Tom and Gabby Ch. 06 - Settling In

Each time I try to anchor my finger, it slips bunglingly.

Whenever I'd masturbated previously, I'd preferred to be dry on starting. Wetness always lessened my enjoyment and made the task more difficult and so I'd always try to dry my pussy first, before making it wet again. Creating the optimal conditions isn't a possibility now; Tom nor Linda would allow me to excuse myself.

I angrily ask myself why I have even gotten this wet.

"Take your time Gabrielle," Linda coaches me. I marvel at her arrogance. Having been masturbating for many years prior to her interference, I wonder what right does she have to explain my own body's workings to me? She appears to sense my irritation.

"Go nice and slow. Just enjoy the sensation of rubbing yourself. It's a special treat, so don't take the piss. We expect you stop as soon as you feel any waves of build-up starting," she warns.

I rub myself as well as I can, concentrating on doing it, rather than on everything I can see. It's a pointless exercise anyway; touching myself without an orgasm at the end is far from a special treat. I'm insulted that they'd think it so.

Tom bends Linda further forward, allowing her long, untied hair to tickle my face. It irritates me.

Her foot remains up on the sofa, beside my thigh, and when I look between her legs, I can see the length of Tom's cock disappearing out of view as he fucks her.

Her tits bounce up and down, hard to ignore from my seat. Her nipples could take an eye out with how hard they are.

"Don't stop Tom. Oh god..." she announces, and aided by a few more thrusts, she cums again loudly, allowing me to see her orgasm face again. I seem to be serving as some sort of twisted aphrodisiac for her. Disappointingly, Tom doesn't share this and doesn't appear affected by my presence either way.

I continue to slowly paw between my pussy lips, disinterested. I'm desperately trying to ignore the grotesque sloshing sounds emanating from it.

Tom brings his hands underneath Linda to cup her tits, dotingly.

I can't help but ogle as he does, envious of the way they more than fill his grip, even with how big his hands are.

He thumbs her nipples gently, teasing her back to consciousness.

I keep my eyes on Tom's hands, mesmerised by the dexterity, until I feel Linda watching me.

"Oh don't mind me Gabrielle," she sounds suddenly, and I fleck my eyes away, embarrassedly. "Tom likes looking at them too," she brags, ungraciously. "He especially enjoys sliding his cock between them."

"Do you want to have a feel?" she offers, unexpectedly. "You've obviously got no experience of what proper breasts feel like."

I stammer, wanting desperately to refuse.

I have no interest in her tits or what they might feel like.

I look to Tom to intervene, even if just to scold me for interrupting them, and despairingly see that he has stopped fucking her, and is watching our interaction interestedly.

Together they're making me feel like this is a momentous opportunity.

I immediately feel uncomfortably pressured and stay silent.

"It's okay Gabrielle," Linda assures me, suspiciously gentle in tone. "Reach up and have a feel. I know you want to," she encourages.

I don't move.

"You can keep touching yourself while you do it," she tells me, misunderstanding my hesitation completely. "Keep rubbing with your right hand and bring the left one up," she suggests and when I don't respond this time, she reaches down and physically lifts my hand, bringing it up and placing it awkwardly onto her tit. I keep it rigid and flat, not wanting to engage at all.

This is the first time I've ever touched another woman's breast. I've obviously felt my own breasts before, but they're much smaller than Linda's, and even fail to fill my own hands.

Hers feels malleable beneath her skin; warm, soft and cushion like.

I feel wildly uncomfortable and freeze up, not knowing what to do. My predicament is worsened by my loathing of Linda, and the underlying feeling that this is yet another ploy to have me submit to her.

Tom moves around from behind her, to stand beside us.

"Don't be afraid of it, Gabby," he counsels. "Here, move your hand like this," he says, steering my wrist up, and uses his own hand around mine to cradle Linda's tit.

She can't hide how she relishes being the centre of attention and having Tom mentor me through being violated like this. She is the one being touched, but I'm the victim of assault in the matter.

I disassociate myself from my own limb, and let Tom use it.

He takes my hand on a journey around her chest, tracing around the shape of her breast and tactilely guiding me on how to properly hold it, then coerces me towards her hard, pink nipple.

"Can you see how hard her nipple is Gabby?" he enthuses, deluding himself into thinking I'm gaining anything from this unwanted encounter. "You need to be gentle when you touch them. Linda's nipples get really sensitive when she's turned on. The tiniest little brush of a fingertip can make her shiver. Can't it Lind?" he teases, while making my hand do exactly what he's describing.

Linda shudders.

I furrow my eyebrows, having had enough now. I look at my hand, waiting for Tom to let go of it.

Tom misinterprets. "She's fixated on your nipple Lind," he tells her. "Her eyes haven't moved once since I put her hand on it."

"Maybe she wants to try sucking one?" Linda suggests, jokingly. I sincerely hope she's joking.

I recoil, less than subtly.

Tom still has hold of my hand and prevents me from pulling away.

Linda alerts me that she's serious by scooping up her tit and manipulating the nipple up before holding it ready.

I'm too busy convincing myself that they're not serious, that Tom's unwelcome grip on the back of my neck comes as a complete surprise. He presses me forward firmly, forcing me closer to Linda's erect teat.

"Open your mouth then Gabrielle," she says, sounding kind, though meaning it as a taunt.

I clamp my jaws shut and strain to pull free from Tom's grasp.

"You don't need your hands Gabby. Just open your mouth," he tells me firmly, squeezing tighter.

"Don't worry about anyone finding out Gabrielle," she tries again, insinuating that I'm a willing participant in this and hesitating only because of shame. "Tom and I keep all your fantasies secret. We'll keep this one too."

I open my mouth to furiously protest her implication and she hastily slips her nipple between my lips. I purse them closed. The reaction is autonomous, completely out of my control.

With an excited gasp, Linda sidles her hand round to the back of my head, placing it on top of Tom's and letting him release.

Her heart beats excitedly through her ribcage, almost pounding against my face. She adores having me so vulnerable and indisposed and holds me rigidly against her, refusing to grant me any freedom to pull away.

"You look so fucking sexy," Tom utters.

I sense him moving from beside me, entrusting Linda to keep me pressed to her breast.

I realise that he's returned to fucking her when her body begins to rhythmically jolt back and forth. Her hand on the back of my head means I'm forced to move with them.

Tom fucks more fervently now. He's more vocal too, groaning gruffly, apparently crazed with lust at seeing his devious lover forcing his estranged wife to suckle one of her tits.

Every chance I get, I attempt to free myself from Linda's hold and am completely unsuccessful. She's relentless, loving the feel of her nipple in my mouth and the bizarre effect its having on Tom.

I could swear to feel it hardening more, perhaps stimulated by the power she's exerting over me and my frenzied struggling.

"Well done, Gabrielle," she praises patronisingly. "You're loving that, aren't you?"

My face pressed is held so hard against her, my nose is buried within her breast. I'm forced to breathe raggedly through my mouth and gasp to catch each breath, contemplating whether they'd even notice if I suffocated against her bosom.

I'm hypersalivating and need to keep rolling my tongue around to avoid slobbering all over myself. Unfortunately, every time I move my tongue, or swallow, she perceives it as me enjoying the experience, and sucking harder.

She lets out little moans and I feel sick to be contributing to her pleasure.

The intensity of their fucking increases and I can hear them both panting and moaning.

I will it to be over but know that Tom's climax is the only way to ensure this.

Linda cums again, before Tom can finish. Her fingertips tighten and she tenses above me, squealing out dramatically.

I'm thankful when Tom starts to decrease the speed of his strokes, savouring each one before the last. I know it means he's close. I wait patiently, struggling less, just focussing on breathing and knowing the end is in sight.

Tom sounds an almighty bellow, before pulling his cock out of Linda and spraying his cum over her back. I hear the spatters landings and feel a few stray droplets of it splashing to reach my face. I feel utterly defiled.

Linda releases her hold and straightens, beaming widely. I savour my freedom, and pant for air.

Tom looks at us both, with a twisted smile. I realise quickly that he's not smiling at me, but at Linda, beguiled by her invention of new ways to degrade me. I'd always believed that Tom and I had been written in the stars, but the more I see him with Linda, the more I wonder if I was merely a pawn, used by the universe to get them together.

"Every time I looked up, she was just there, on your nipple. What did it feel like?" Tom asks.

Linda grins. "She was really going for it baby. Her tongue didn't stop moving. And she was sucking. Furiously. I don't think she meant to do it; but once she'd started, she couldn't stop," she embellishes.

"Have you got a taste for sucking on Linda's tits now Gabby?" Tom asks, smirking.

I glare at him, feeling robbed of all my dignity.

"She's got some of my cum on her forehead Lind," he comments.

Linda looks across at me and narrows her eyes.

She briefly leaves the room.

"Keep rubbing at yourself then," Tom says, noticing that my fingers are still poised in my slit. "We didn't tell you to stop."

I slowly begin gyrating my finger up and down. I do it only to indulge his despotism, not for myself, and he watches, nodding his head slowly.

"We're going to put you on the dining table in a minute," he muses. "Leaving you frustrated, gnawing for an orgasm is fine through the day, it amuses us. But at night? When you're all alone in your camp bed?" he tuts and shakes his head. "You'd be slipping your hands under the covers as soon as you could. Biting down on your pillow to keep quiet. Pawing at yourself frantically, until you couldn't take it anymore, then going rigid, pulling those demented faces and dribbling cum all over the sheets."

"I hate you," I spit viciously, only half believing myself.

"No you don't," Tom smirks, appearing to still know me. "You wish you did. But you don't."

Linda returns and studies us. "What's going on?" she asks, almost sounding suspicious.

"Absolutely nothing Lind. Gabby just told me she hates me," Tom divulges.

Linda laughs. "Good," she comments. "And that's probably a fraction of what she feels about me."

I marvel at her flippancy.

She approaches me, brandishing a tea towel, which she uses to wipe the stray droplets of Tom's cum from my forehead. I turn my head away from her and she moves back to check she's cleared it all.

"Hating us doesn't make a difference to anything Gabrielle," she enlightens me. "You'll still hate us tomorrow, next week, next year even. Yet you'll still be here with us, doing exactly what we tell you to do. So feel free to hate us; put all your energy into it, make a hobby of it. It won't make things any better for you."

Her words enrage me. I pull my fingers from my pussy and cross my arms defensively, looking away from them both.

"Are you going to throw a tantrum now?" she berates. "Oh no Tom. Whatever will we do?"

Tom chuckles. "You can throw a strop later Gabby. It's time to get you on the dining table."

I sit firm, not moving, determined not to cooperate.

"Oi," Tom snaps, discourteously. "Get your arse up and go into the dining room. Now."

I don't even look to acknowledge him.

He exchanges glances with Linda, who shakes her head.

"She's just being petulant," she remarks.

"I'm going to tell you one more time Gabrielle," Tom warns, trying to keep from losing his temper. "Get up. Now. And get into the dining room."

I'm on dangerous ice now, I can feel it. They're not going to keep asking for much longer. I move myself to get cement my position and continue to ignore the request.

"Right," Tom exhales and steps towards me. He grapples for my wrist and heaves me to standing. Linda moves to assist him, snatching for my other wrist.

They drag me out of the living room, along the hall and into the dining room, where Tom lifts me and drops me onto the table. I'm swearing and struggling the whole way.

He pins my arms up above my head, while Linda bustles around me, fastening each of my limbs into their dedicated restraint. My ability to move decreases with each strap.

Tom designed the restraints I'm now bound in to allow me as little movement as possible. So far, no amount of flailing has been able to compromise them.

She finishes by dragging the thick body strap over my stomach and buckling it closed.

"Can you bring the wand Lind?" he asks her, and she dutifully drags the microphone stand over from the corner of the room and positions it at the foot of the table, ready to be used.

"Maybe being so close to us was too much for her?" Linda offers, trying to explain my flustered unwillingness.

"Something's clearly triggered her," Tom agrees. "It's fine. Nothing that a big, violent orgasm won't sort out."

"Fuck off," I shout at them both.

"Did you hear something Lind?" Tom asks, pretending to have not heard me.

"No baby," she answers, playing along.

"Let's get the wand on her and get her settled down," Tom suggests. "Are you alright managing the business end?" he asks. Linda nods and proceeds to the wand, bending the arm of the microphone stand down and pressing it against me. I strain to move but can't in any meaningful way.

She turns the wand on and Tom moves round to my head and leans down, so his face is beside my ear.

I try to headbutt him, but he dodges. "That's quite enough of that," he tells me calmly.

"Here's what's going to happen Gabby. I'm going to tell you so that you know. Linda is going to hold that wand against your cunt, nice and firm. She's not going to move it, no matter how much you beg and plead and try to struggle. You're strapped down tight, so no matter how much you try to squirm, it's not going to make any difference."

"No," I bellow, arguing back.

Linda moves the head of the wand slightly, jarring me into a short-breathed silence. Tom nods down to her.

"All that work you were doing on your clit while I was fucking Linda has helped get it nice and sensitive," Tom tells me. "Every single one of those thousands of nerve endings has been excruciatingly teased and is screaming out to be stimulated. Every oscillation of the vibrator is intensified against you. You know what I'm talking about, I can see it in your face," he heckles.

I breathe out slowly.

"Breathing like that might help for a while," he tells me. "But if you're breathing like that already, this is going to be a lot quicker than either me or Linda expected."

I swallow, worryingly realising he's right.

"That's it Gabby. Bite down. Convince yourself you're in control. Nothing I say can undermine that, can it? It's your body, and nothing happens without your consent," he challenges me.

I jerk under the binds.

Tom and Linda look at each other, starting to smile.

"No," I say again to nobody in particular, intending to reinforce my willpower.

"I think she's going to beat us this time Lind," Tom calls across me, disingenuously. "She's totally in control and she isn't going to let herself cum. Ignore all the times she's tried and failed before. This is the one she's going to succeed on. This time she's confident. Come on Gabby. Fight the pleasure."

I shudder involuntarily. Tom knows exactly what he's doing.

"That jolt was just her doubling down, wanting to show us that she isn't going to submit," he observes.

The vibrations continue against my clit, and my legs start to hint at tensing up.

My inhaling becomes deeper, and I mouth words to myself, commanding my body to not surrender.

Tom leans in lower, listening to what I'm saying.

When he works it out, he joins in, whispering the words in synchronicity with me. 'I'm not going to cum. I'm not going to cum. I'm not going to cum.'

"Have you heard her Lind?" he asks, feigning seriousness. "She's not going to cum. I mean, I wholeheartedly believe her. Don't you?"

Linda sniggers, fully understanding his sarcasm. "Oh absolutely," she mocks.

Another wave sweeps over me, pulling me closer to a steep cliff edge of pleasure. I scrunch my eyes shut, blocking out the image of them both watching me.

The urge to simply give up is getting unbearably hard to resist, but I'm determined to fight it to the very end.

My fingers move, with a mind of their own, trying to distract me and keep the pleasure from building anymore.

"Come on Gabby," Tom whispers, softly. "You've got this. Grit your teeth. Talk yourself down. Do whatever you need to do..."

I twist my wrists and grip onto the edges of the tabletop. My hips writhe furiously, demonstrating a flexibility I never knew existed. My legs are painfully taut, and my toes are bent awkwardly back, spread wide.

I'm panting labouredly and my heartbeat booms deafeningly in my ears.

My entire body is signalling its readiness for climax, yet I furiously fight to stop it.

I picture disgusting images in my head, trying to derail the ascent. Balloons squeaking. Spiders running over me. Nothing works.

Linda has the wand just right. She doesn't need to move it at all, and instead of putting any thought into her technique, she's simply watching me, voyeuristically.

I'd suffered three orgasms by her this morning, all of them were powerful of course, however she still lacks Tom's cunning in getting the job done, no matter how much he schools her.

"That's it Gabby," Tom encourages. "Keep fighting. Come on," he almost shouts.

I feel myself slipping as the pleasure keeps building. With every breath I let out strained whimpers until my resolve dies out completely, overcome with vibrations.

The climax assaults my senses seismically, surging through me like an electrical current, contorting everything it meets along the way. I wail loudly, so overcome with conflicting emotions that I could physically burst into tears.

The orgasm lasts for at least twenty seconds and I'm trembling for the entirety of it, not stopping even when the pleasure does.

I lie twitching on the table when it's over, exhausted by all my efforts to stop it. Exhausted too by having failed. Again.

"I really thought you were going to stop it that time, Gabby," Tom taunts me softly, sounding almost genuine. His breath is cold against my neck. I can't muster the energy to answer him back.

He straightens with a sigh and moves away, walking over to Linda to share celebration of their victory.

I hear them walk out of the room together, talking quietly, leaving me to recover. I'm deflated, defeated and determined to get away.

To be continued...