Off came my boots and the brown herringbone suit; off came the wig of male waves that lay tidier than Billy Tripplehorn's outrageous locks. Quickly I removed the theatrical makeup that darkened my jaw line and gave my slender face a more masculine aura-a look that had allowed me to practice law as Alex Moore for nearly ten years now, in the unsuspecting town of Redemption. When I stood naked at last, I took a long, assessing look in the cheval mirror beside my armoire.
A sigh of utter dejection escaped me. When I thought of Pandora's ample breasts and creamy skin, and that provocative way she had of displaying all her assets, I fell miserably short. The breasts I cupped filled my palms-but my hands were smaller than a man's, after all. Would Billy find me lacking? Less attractive than those three "church ladies" circling him-or less enticing than Lucy Legg?
Best not to ask such questions, I reminded myself. My nipples pebbled beneath my palms as I recalled the sight of those two in the alley, rutting like dogs in heat. God, the nerve of them-the audacity of Lucy, to think she'd entrap Billy Tripplehorn and that he'd let her! But then, stranger things had happened in the heat of passion, and Billy himself admitted to thinking with his dick. Such things went on all the time in that repressive atmosphere of Redemption-which explained the need for the Sisters' orphanage. I was just too sheltered and shy to pursue such illicit passions myself.
Letting my hands flow farther down, I followed the line of my sides-the slightly curved indentation of my waist before my hips flared with the merest hint of femininity. Why hadn't God created me male, to save me years of anguish? Even at thirty-five-especially now, as I watched the three Sisters in action-I was so very aware that I lacked Pandora's lush curves and Perfidia's sleek, sophisticated carriage and Miss Pink's utterly unstudied way of playing the pretty little girl in grownup clothing.
My fingers tangled in the fine down between my thighs, and a trickle ran down my leg. I was still far too excited about bringing Billy off, and could still envision him pumping his cum over the front of the buggy: the repeated streams of shiny jism, shooting from a cock that filled my fist as I pumped it for him. Not to mention the clenching of my cunt muscles, until I climaxed against the seat and nearly gave myself away. He thought Alex Moore was a nancy-boy, and that was fine: he would keep his distance when we were together in public.
But now Andrea-the other half of the Alexandrea I'd been born-had to shine in a way that made Billy Tripplehorn stand up and take notice before her older, more practiced, more…lethal competition beat her to the punch. Our guest had whetted their appetites even before he arrived, for they had their ways of knowing who approached the mansion, just as they knew I intended Billy for myself. All the more reason to rub my little nose in their superior powers and experience, for they could be a cold, calculating trio who thrived on the suffering of others.
But I had to put aside their wiles and dubious intent. I had to concentrate on my own methods of driving Billy to a madness that would make him mine…if only for a night or two. No doubt in my mind he'd sniff out the details that didn't fit reality, in this picture of illicit domestic bliss those three ladies of the evening painted, and that he'd find a way to escape their plans.
At least I hoped he would.
Such thoughts pulsed dangerously through my veins, for I had lived with this set of circumstances all my life-had been spared my mortal, human existence because it served the Sisters' purposes. And just this once, dammit, I would pursue my own purposes! Just this once, the body I watched in the mirror would know the extreme, exquisite exhilaration of being filled to overflowing by a young stud who stirred me in such wondrous ways.
In my mind, it was my backside he was banging against, thrusting that long, thick cock into my hungry cunt as his weight held me naked against the wall. My fingers found the wet crevice between legs that parted of their own accord, and when my foot propped itself on the low stool nearby, I was a study in unrequited lust. Two fingers went up past the knuckles, to wiggle inside my hot, wet passage while my hand prodded my wet puss. With my other hand, I raised the padded mound to better expose my clit-both so I could watch it in the glass, and so it could get its share of attention in this very short time I could allot to my secret pleasure.
A rasp escaped me as the first waves of desire spread like ripples in a pond fed by hot springs. Here I stood, brazen as sin, fondling the pink pearl that peeked between my forked fingers while pumping myself like a woman possessed with my other hand-a hand that glistened with the wetness oozing out of my sex. My hips rocked, and I couldn't take my gaze away from quivering thighs and pearlescent dew trickling over my fingers-like tossing kerosene on a fire, it felt, as the heat inside me threatened to explode. Musk filled my room, along with my little panting noises, until I had to grit my teeth to keep from screaming. In my mind, Billy was ramming himself so deep inside me I left the ground! My muscles clenched around his engorged cock, and with the first spasms of the hot cum he shot inside me, I was- "Jesus-Jesus-Jesus-" I chanted hoarsely, my entire body enveloped by quakes that went on and on. For a few moments I had to stand there, hands still gripping my soft, heated flesh, allowing my legs to recover their strength before I dared step away.
I was a desperate woman, all right. The precious seconds I'd spent releasing my need now had to serve me again-so, on sudden inspiration, I took down my hair and ran my wet fingers through it, combing it into a disheveled disarray that smelled of my sex, hoping Billy's nose would lead him in my direction. Indeed, I dried my hands by wiping them on my neck and arms and any skin I thought he might come in contact with.
Then I grabbed my dressing gown of white cotton-not that I had others to choose from-out of the armoire, and tied it loosely over my nude body. The front gaped open in what I hoped was an enticing softness, inviting eyes to wish for more. I couldn't outdo my competition, so I had to win Billy with simple understatement. A foil to the provocative colors and obvious lust that Perfidia, Pandora, and the coy Miss Pink would ply him with.
Still I lacked allure. A quick flicker of the kohl stick to accentuate my hazel eyes…a smudge of rouge to create cheekbones in a squarish, bland face and to put roses in my narrow lips. The chiming of the grandfather clock downstairs reminded me I had no time to waste: seven stately tolls, and by the time the last one was fading away, I was padding down the back stairway barefoot. I wanted to look into the parlor before my presence was noticed, hoping something I saw would inspire a performance any prostitute could be proud of. I felt like a woman exhibiting her wares, hoping to be the winning bidder at an auction where the strength and beauty and bravado that were Billy Tripplehorn were ultimately at stake.
After all, it was my doing that he was now at risk. My selfish yearnings had brought us to the Devil's doorstep, much like secret lovers of Redemption brought their babies in baskets to the orphanage under cover of the night, without a thought for the ones they sacrificed.
Such serious concerns vanished when I peeked into the parlor, however: Billy sat enthroned in a massive walnut chair with insets of red upholstery, holding court while his new admirers gazed up at him from the floor cushions around his knee. This, of course, afforded him an unimpeded view down each of their gowns while baring the legs they bent to one side, so their ankles crossed near their hips. They had loosened his cream-colored shirt nearly to his navel, and he sat with his knees apart-probably so his prodigious cock had somewhere to go inside his loose brown pants.
Ah yes, that cock! It was prodding the buttons of his fly until I swore I saw it quivering, even from the far side of the room. It was only a matter of moments before one of the demoiselles before him set it free to suck on it. Jeremy and Justin stood discreetly in the background, their eyes alight and their hands down each other's sarongs, whispering as they gazed at the scene unfolding before the fireplace.
Cerise stood only two paces in front of me, unaware of my presence: her body was so taut with the suspense and sexuality of this situation, the toe of her high-heeled shoe tapped out an agitated tattoo on the parquet floor. I suspected her fingers had found her clit, and she was hoping to move in for any leftovers the Sisters might allow her when they'd finished with Billy.
And then there was Billy…oh God, the sheer sensuality of that brazen young man with the bronzed skin and the eyes of obsidian, lounging against the chair's ornately carved back like a prince surveying his harem. He radiated a cocksureness that was an aphrodisiac in itself, a signal to every woman in the room-and to the twin house boys, who lusted after him, as well-that his carnality and physical perfection and appetite for pleasure would take us all far into a night unlike any we'd known before. The Sisters sat with faces upturned like flowers basking in his light, and young Tripplehorn knew he had them in his thrall.
Or at least he believed he did-that was the stickler. When Pandora rose gracefully from the floor, standing directly in front of his spread legs, he had no idea that her seductive ballet could be a dance of death. No, he sat captivated by that most voluptuous of the trio, his eyelids fluttering to half-mast in appreciation of the temptress with the raven hair and ruby lips. She let her scarlet shawl fall down over her shoulders in a delicious ripple of shimmering silk, before slowly drawing it off her body to hold it before him…rather like an erotic toreador teasing a bull to mate with her.
"Ah, my Knight of Swords," she crooned, making the shawl undulate before him like a cape of fire drawn from the crackling logs on the hearth. "When I sensed you were coming here, I could barely contain my excitement! You herald a change in our musty world here-a change that brings new vitality and adventure…not to mention a sword like no other man has ever waved at us! Welcome, Billy Tripplehorn. You're the new lifeblood I've been awaiting for so, so long."
He sat transfixed, gazing into the ever-changing kaleidoscope of reds and oranges and sparkling gold reflected from the fire's light. And as Pandora shrugged slightly to entice him with the bulge of her lush breasts, nearly overflowing the scallop-edged bodice of her black lace gown, Billy's hand reached toward her as though by magic; as though this mystic's potent spell already controlled him.
Pandora's chuckle tickled the edges of the room, her energy reverberating through the floorboards until every one of us felt her power. "I am your Queen of Cups, Billy," she continued, arching forward until her breasts did indeed overflow their lace constraints. "I am the ruler over romance and relationships, you see, and I foretell a time of great imagination…great satisfaction for all who believe in me.
Do you believe, Billy?"
"God yes," he murmured, his chiseled lips remaining parted with the intriguing vision. "Let me touch you. Let me…taste you."
With a graceful flick of her wrists, so agile and quick the human eye couldn't follow it, Pandora sent the shimmering length of red silk behind Billy's neck to draw herself toward him with it. What an incredible sight she made, leaning her knees against the cushion between his legs to offer him her beauty, the bounty of her feminine assets. When his lips found her nipple, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back, sending her hair into a raven cascade between her arched shoulders.
The sigh that escaped Cerise brought me back to my senses. The maid had unbuttoned her short black uniform to release her own cleavage, pretending it was her breast Billy suckled-and making all the sighs and secretive noises to go with her fantasy. And while Pandora's way with men was nothing new to me, for I'd witnessed it many times over my years as the overseer of the Sisters' welfare, I now felt fear rising to override my excitement. Not only was this witchy woman stealing the lover I'd captured for myself, she was turning him into her unwitting victim-and leaving him vulnerable to her two cohorts, as well.
Indeed, as Billy's soft grunts accompanied his tasting of the black-haired beauty with the eyes of fire, Perfidia was now rising to the challenge…playing a part in a drama that spanned the centuries; another movement in this symphony the Sisters had composed when they met long ago.
"Let's get rid of these trousers," she suggested, her angular face glowing like coals of desire as she grasped Billy's waistband.
Tripplehorn's hands tightened instinctively beneath the two breasts he was laving, allowing Pandora to step aside only enough so Perfidia could unfasten him, while he continued to pleasure those soft mounds of flesh. He inhaled deeply-indeed, the entire room seemed to breathe with him, intoxicated by the intense sensuality of the situation. His hips rose as though of their own accord, and again the clothing moved almost faster than thought, until the coarse twill bunched at his ankles and the muscled male legs above them flexed with a tension we all longed to feel with our hands.
His cock sat up like a wand-or like that sword Pandora had teasingly alluded to moments ago. Her talk of the tarot eluded Billy, no doubt, but he needed no spread of her cards to spread those magnificent legs and arch upward with an erection that defied description. Tall and proud it stood, a pillar of masculine strength and a promise of indescribable delight-and Miss Pink shifted forward, her mouth rounded in a perfect O-to capture the magic of that magician's tool.
"Not yet!" Perfidia growled, snapping her fingers as though an errant puppy had strayed from her pallet. "Cerise! Your stockings!"
The maid snapped out of her trance, and, grinning with the delight of a chosen child, trotted toward the foursome. Her breasts bobbed in the opened placket of a uniform short enough to show the tops of her black stockings and a glimpse of the bare skin above them. As she leaned over to unhook the dark garter strap bisecting her thigh, I got a clear shot of her naked behind and that black triangle beneath it-until she realized Billy, as guest of honor, should be afforded that alluring view.
"Oui, Mistress Perfidia," she breathed, sliding her fingers beneath the stocking top before easing it down the length of her shapely leg. "This one's the blindfold, yes? So Master Tripplehorn must guess whose cunt is sucking the cum from him! And the other shall be his gag, so that even his screams of ecstasy will be trapped inside him until he-"
"That's quite enough of your impertinence, young lady!"
Did even the clocks stop ticking? We all held our breath as the porcelain goddess rose to her full height with a haughtiness that ruled the room. Even Billy paused to watch what might happen next, although his hands remained firmly fixed on Pandora's ribcage.
"Give me your shoe, Cerise. And assume the position for the whipping you so richly deserve."
The maid's face fell, yet she knew better than to defy Perfidia's order…and truth be told, she grabbed her ankles with the resignation of one who secretly relished the punishment about to befall her. Both her black stockings had drifted down her legs, and as she presented her bare backside to Perfidia-and, by no mere coincidence, to Billy, as well-Cerise gritted her teeth. Most likely so she wouldn't cry out with her desire for more, faster and harder.
Smack! went the sole of the leather slipper against that pale quivering moon. And then Smack! on the opposite cheek, which produced a matching pink mark that made my backside smart just to look at it.
"Have you learned your lesson, girl, or do I need to continue?"
Cerise was quivering, more from pent-up excitement than shame. She bent down even farther, until her palms pressed the floor-which of course gave Billy a full view of her muff and the opening where she hoped he'd want to stuff himself. "Perhaps another round, Mistress," she whispered, "for I'm so very, very wayward. Where would I be if you didn't constantly put me in my place?"
Smack! went the sole of that slipper again-hard enough that the maid yelped this time. And when the second slap landed so close to her kitty I mewed in vicarious pain, she began babbling her thanks in a voice that bordered on incoherence.
"That will teach you to be so presumptuous, Cerise. Now give me those stockings without any more of your sass, dammit. Go stand with your nose in that corner."
"Oui, madame," the maid murmured, humbled yet flame-faced from the attention she'd received.
No doubt in my mind she'd be sneaking peeks from her corner as the Sisters continued their seduction of Billy Tripplehorn-with her hand up her snatch, most likely. Cerise was a randy little thing known to satisfy herself on bed knobs or broomsticks or whatever presented itself as she cleaned the mansion. It seemed her lot in this life to only watch the seductions in progress, much as I did, rather than participate in them. So, despite her pert, Continental allure, she remained as sexually desperate as I. Needy, all the time.
Needy…indeed my need had filled my mind and body with a wantonness that threatened to give away my presence in the back shadows of the room. Pandora, Perfidia, and Pink knew I was there, of course, and chose to ignore me as part of their strategy with the young stud they now entertained. Billy, however, remained blissfully ignorant of their ploys and my presence-just as well, considering he would never have succumbed to having each of his legs bound to the walnut chair with the maid's silk stockings, had he known what was coming. And had he been in his everyday world.
But here in the mansion, the Sisters of Samaria performed their own acts of kindness and release, mercy or punishment, in their own good time. Here in the mansion, forces operated on a different plane and things happened that were beyond the understanding of most in Redemption. Things just…happened.
Which was how Billy Tripplehorn came to be tied to his chair, his stocky calves bound by black stockings, and then-again, with the whispering speed of a dark angel's wings-Perfidia slipped the ends of the crimson shawl over his shoulders and under his arms, to fasten at the back of the walnut chair.
He was now a helpless knight, but his sword had lost none of its cocky magic. Unless I was mistaken, he seemed to be enjoying this unexpected turn of events. He sat enthralled by three total strangers, women who pulled punches that he as a lover and aggressor had never thought of. A wonderful game, if one ever gets to play it.
But a deadly game it was, and I tightened when Pandora moved to his left and knelt to caress his bared chest, while her cohort Perfidia massaged his neck and shoulders from behind the chair. "You may take your turn now," she instructed Pink.
The youngest of this seductive triangle slithered greedily between Billy's knees, her henna topknot and the loose tendrils around her face quivering with her excitement. As she coyly slipped her pink feathered strap down her bare shoulder, he reached for her-until Pandora clamped his hand against the arm of the chair with a strength that left him dumbfounded. Perfidia held his other arm fast, so now the only unfettered limb on the young stallion's body was that shaft between his twitching legs.
"What a fine name, Tripplehorn," Pink cooed as she freed her pert breasts of their sequined sheath to tease him. "Somewhere in that curly mop I'd find two devilish little horns, if I speared my fingers through your hair. But this third horn is much more to my taste. May I sample it? Please, kind sir?"
No man alive could resist such a plea, for while Pandora was filled with a mystical magic and Perfidia reigned as the queen of discipline and deceit, little Miss Pink personified a sweet, girlish charm that simply made everyone around her say yes.
"Help yourself, sweetheart," Billy breathed.
In another flash that defied explanation, Pink was straddling the object of her affections. With her knees on the chair cushion, thighs flanking his narrow hips, she elevated herself so she could gaze teasingly down into his deep brown eyes, fondling his disheveled hair. Her bodice had fallen to her waist, and she allowed Billy to kiss the skin of her midsection before positioning herself so his face was between her rosy breasts. He seized a nipple between his lips-or perhaps his teeth, given the way Pink let out a yip-and the entire room writhed with them as she undulated against his bound body.
Her glimmering pink gown was hiked up over her thighs, so I caught the alluring sight of her slowly, slowly lowering her slit to the tip of his erection. Lord, how I wished it were me! My insides fluttered wildly with the sight of those strawberry-furred lips swallowing the smooth, purplish cap of that mushroom on the end of his shaft. Inch by inch she eased down onto his cock, until it had to be bumping the bottom of her lungs! She raised and lowered herself with a grace, a control, that left me breathless, all the while breathing with him and riding that slow, erotic arc that was bringing him close to orgasm.
When she suddenly raised up, a wet smacking sound echoed around her and Billy started to protest. But she shushed him with a finger across his lips and a winsome smile.
"I won't leave you hanging, Billy boy," she half-sang as she stepped down between his knees. "I've simply stopped fucking you so I can finish you the way men like it best…and so I can watch the lightning roll in your eyes when you shoot your cum down my throat. Will you do that for me, Mister Triple-Horns? Will you gaze into my eyes while I take you to paradise?"
"I-"
But Billy didn't stand a chance. With the first push of that perfect little O of her mouth, he was a goner-a slave to every flicker and lick and sweet pull of suction Miss Pink inflicted upon him. Meanwhile, Perfidia and Pandora were stroking his bared chest with hypnotic fingers, nuzzling his neck and murmuring about what they each wanted to do to him next. It was every man's fantasy, such attention from three gorgeous women who couldn't seem to get enough of him-or to wait their turns. So of course Billy was an easy mark.
I watched the movement of those painted lips up and down his deep pink shaft…Pink on pink made for quite a sight, and I was ready to explode for wanting him. With an angular blonde on his right and a lusty, busty lady in black on his left, the picture was a study in erotic contrasts, a provocative portrait of a lover caught up in rich carnal pleasure few ever get to experience. His eyes remained fixed on Pink's delicate face- And that's when I saw they were swirling, those eyes, like coffee being swished around the rim of a cup. Or like the surrender of a drowning man about to go down for the third time.
I stepped forward from the shadows, pulling the knot from my sash to let my dressing gown fall away from my body. Cerise shifted in her corner, sensing fresh drama, while Justin and Jeremy scooted back from where they'd been so eagerly peering at the orgy before them. As I'd suspected, Perfidia and Pandora were engaged in a kissing frenzy that escalated with each breath Billy took: like snakes they slithered against him, their hungry sighs overwhelming his whimpers of rising, aching need. He was ready to shoot, staring mindlessly into Pink's azure eyes as his body pumped in the rhythm the three females around him had established. Just another step in their dance of death.
"Excuse me, ladies, but Mr. Moore has informed me I have a guest," I said in a purposeful voice. "My God, Tripplehorn hasn't been here but a few minutes and I'd swear you plan to sink your teeth into him!"
Time stopped, in that inexplicable way things happened when the three Sisters took matters into their own hands. Delivered in the most teasing tone I could muster, my remark would fly right over the average man's head-and in this case, it made Billy Tripplehorn snap to attention. He looked away from the fatal, hypnotic gaze that held his, to blink at the fact that yet another woman stood before him, nearly naked.
He didn't know it, but in that moment I'd saved his life.
The Sisters showed me no gratitude, either-not that I expected it. They raised up, away from their blissfully ignorant victim, to glare at me as they wiped their lips, disguising the shine of white incisors Billy would never see. I would never forgive myself for bringing him here, foolishly thinking my desire for him would protect us both from dark forces far stronger and more insidious than these Sisters of Samaria could control. Or wanted to. But until we could make our escape, his welfare-his very lifeblood-was in my hands.
Rather than chide me for interrupting, and perhaps calling Billy's attention to their insidious secret, Perfidia shot me a cloying smile. "Well-if it isn't our Andrea, come to inform Mr. Tripplehorn his room is ready! I'm sure he's exhausted and famished after his travels. He certainly looks ready for bed!"
The other two chuckled politely, hiding their frustration behind faces so carefully composed that only I could decipher their true message: they weren't finished with Billy, nor would they let me have him tonight without wreaking their revenge. Women with appetites like theirs waxed nasty when their dinner was delayed.
"Come on upstairs, Billy," I coaxed, kneeling to untie the stockings around his legs. "If you're half as naughty-half as randy-as Mr. Moore warned me about, we're going to have a-a much livelier time than these old bats can show you!"
I would pay for that remark, too, but I had to get my nips in where I could: because I'd served as the liaison between these jaded ladies and the town where they never showed themselves, procuring the occasional guest and keeping the orphanage stocked with potential slaves and emergency nourishment, I felt somewhat indispensable. There might come a day, however, when Pandora and Pink-and especially Perfidia-felt a change of personnel was in order.
I didn't think my fall from grace would occur tonight, for they were three sleek pussies tantalized by a new mouse. And as I felt Billy's strong hand wrap around mine-reveled in the way he gazed at me as though he'd never seen me before, nor ever beheld a woman who so riveted the interest of that cock, which still stood swaying as high as his navel-my heart fluttered with hope.
A foolish emotion, hope. But it was all I had-all that had sustained me through my lonely life here at the mansion. Except now I had Billy, and a night that promised some wondrous loving. Hope springs eternal, they say. And as I led Tripplehorn to my room, glancing backward at a cock so tall it grazed his navel as he climbed the stairs, I believed Billy would spring eternal, too.
Melissa MacNeal
Beyond Redemption