the mouth to gather more spit for lubrication.

Finally, Evie seemed satisfied with the result, pulling the flame away from the man’s face, stepping behind him and placing her free hand on his butt. Her expert fingers spread over both of his cheeks, they prying them apart and placing the tip of the flame on his arsehole. “Ready?” she asked and as he started to nod, she pushed in hard, burying half of the flame in one stroke. I was puzzled and fascinated! Could this really be pleasurable?

I dropped my eyes back to the monitor with the view of the man’s face and found that his eyes were shut tight, deep wrinkles around them in a pattern of sunrays. His entire face cringed, lips pulled into what looked like a smile, but it really wasn’t. It was more of an attempt to keep the breath in and not push out a sound of pain, which he so obviously felt.

Evie waited for a few seconds, pulled the flame slightly out, only to push it in deeper, and deeper still, until it was finally all buried, the fatter, lower part just above the circular hold preventing it from slipping back without actually being pulled out. They both stood still for few moments, the man’s body obviously getting used to the smooth intruder.

Finally, he let out a deep sigh, “Okay,” was all he said and now his face unwrinkled, however, the eyes remained shut, if not quite as tight as before.

Evie remained standing next to the man, now gently rubbing the small of his back. I could see that his cock lost none of its hardness following the uncomfortable and obviously somewhat painful invasion.

She pulled her hand off the man, now rewrapping the whip of his choice with it, at the same time grabbing his cock. Her fingers wrapped and squeezed it, remaining still. “Remember,” she whispered warningly in his ear, “not until I tell you.” The man nodded and I wondered what that was all about. The couple in front of me seemed to be quite familiar with each other, all those private little jokes and understandings that I had no knowledge of, or even the capability to understand.

Evie raised her arm and the whip seemed to float in the air for a moment. She brought it down with obvious force, slapping it over his butt cheeks. The swishing of the whip’s tentacles and the meaty slap when it met the man’s skin was greeted by my fingers squeezing my cock so hard, it almost hurt. The poor sod’s entire body wobbled and for a moment I thought he was going to fall on his knees. His face cringed in pain and his lips parted in a silent scream, but apart from a loud exhale, he didn’t make a sound. Her other hand was still squeezing his hard cock and for a moment she paused as if inspecting a few fanned out pink lines that were now forming on his baby white skin. They seemed to change color into the deeper red with every passing second.

I leaned over and reached for the glass that was sweating on one of the monitors in front of me, gulping down half of its golden contents, almost gagging on the sharp sting that constricted my throat, taking my breath away. I was still stroking my cock, with movements that were becoming faster and more intense. I didn’t think I would last through the entire scene and enjoy the ultimate pleasure together with the couple in the other room.

Now, Evie’s hand let go of the man’s cock and returned to the small of the man’s back, as if holding onto it for support. She raised her arm again and brought the whip down on his bare buttocks, the man jerking in pain. This time, without pause, she raised her arm again delivering another blow. She kept whipping him like that, showing no mercy to his obvious increasing distress. The first couple of hits he managed to take silently, his face the only testament of pain. As she continued to shower him with the painful assault, he began to moan, then grunt after each time the tentacles hit their target, he swayed dangerously and finally fell to his knees. His wrists were still constricted to the bed frame; Evie’s hand left the spot on his back just above the arse, now criss-crossed with angry red stripes, some of them actual cuts and gashes, bleeding drops of the juice of life in tiny drips down the back of his thighs.

The man could not contain his silence any longer and a blood-curling wail escaped his lips, extending into one long shriek, intensifying each time the whip met his skin. The whip seemed to be moving higher up on the man’s body now. It relieved his arse and thighs, only to land gashes on his lower back, slowly moving to the middle, slipping all the way up between his shoulder blades. The man was screaming now, his body jerking away from Evie each time she brought the whip down on him, but she didn’t seem to be slowing down at all.

I remembered hearing a man scream like that before. A few years back, when I took my family to Mediterranean, there was an accident on the beach, where a swimmer got run over by a high speed boat, almost severing his leg off. The man was silent while in the water, but once the life guard managed to pull him to the safety of the warm sand and he saw the damage on his leg with the blood spraying out in thin sprays, he completely lost it and I believe I can speak for all present when I say that everybody’s blood seemed to turn to ice at the sound of the man’s distress. I could not push it out of my mind for weeks to come. I would actually jerk out of my sleep almost Eviery night, finding myself sitting up straight with cold sweat covering my body and face, the man’s screams echoing in my head.

The man on the other side of the one-way mirror sounded almost the same. However, his screams seemed to intensify my wish to bring my cock to the verge of hot prickle, and make it spit in the haze of pleasure.

I wanked off madly, my body hot with perspiration, which was also covering the body of the punished man in front of me. I looked into the monitor and noticed that Evie’s face and chest were glistening with sweat beads, as well. Her face, distorted by the hilarious make up was shiny, mascara running down her cheeks as if she was crying black tears, her wig sitting askew on her head. I could see a strand of her curly red hair had escaped and was now freely waving in the rhythm of her motions.