"I have to-to go to the bathroom," Emily whispered.
She lay on the bed, immobile in her bondage, terribly shaken by what had just happened to her. Her pussy still ached, her clit throbbed tumultuously at the memory of the feelings she had experienced while Duke sucked her cunt.
"You have to piss?" he asked. "Go ahead and piss."
"Here? My God!" The very thought horrified her. "In the bed? In front of – in front of you?"
"Piss, Emily," he told her. "Open up and let it flow."
He was puffing up his pants. Buckling the belt, he walked around to the foot of the bed and leaned on the lower brass rail. He touched one of Emily's uplifted feet, stroking her ankle and the silken scarf that tied her into place.
"I wanna see you piss," he said. "It excites me to watch a woman pissing. Go ahead and do it. While I watch."
Emily shook her head, lips set firm and tight. There were some things she would do because she had to, but there were some things she would not, could not, do, and this was one of them.
But the more she thought about it, and the more her mind recoiled at the obscenity of his suggestion, the more aware she became that her bladder was full and aching to be emptied. She struggled weakly in her bindings as if that might loosen the knots of the scarves, the steel of the handcuffs. Opening her eyes, she used them to make one last, silent plea to Duke that he spare her at least this particular shame.
He didn't answer, not with his mouth. He took hold of her toes, stroking them idly. His fingers worked into the spaces between her toes.
Emily moaned. She wiggled her toes, as if she really thought she could pull her foot back, out of his reach.
He moved his fingers onto her bare sole, using them to stroke a feathery light touch up and down. Emily moaned. She felt the moan turn into a high-pitched giggle. He kept on tickling, and she began to shake uncontrollably.
"No, please," she gasped, "don't…"
He knew that he had her. She could see it in his eyes as they filled with a glittery wickedness. He began to tickle both feet at the same time. Emily's legs kicked, but she wasn't going anywhere.
"Damn you!" she gasped, amid almost hysterical laughter. And in the midst of the laughing jag, her crotch suddenly became sopping wet and her ass lay atop the mattress in a puddle of fresh, warm piss.
"Oh. God," she whispered, "I did it! I pissed myself!"
Once it started, the urine came from her in a river. Her belly heaved with each spurt of wet warm piss, and she started to cry and sob even as she laughed. She wanted to die with shame, but God, it felt so good to empty her herself.
Emily Rowan Palmer knew the depths of degradation then, emptying her bladder as she struggled, helpless, in the grip of handcuffs and ankle bindings, while a brutal, sex-deviate kidnapper stood watching, grinning, his ticklish fingers urging her to do it again.
When she was finished she lay is her mess feeling the piss begin to go cold ass clammy against her skin. It had come out of her so hoe and now the wetness on the bed felt almost icy cold. Her face was scarlet, and the flush spread well past her tits and her eyes filled with tears.
"Are you satisfied?" she asked. "Are you fucking satisfied?"
Her language was becoming as crude as his own. Normally she did not speak like that.
"I'm satisfied enough, but it didn't make my cock as hard as I thought it would, so I guess I won't fuck you right now. We'd better get you cleaned up, though. I might want to eat your hot pussy again, and I'd prefer that it didn't taste like fresh pin when I stick my tongue up your hole." He turned from the bed. "Greta!"
Emily heard the bedroom door opening. Straining, she turned toward the sound. A woman stood framed in the doorway.
"You finished with her already, Dukey?" she asked. "You must be losing your touch. It used to take you a couple of hours to get the best out of a woman."
She came into the room.
"Sweet Jesus, smells like a pissoir in here! Somebody have an accident, maybe? I bet it was Emily, mmmm?"
Emily's face went even redder. It shamed her to be brought so low in front of this crude bitch, the kind of woman for whom she had never felt anything but contempt. She was obviously cheap, a dirty blonde in her mid-thirties by all indications, fat and blowsy. She wore a thin T-shirt that clung to her pudgy, oversized tits, a miniskirt that rode high on fleshy thighs, and spike heels that elevated her five-feet-nothing to an almost noticeable height.
Even when she was standing still, her fleshy body seemed to jiggle. Men always seemed to be drawn to women like this one. Greta, the man had called her. Emily filed the name in her memory. It would come in handy when these animals were brought to justice.
"Why don't you take her in the bedroom and clean her up?" Duke said, leaning on the bedpost. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, tossed it to Greta. She caught it, her braless tits bouncing as she moved, and she turned to undo the handcuff that fastened Emily's right wrist.
Emily gasped in sudden relief as the shackle loosened and her hand dropped free. She looked at her wrist, at the cruel white dent left by the handcuff, and she wondered if her captors might remain off guard long enough for her to make a break.
"Don't even think it, sugar tits," Greta said, leaning across Emily to unlock the other handcuff from the bedpost. She left it fastened to Emily's wrist. "I'm short and I'm ten pounds overweight, and I don't play tennis, but I'm athletic enough to kick your sassy ass if you try one fucking trick out of turn, bitch."
Emily believed her. She lay motionless while Greta finished unlocking the handcuffs, untying the ankle bindings.
Greta led Emily out of the room, guiding her by jerks on a handcuff. They went down a narrow hallway, into the bathroom.
"C'mere, bitch," Greta said, tugging on the cuff. She pulled Emily over to the shower and fastened the cuff to the curtain rod. "Don't want you going anywhere."
She snapped the other cuff to the curtain rod as well, then stepped back, studying Emily's aged, exposed body as the tall captive stood bound and helpless.
"Mmm," Greta said, tilting her head to one side, "you really are built like a wet dream. I wish I had your tits. Mine are so big they can't help but sag, no matter how nice I treat them. See?"
And she rolled up her T-shirt, baring her big fleshy tits. Emily recoiled in disgust. Greta's tits were the least interesting topic she could think of at this terrible moment in her life.
"On the other hand," Greta said, cupping her tits and pointing them at a shivering Emily, "a guy could drawn in these jugs, and believe me, baby, a lot of them have tried!"
She pulled her T-shirt down. Emily sighed in relief. But then Greta came toward her captive, her hands coming up, the fingers curling even before they made contact.
"Oh, these are sweet, though," she said, squeezing down on Emily's tits. "Firm, but not hard. Mmm, and warm, and smooth as fucking satin."
"Please, no!"
"Please? Oooh, soooo fucking polite!" Greta smirked. "But what can you do to stop me, bitch? You gonna fight me, maybe? Slap me? Try to jab me with your knee again, and I'll rip these cute little fuckers off, baby."
She sounded dead serious. Emily slumped, her uplifted, restrained arms bearing the weight of her body.
"Relax, baby," Greta purred, her voice soft as honey now. "We're gonna have some fun, you and me. I bet I know some tricks that will curl the hair on your pussy."
She was so short she hardly had to stoop. She just leaned forward slightly and kissed the cherry-red tip of the nearest tit, her lips smacking as they brushed across the terror hardened nipple.
"Aggghhh!" Emily gasped, lifting up, her fists clenched. All the motion did was to bring her tits even more squarely into Greta's face. The blonde looked up her hazel eyes sparkling.
"Offering them to me, are you, baby?" she asked, squeezing the tits again. "Do you want me to suck 'em?"
"No," Emily whispered, "I don't, oh…"
By that time Greta was sucking-greedily, brutally, her lips pulling voraciously at Emily's hard, straining nipple.
"Stop!" Emily gasped, struggling.
Greta switched tits. She bit down into the flesh, her tongue lashing at the nipple. She sucked hard, pulling the nipple stiff, and her lips twisted. Drool flowed from her mouth, the mound of Emily's tit, and she sucked the drool back into her own mouth, only to salivate it forth again as she continued to feed on Emily's tit.
"Sweet, sweet tits," Greta purred, working the end of the tit in and out of her mouth. She squeezed it into a sharp conical point, and she licked it, sucked it, kissed it, fed it to herself, making noises like a pig as she feasted.
Emily squirmed, shivered, whined in protest, but Greta didn't stop for an instant. She sucked, she bit, she chewed, she dug her teeth into the tender nipple points and the heaving mounds of tit tissue while her hands squeezed and molded the delicate curves with a vicious sexual hunger.
Emily struggled, almost ripping the flesh of her wrists in the iron grip of the handcuffs.
"You like it, huh, bitch?" Greta smirked, looking up. Her mouth was dripping wet. She licked the saliva off her lips, her chin. "Maybe you like this, too?"
She reached down for a fistful of Emily's bare pussy.
No one, not even Duke had ever handled Emily's cunt quite so roughly as Greta did now. She clawed at the delicate bun of pussy flesh, her fingers avid and eager. Her eyes glittered with a horrible look of lust as she stared into Emily's convulsing face.
"Your pussy's all wet," she said throatily. "You dig this, don't you, cunt?"
She split the lips as she spoke, and she rammed her finger deep inside Emily's cunt. Her eyes gleamed as she felt the tube opening to make room for her.
Emily went up onto tiptoes as Greta's finger probed deeply.
"Oh, nooooo!" she shrieked, her head shaking frantically.
The finger rotated inside her cunt, showing not the slightest trace of delicacy or gentleness. It reamed her tight hole, and Emily could only sob and whimper and choke out her protests.
"Dripping wet," Greta purred, "but of course it is. You pissed all over yourself, back in the bedroom, didn't you? That was a nasty thing to do. I'll show you just how nasty. Your piss is all over my finger, and what I warn you to do is clean it off. Right now."
She took her finger out of Emily's cunt. Emily gasped in relief, but it was short-lived. Greta stuck her finger up, moved it back and forth in front of Emily's face, showing the woman that the finger was indeed soaking wet.
"C'mon, cunt," Greta said throatily. "Lick me clean."
Emily was terrified of taking the finger inside her mouth, but much more terrified not to. She closed her eyes.
Greta rubbed the finger across Emily's lips. "Open up," she said, and Emily slowly parted her lips. Greta thrust her finger inside, as roughly as she'd stuffed it up Emily's cunt.
The taste wasn't as terrible as Emily had feared. Perhaps because it was her own piss flavor she was tasting, she found the taste almost sweet on her tongue. She hollowed her cheeks, hardly noticing that she was doing it, and she began to suck tentatively at the finger.
"Mmmm," Greta giggled, "you're learning fast, Emily! Keep this up and we may get to be really good friends. We have a lot in common already, bitch, but I'm sure you don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"
She stepped away, and she got a washcloth from the rack, wetting it in warm water. She began to wipe Emily's crotch and thighs, washing away the piss. Her hand worked around onto Emily's ass. Her touch was almost surprisingly delicate.
Emily shifted her weight awkwardly as Greta knelt before her, sliding the cloth up and down the insides of her thighs, back and forth through the gap between her legs. The cloth was slightly scrapy, but not at all unbearable as it rubbed along the tight, tense crease of Emily's cunt. Greta spread the pussy lips and applied the cloth lightly to the pussy interior.
"Oh!" Emily said in surprise as the cloth brushed her clit area.
"Mmm, what a pretty clit!" Greta sighed, putting down the cloth.
She was still using her other hand to hold Emily's cunt open. There was nothing Emily could do to stop her. Greta arched upward, still on her knees. Emily looked down in horror, suddenly aware of what Greta meant to do but hardly believing that it could happen.
Greta's tongue emerged, pink and wet, and it extended like a telescope toward Emily's open cunt.
"Ohhh!" Emily squealed as Greta began to lick up and down the exposed crack of her pussy. "Stop it right now!"
"It tastes good, now that it's all clean and shiny," Greta sighed, spreading the pussy-lips further, shoving her tongue deeper into Emily's cunt.
Emily moaned, gasped, trembled as she felt Greta's limber tongue sliding up her pussy chute. She had never touched another woman sexually, never been touched sexually by another woman. She'd always found the idea sickening.
But she was just a pawn in someone else's game now, and none of the rules that she knew were still operational.
Greta covered the entire gash with her mouth and sucked at it while working her tongue in and out of Emily's pussy. Her lips kept brushing insistently at the tip of Emily's clit, and there was no question the organ was responding, that it was growing, erecting, taking on an excited sensitivity that made the slightest graze of Greta's tongue feel like the scrape of sandpaper across the aroused, erectile tissue.
Greta put one of Emily's legs over her shoulder. She lifted herself upward and now neither of Emily's feet were quite touching the floor.
Greta cupped Emily's asscheeks and she worked them vigorously with her hands as she continued to eat her way into Emily's auburn fuzzed cunt. From time to time she stopped, spitting a hair or two off the tip of her tongue, but she didn't seem to be bothered.
"Maybe I'll shave you while I'm at it," she smirked, looking up into Emily's shocked, flushed face. "I love to eat a bare pussy… the thought of this yummy little cunt shining red and excited and hairless makes my drool like a river."
She worked her wet, slippery tongue back into Emily. She was good. She seemed to have an instinctive feel for each and every erogenous zone inside Emily's cunt.
Emily lifted her other leg and tried to push Greta away with her heel. But her feet weren't working properly. Instead of shoving, her foot was beginning to slide tentatively down Greta's back, like a shy, uncertain hand stroking, exploring, the texture of the other woman's body. Her legs were starting to wrap around Greta's neck and pull the pudgy blonde into a cunt that was undeniably simmering in the grip of heat and arousal.
Greta's tongue thrust deeply, fucking into Emily's cunt. There was no resistance inside. The snug walls of the tube loosened eagerly as Greta licked her way up, and then they closed shut, massaging responsively at the tongue that wiggled through the narrow passageway.
The tongue struck like a snake, probing deep.
"No! No! No!" Emily wailed, moaning and jerking spastically with each plunge. Her legs flexed around Greta's neck. Ripples of delirium pulsated through her pussy, tingled in her thighs, ached in her ass. Greta's hands pawed the firm, athletic curves of Emily's buttocks. Sweat oozed from every pore of her skin. Emily strained, her wrists still chained to the curtain rod, and she pulled herself upward by the strength of the chains, then slumped down again to shove her pussy against Greta's sucking mouth.
Her tits were so aroused that they hurt, the nipples sticking out in long red erections of excitement. She looked down at the straining cherry pinnacles and she licked her lips enviously, wishing that for just one fucking moment she could take those nipples in her fingers and squeeze them. To accentuate the thrills of cuntal delight that were sweeping like ocean tides through the steamy barrio of her pussy.
"I bet Duke didn't let you come, did he, honeypot?" Greta purred, her tongue out of the pussy now, her lips brushing lightly but arousingly all over Emily's quivering mound of cunt. She kissed the slice, the clit, using her fingers to hold the gash open. "Mmmm! Mmmm, honey, it tastes SOOOO good!"
Her tongue slithered up and down her cunt's splayed expanse. It was as if her tongue was a hot wire, sparking each time it flicked against Emily's exposed wet cuntal tissue.
"No!" Emily gasped. "No, he didn't, he kept stopping whenever I began to enjoy it. All he wanted was to get his own rocks off. Oh, God, Greta, what are you people doing to me? Your mouth – my cunt – you're driving me craaaaaaazy!"
"What a pussy," Greta sighed, amid her sea of kisses, her flood of licks. "No wonder your husband is so gone on this sweet juicy cunt, baby, but you don't let him have it very often, do you? You should let the whole world know what you have down here. They'd all love it just as much as I do."
She pressed her lips to the clit, kissing it almost tenderly, then starting to lick rapidly up and down over the pink-nubbed erectile tip. Each lap of her tongue sent spasms through Emily.
"Yes, no, I mean, yes, I mean no, I mean – I don't know what the fuck I mean!"
She moaned again, Greta's fingertip easing into her cunt and plunging hard and deep, but not brutally hard, unbearably deep. Emily's tummy heaved as the finger began an excited in-out plunging attack while the blonde's lips continued to worship at the hitherto secret shrine of Emily's throbbing clit.
"I can feel the honey oozing out of your belly." Greta whispered, as she lapped Emily's clit. "Sliding down your hot tight tube, making my finger all wet and juicy, making it so much easier to fuck my fingers in and out of you. Let me taste your honey cum, Emily, mmmm, yes."
She moved her tongue down to lick the cunt she was already reaming with her finger. The tip of her tongue slid into the opening too, and she gave Emily a double-pronged attack, the finger scratching hot horny itches deep inside Emily's pussy while the tongue created even wilder, hornier itches by its constant rimming and teasing around the mouth of the cunt.
"Duke didn't make you come," Greta slurped, eating her captive's salivating pussy, "but I'm gonna make you come. I wanna make the whole world come!"
"Yes!" Emily moaned, hardly recognizing her own voice as it echoed through the shower stall. "Make me come! Fuck me with your hot sweet tongue, your nasty fingers! Oh, you bitch, do it to me!"
Greta sucked hard at the clit, alternating that with stabs of tongue up Emily's cunt, sloshes of tongue up and down the spread-wide flaps of the pussy french. Emily could feel the wetness oozing from her guts, spilling down her pussy. She could feel, hear, the squishing that Greta finger made as it plugged her cunt again and again.
Emily's cunt felt as big as a peanut against Greta's tongue, and it shivered and strained, responding deliriously to the teasing attack of the blonde woman's skilful mouth. Emily's body was a dozen degrees past fever point. She was burning up with lust, and she felt herself getting hotter and hotter as Greta continued to eat her way up and down the exposed, defenseless gash of her pussy.
"I'm gonna come!" Emily gasped. "I'm gonna come all over your face, you big-titted blonde bitch!"
"You want tits?" Greta teased, puffing up her shirt again as she knelt before Emily. She lifted one tit and brought it to play against the crease of the pussy. She made her nipple kiss Emily's hot hard clit. The contact was unbelievable. Emily moaned and jerked. She felt as if her arms were going to break off, but she didn't care.
Greta pushed the point of her tit into Emily's hole, moaning a little in her own right as she eased her soft dough-like tit into the tight mouth of Emily's cunt.
"Suck my tits with your pussy," she giggled. "So, you are one horny bitch, Emily! This is gonna be more fun than I thought, and a lot easier, too."
What the fuck did she mean by that? Emily wondered, just as she reached the point of no return.
"Oh, Christ?" she moaned, and then it was Greta's mouth all over her pussy again, two or three fingers jammed up Emily's cunt and fucking madly in and out, and Emily's body exploded with the mad, unexplainable lust sensations that were an unquenchable fire inside her.
She scissored her legs around Greta's neck and rocked her cunt into the blonde's horny, hungry face again and again.
"Yes, yes," she chanted as she smeared her dripping pussy all over Greta's face. She didn't need one more lick, one more kiss, one more flutter of that stimulating tongue, but oh fucking God, she wanted them. It was the first orgasm she'd ever had with anyone else, and she knew that it could not, must not, be the last.