House of Feathers Ch. 18: Visitors

"They also have vibrators in them," he smiled.

The girl sucked in her breath at the sight. Mark and Max's eyes went wide.

"Of course, they need a bit of moisture to stay on. We have lube or..." He stepped out of the way.

The couple grinned and went around the table to the girl and began sloppily licking her nipples. She smiled, wriggled in pleasure. My man, after softly caressing each breast, carefully centred a cup on the nipple. The suction immediately held them in place and the young woman bit her lip gently. "Oh!"

He then produced something new to me, a pair of wireless ear buds fitting matching holes in the skeleton helmet.

"Another possibility," he announced to Mark and Max, indicating the earbuds and a blindfold.

"Eventually, sensory deprivation will be a standard option with the chair, but I'm still at the development stage.

"For right now, if we're worried about sound, the earbuds can be set for white noise, or we can just let the surf dominate her hearing, but that would limit our own talking. Alternatively, I've adapted an active noise cancellation programme for them. Next upgrade may put everything into a modified motorcycle helmet, including the original sensor array. With padded straps and the right room temperature, the subject will be in a virtually total sensory bubble and able to feel only those sensations generated by the chair. Future generations might include virtual reality inside the helmet, but that's a ways off."

"That'd be great for solo," I suggested, "but Fleur is so pretty. I kind of want to be able to watch her face."

Max and Mark nodded in agreement.

"So be it," my mad scientist agreed.

He came back around to his seat and rested the iPad where we -- but not Fleur -- could see it. The screen showed her eyeballs and a thermal image of her torso. A number was counting down: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, then suddenly switched to another countdown: 30:00... 29:59... 29:58...

From where we sat, we could see the vibrators under the chair rising, disappearing into the girl's pussy and anus between her outstretched and tethered legs. Fleur's pupils suddenly dilated on the screen. The nipple cups started to twitch and vibrate in earnest. Fleur's hands gripped the armrests. My lover and I glanced at each other for a second -- we knew what was to follow.

"Pass the cheese, please." My man's request broke the fascinated stares of our two guests. Their eyes broke away from the spectacle in front of them. Hurriedly, they helped themselves to cheese and rusks and passed the plates. Their eyes immediately returned to Fleur.

The young woman's head was thrown back, her breasts rising and falling rapidly.

I pointed to something on the screen I had not seen before, a bar graph off to one side. Labelled 1 to 10, the bar was rising, approaching 6.

"New?" I asked.

"Yes. It shows the programme's computation of arousal. One is total relaxation, ten is an orgasm."

He looked at our guests. "Given the time you have selected," he said, carefully avoiding tipping it off to Fleur, "we can enjoy ourselves for a while. I do like a good show."

I grinned inwardly, remembering my first time in the chair, with him eagerly masturbating at the sight of me in my frantic, captive desire.

Fleur's body was growing tense. Thermal readings on her torso were rising. The bar graph was over 8. As we watched, the vibrator's rabbit ears began flickering at her clitoris so fast that we could barely see them. The shaft itself was vibrating like an out-of-balance washing machine and both nipple cups were shaking. The girl began to pant.

The bar topped 9. She moaned, sharp cries ringing from her throat.

The timer clicked down to 27:15 as the bar rose to about 9¾.

Fleur went rigid in anticipation, then sagged as the vibrator suddenly withdrew. We could see the rotating balls inside its shaft slow down and stop. Simultaneously the writhing nipple cups stilled. The bar dropped below 7, then 6. We could see the smaller vibrator behind, still halfway into her rosebud, but silent, still.

"Oh, shit!" the redhead moaned.

I walked around to her, stroked her cheek gently and whispered into her ear, "So now you know why he uses a computer, hon." I stuck my tongue in her ear for a moment, nibbled her earlobe, then resumed my seat.

The timer continued to slowly work its way down. 26:23... 26:22... At the same time, the rabbit began to work its way slowly back up into her wetness. The beads under its head started turning, gently. From where we sat, we could see it vibrating as it slowly, slowly entered the girl's love tunnel. The air hoses leading to the nipple clamps twitched, meaning that the cups were back in action, too. The bar started climbing again.

"It will take a couple of tries to learn her response patterns," my lover remarked. "It won't let her arousal level drop so low next time."

Our guests were seated in the middle of the table, with Max being next to my lover and Mark next to me. Looking down, it was clear that Fleur's torment had affected him; he was hard as a rock. Looking over, I could see my man was no less aroused.

Fair enough. I was pretty turned on by it myself and, judging by her nipples, so was Max.

The bar again almost -- almost - hit 10, but again the diabolical mechanism halted short. Fleur groaned, swore under her breath and tried to rub her thighs together. No luck; the straps held them firmly apart.

The bar dropped again, but to just over 8 this time. Fleur was in for an intense ride...

I looked over to see my lover absorbed in the sight, quietly stoking Max's inner thighs, while she, equally fascinated at the sight, was gently stroking his swollen manhood. I started rubbing one of my nipples with one hand. Unsure of Mark's limits, I limited myself to simply stroking his thigh with my other. I was delighted to have his hand reach out and begin caressing my other boob; I reached down and started rolling his massive balls between my fingers, then switched to gently thumbing under his cockhead.

We sat in stillness for a bit, enjoying the company, the fondling and Fleur's increasingly desperate display.

After a couple of minutes, I kissed Mark, excused myself, got up and cleared away the plates, bringing another bottle of wine with me from the kitchen.

My man poured a glass and took it over to Fleur, who looked like she could use it. The bar reading was over 9. He had to lift her head to help her drink.

"How much longer, please?" she asked.

"Sorry, love, but that would be telling. You're just going to have to tough it out." He kissed her, lengthily - I watched the bar twitch upwards. He put the glass down on the table and, returning to behind her, started to massage her upper back.

"I've found that I tend to get a stiff neck if it goes on too long," I explained to our guests.

"So you've been on it?" Max asked, taking her eyes off Fleur for the first time. She sounded surprised.

"Oh, yes," my lover said. "Many times, not counting it being her office chair. She's my number one test subject."

"He does this to you?" Fleur blurted.

"No," I said, "I do it to myself when he needs to try out something new."

Max's eyes flicked to the squirming young redhead, then back to me. "How long...?"

I smiled. "The programme is designed for up to six hours, but my personal best is 43 minutes."

Her eyes grew wide, but she said nothing and turned her eyes back to Fleur.

The bar jumped higher, then dropped again, beginning to rise again almost instantly. There was to be no rest for her, no chance to recover. Her red hair whipped from side to side in lust and frustration.

"FUCK! Fuckfuckfuck!" the young woman cried, shaking her head back and forth.

Having been in her place, I knew the feeling. I also knew how wonderfully, powerfully amazing it would feel when it ended. In the meantime, it was her in the chair and I was thoroughly enjoying myself watching her torment.

My man was bent over Max's boobs. She gave a low moan and started pumping his shaft, lightly but quickly. I saw Fleur watching them, desperate to participate.

The bar jumped suddenly to over 9 and the redhead squealed in her need. The rabbit was fully buried in her pussy, loudly buzzing and thrusting in and out rapidly. The nipple cups were jerking, one and then the other.

20:18... 20:17... 20:16... The bar was almost at 10, then the sound changed and it slowly dropped to just under 9. Fleur jerked futilely at her bonds.

"Enjoying the floorshow?" I heard my man ask.

Max didn't reply, but from next to me, I heard Mark mutter, "Damn! Where can I get one of those?" Strong fingers flitted across my breast.

"Patents pending and letters of interest received already," was the reply. "It should be on the street in about 18 months. They're talking about trying to hit the Christmas market next year."

The incongruity of that idea had us all in stitches for several minutes. While we were laughing, poor Fleur was repeatedly taken almost to the point of orgasm, then brought back by the remorseless program which could predict to the second when she was about to cum.

13:11... 13:10... 13:09...

As the sun approached the horizon, we lit the torches and their flickering light fluttered across the naked forms underneath. My man had obviously had enough of watching and stood up, pulling Max up into his arms upside down with his face in her pussy. He began munching her while she licked, nibbled and teased below, her cheeks hollow with suction. Max's legs were hanging backwards, her toes wiggling with pleasure. Her hair was swaying freely below her as her head bobbed on his manhood.

I beckoned to Mark, patting the corner of the table closest to Fleur. "Come, sit. I want her to be able to see."

When he had arranged himself, I lubed my cleavage and began a luxurious tittyfuck on his magnificent organ, pressing my boobs together with my hands to increase his sensations. I can generally get a boobgasm from that and today looked like it would work. I could see Fleur's eyes flicking back and forth between the two spectacles unfolding in front of her, then shuddering as the machine did its best to drive her crazy.

I switched from boobs to hands, twisting and rolling his thick shaft, up and down its length. He hissed.

7:45...

Mark suddenly got up and shifted me to stand up against the table, bent over one edge. I felt his hand on one of my cheeks as he guided himself into my wetness. I'm not a special fan of large dongs; they often hurt and too many are owned by men who think that size is all that matters. Mark was pretty special however -- a wonderful, sensitive mix of masculine force and empathetic responsiveness. I gasped as his distended head forced its way into my pussy. I felt incredibly full -- not better than with my own man, but definitely different.

And Mark knew what to do with it.

After a short pause, he grasped my hips and began moving in and out of me. I shifted under him to give Fleur the most open view and began bucking back into him to meet his strokes. As aroused as I was, an orgasm quickly built within me and fired off like a thunder. I shrieked, twisted on his unaccustomed bulk and then came again.

He continued to thrust for another minute and then came himself. Semen oozed out between my lips and ran down my legs. I could feel his heavy hands clutching my hips.

The four of us flopped back in our chairs, watching our young victim still struggling to cum. Her eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets. Not knowing how long her torment would continue had to have been maddening and the sexual spectacle in front of her must have been excruciating.

3:12... 3:11...

I pulled myself together, had a large gulp of wine and hugged Max and Mark's heads towards me.

"She's doing pretty well, don't you think?" I asked softly. Without waiting for a reply, I continued. "Unless you really object, I'm going to claim hostess privilege and release her from denial. It's been one hell of a show and I think she deserves it. The question is who gets to make her cum? Both of us would love to, but she's your sex-toy right now and I'm sure you would want to, too. Or, we could simply let the machine do her; from experience, it's mind-blowing."

Both of them started toying with my boobs while they thought. "How about all of us?" Max asked.

"Deal," said my man, who had come up behind us. "But I think Mark should do the honours."

1:53... The bar seemed pegged at over 9½; poor Fleur was held just a fraction of the smell of a shadow away from the release so long denied her.

The four of us got up and surrounded the girl, still strapped to the chair. By my count, she'd been driven up at least 15 times without orgasm.

My man thumbed the screen and hit the release icon for the straps. He and I each grabbed an arm and Mark seized both legs. We lifted the squirming, frantic woman to a nearby beanbag chair and laid her on it.

Max immediately knelt over her head, presenting her pussy for Fleur's oral attention. My lover and I bent over and, still holding her arms, started licking and nibbling her breasts, rubbing our free hands over her arms, belly and flanks. She tasted of honey, sweat and young heaven.

Mark paused for a few moments, then stepped between her legs and smoothly drove his engorged cock into the girl. She came, instantly. Loudly. Very loudly - had I not known the situation, the screams echoing across the bay would have sounded like the cries of a person being hideously tortured. The orgasm went on and on.

Max herself came, bucking and rearing on the girl's face.

Her man, however, had just had two orgasms and, even for one such as him, an instant third one was not going to happen. He continued to plough the girl, his heavy member sliding in and out between her swollen lips. We did our best to keep up at her boobs.

She came, again. Then again. And still again. The girl was amazingly responsive.

Finally, Mark clutched hard on her ankles, spread them as far apart as they would go and, burying himself balls-deep, came himself. He stood rigid, breathing hard through his nose, then let go of the girl and flopped down on a nearby chair. The other three of us disentangled ourselves and joined him.

Fleur lay still, panting hard, eyes closed. The chrome cuffs and collar gleamed in the flickering torchlight.

It was a while before any of us got up. Max finally shifted, took off her necklace and, using the key, unlocked the now-sleeping girl's bracelets and collar and laid them aside.

Nobody seemed to feel much like talking. Eventually, we showed Mark and Max their bedroom. Mark carried the almost boneless young woman to her own room and, gently laying her on the bed, covering her with a light duvet.

He stroked her hair lovingly and kissed her forehead before leaving the room.

It was late when we woke up. Mark and Max were still asleep, but I heard somebody moving on the veranda. When we went out, a visibly happy Fleur was sitting in the chair, eyes closed, obviously reliving her experience.

Sensing our presence, she smiled broadly and jumped up to embrace us. It was like being greeted by an enthusiastic puppy - everything quivering all at once with delight and friendliness.

"That was totally awesome!" she blurted. "I've never cum so hard or so long! When did you make it? Where can I get one?"

We went inside to make coffee. The questions kept on coming. Eventually, Mark and Max came downstairs, rubbing their eyes. Looking at the now-collarless young redhead, they beamed and held their arms out for a hug. Fleur greeted them with the same enthusiasm as she had us.

Suddenly, she grinned and went outside, where the discarded shiny cuffs and collar were still on the table. "Mark," she said, holding them up, "we now have another thing in common."

He lifted one eyebrow in question.

"Silly - we both totally need to see Max in these."

She grinned and tilted her head to one shoulder. "Who's got the cards?"

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