With the captives administering their own torment, Preston turned his attention to his own sore head, as well as Angel's. The shoe Melissa struck them with hadn't done much damage, and the cuts were quickly bandaged. After downing some extra-strength Tylenol, they both headed back to enjoy the show.
Preston watched intently as the two women struggled. The sights and sounds of helplessly bound women never failed to stimulate him-the pitiful whimpers and pleas from gagged lips, the spasm of strained muscles against constricting cords.
The show was good, but not good enough. Sharae and Melissa managed to establish an equilibrium in their mutual torture. They needed incentive to resume their writhing.
Looking about the room, he spotted what he was looking for, tapped Angel on the shoulder, and pointed. He pressed his finger against his lips to signal her to move quietly. Angel nodded, stifling a giggle.
For Sharae, the last few minutes had been a rush of conflicting sensations. She'd never associated pain or confinement with arousal, but there was no denying her current predicament both frightened and excited her. The pressure of the clamps not only gave her nipples a constant, throbbing ache, it also kept her warm and moist elsewhere. The shock of the vibrator switching on and off made her wrench uncontrollably against her restraints. The merciless teasing forced her to focus on the release that was always just beyond reach.
If she were alone, Sharae thought she might actually experiment with the sensations, to see if she could get them to take her over the edge. But she sensed her partner in bondage was not so inclined. After a few minutes, they both found positions where they could sit in reasonable comfort.
But the comfort was short lived. She heard a snicker that sounded like Angel trying stifle a laugh. With her sight gone, Sharae found her other senses heightened just like she'd heard of blind people. She was certain she could hear Preston's breathing. He was trying to control it, but she could hear the arousal in each faint hiss of air. She knew he was getting off on this.
She heard quiet footsteps, followed by the sounds of someone rummaging through items. More soft footsteps. She sensed Angel standing close by and Sharae knew what was happening. They wanted their captives to struggle, and were going to make it happen. She pictured Angel wielding a whip, and braced herself for the expected blow. Instead of the sting of the whip, Sharae found herself squealing at the soft touch of a feather against her bare sole. The effect was the same. She jerked her leg, pulling at the ropes attached to Melissa, who groaned loudly in complaint. Then it was Melissa's turn to be tickled, and Sharae felt the vibrator turn on to tease her again, only to switch off all too quickly.
Angel moved from one captive to the other, touching them lightly with the feather. Now openly laughing at their plight, the slavegirl tested every exposed corner of their helpless bodies. She found sensitive spots under their arms and behind their knees, on their bellies and necks.
Preston smiled in approval. He was so aroused by the girls’ renewed struggling, he'd unzipped his pants and was stroking his erect cock as he watched. Angel looked at him hungrily, but he shook his head.
“Soon, my pet. Keep it up until the tickling itself becomes torture."
Angel frowned but resumed tickling the two torturously bound women. She loved the way Melissa jumped every time she swiped at her with the feather, and the way Sharae moaned when the vibrator hummed to life inside her.
At times, it seemed the captives were begging Angel to stop. At other times it sounded like one was telling the other to be still. Tears streamed down both women's faces. All too soon Angel felt Preston take her wrist.
“That's enough,” he said.
Angel followed Preston as he led her out of the room and up to their bedroom. He lovingly removed her clothing and laid her down on the king sized four-poster waterbed. She smiled and raised her arms above her head, as Preston bound her spread eagle, pulling her body taut. He picked up a roll of duct tape and tore off a piece.
“You know the penalty for dislodging the tape."
“Yes, Master. Full-body mummification.” She shuddered. They had never completed a full-body wrap. The last time they'd tried, Angel had wigged out just before she became dependent on the breather tube for air. Afterward, Preston had come up with the penalty game. He used a single piece of tape to gag her. If she dislodged it, she would have to go through with the mummification. So far, she hadn't dislodged the tape.
“That's my girl.” He leaned down and kissed her ruby lips passionately, then pulled away and pressed the tape over her mouth.
She knew Preston was determined to make her lose the game. He began to shower her body with soft tender kisses from head to toe. Angel moaned as her body came alive. Every part of her tingled deliciously. She closed her eyes and relaxed as he made love to her with his tongue.
She cried out as clamps bit at her right nipple, then her left. He tightened them then jiggled the connecting chain. “C'mon, baby,” he taunted her.
She shook her head as he continued to pleasure her. He licked her breasts around the clamps, then made his way south. Her moans became louder as his tongue dove into her. Her fevered whimpers became gasps of ecstasy. He reached up and jerked on the chain, causing her to shudder uncontrollably.
“Ohhh!” she cried out, as the first of several orgasms rocked her body. She realized she'd removed the tape from her bottom lip when she cried out. Preston was no doubt pleased. He untied her legs then thrust his stiff penis into her slick hole and she gasped again.
“Tell me how much you want this,” he ordered.
Angel knew she'd lost. She'd have to endure the mummification, but she didn't care. She was riding high and nothing mattered to her except her master. “I want you to fuck me, Master. Please, I need you. I love you."
Preston rode her until they both were spent, sweaty and exhausted. He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. She snuggled into him the best she could with her arms still bound. Together, they drifted off to sleep accompanied by the pitiful moans of the tortured women downstairs.