There were sixty-one panels cladding the longest walls and thirty-two on the other two. Kim had counted them all three or four times. There was nothing else to do.
She had been taken back to her cell by Marsha and stripped of the basque, stockings and shoes. Marsha had said nothing, giving her no indication of what was likely to happen next. When she left the door was locked securely. Kim had showered, curled up on the thin mattress, and gone straight to sleep.
She had no idea what time Marsha had arrived next morning with her breakfast, but again the major-domo said nothing, silently laying the tray on the floor and leaving, the door once again locking behind her.
Eating the meal had proved to be the high spot of the morning. Kim had written and rewritten her story over and over again in her head. It would undoubtedly be front page news all over the world. She sat trying to reel off Nina Berry's many credits. It seemed extraordinary that the woman she had seen in so many films, the woman who had kissed and caressed so many men on the big screen, had actually kissed and caressed her so intimately, let alone that she was involved with Jake Ashley.
But after she had mentally drafted the story and memorised every word of it there was simply nothing else to do. She certainly had plenty of time to consider her own feelings. She had never really thought of herself as someone who had any secret sexual fantasies. Sex to her had always been a straightforward business. She liked to think she had chosen her lovers well and had always picked men who were strong and able sexually, and who made sure they did not take their own pleasure first before seeing to hers. She had never entertained the least desire to indulge in games of masters and slaves with any of them, which was why she found it so astonishing that she should respond so unequivocally to such treatment.
She wondered what would have happened if she hadn't picked up one of Jake Ashley's books. Would this well of sexual desire have remained untapped? Or would it have gradually begun to assert itself. She worried that perhaps she was responding to an impulse that the books had created rather than one that had always been buried deep inside her. But she could not believe that what she had experienced last night could be based on such a superficial fancy. The fact that her responses had been so profound was surely an indication that the idea of total submission and the bondage it seemed inevitably to entail, reached deep into her psyche, though why or how it did she hadn't the faintest idea.
Being left alone with nothing to do was part of the conditioning new slaves were exposed to. She knew that from his books. Being naked she was constantly aware of her body. Her labia, her anus, her buttocks and her nipples were all sore and tingled every time she moved, making it impossible to forget the sexual agenda. That was exactly what the slaves in Jake's books had felt.
She had an almost irresistible desire to masturbate. She would have loved to stick three fingers deep into her sex while her other hand frotted at her clit, crudely and energetically. It would only have taken a matter of seconds to make her come. But she resisted the temptation. The trouble was, there was nowhere in the room or in the alcove that formed the shower room, where she could hide from the two mirrors, one opposite the door and one over the washbasin, and she had a feeling they were like eyes that watched her constantly.
They probably were.
In the books the slaves' cells had all been equipped with hidden video cameras, the master being able to observe all his slaves by switching channels on televisions in his study, and his bedroom.
But it wasn't only that. Though she'd not been told she mustn't touch herself, doing so felt like disobedience. She belonged to him now. It was up to him when and if she took her pleasure. She did not want him to see her masturbating.
Where her need to get away and file her story fitted into that scenario she wasn't at all sure. Since she'd arrived in New York her sexual agenda seemed to have taken over everything. Of course her professional mission had changed; a profile of the reclusive writer was one thing - a story involving him with Nina Berry quite another. If she was thinking purely of her professional career she should perhaps have looked for the first opportunity to get out of there. But the thought of running away appalled her. And Audrey had spoken of other prominent people; businessmen and politicians. She should certainly try to stick around for a few more days to find out if that claim was true. At least that gave her the professional excuse she was looking for to justify the fact that she had no intention of leaving - just yet.
Hopefully after a few days, she told herself, she might become inured to the effects of whatever she was reacting to so strongly, and would no longer be in its thrall. She had always thought of herself as a modern, liberated and independent woman, and the thought that she should actually allow herself to become literally enslaved to a man appalled her on an intellectual level. But her body appeared to be unencumbered by such precepts. She had to be careful not to think too much about exactly what had happened last night, for fear of provoking another bout of feelings that created an itch in her sex she would find hard not to scratch.
So instead she counted.
She counted the wooden planes, and the numbers of nails, and the buttons in the mattress. She tried to remember nursery rhymes and the plots of her favourite movies.
Eventually she heard footsteps outside the door. The key ground in the lock.
It was Marsh again, holding another tray of food and the same holdall. 'Eat this, shower and get ready,' she said brusquely, and then stared into Kim's lap. 'And you'll need to shave down there, too. Make sure you're completely smooth.' She placed the tray on the floor, dropped the holdall on the bed, then left, slamming and locking the door again.
Kim hadn't realised how hungry she was. She picked up an apple and munched it eagerly as she emptied the contents of the bag onto the bed. There was a pair of black hold ups with a black lace welt, and a lacy almost transparent body. Naturally the gusset of the body had been removed. The shoes were just as high as she had worn last night, with tapering heels. There was a pair of long black lace gloves and a thick leather belt, attached to each side of which were two short chains, each secured to a metal handcuff. The make-up case was also in the bag.
The food consisted of cold chicken, vegetables and fruit, with a large jug of water and two bread rolls. Kim eagerly consumed it all. She was so ravenous she thought it was probably later than she'd imagined, early evening rather than mid-afternoon.
Beneath the hot cascading shower she felt her excitement bringing to increase. She wasn't thinking about her story now - only what Jake Ashley had in mind for her. All the slaves in his books had one single aim; to spend as much time with the master as they possibly could, no matter what indignities he heaped upon them. Kim realised that was precisely what she felt. But she knew too, that if the way this house was run was a model for the 'chateau' in the books, she, like the fictional slaves, could be sadly disappointed.
She took the razor she'd found on the washbasin and lathered up her mons and labia, carefully shaving the delicate area. The process of doing this aroused her further.
Kim made herself up in the strong colours that had been provided, using more than the usual amount of mascara and eye-liner as well as the darker tone of eye shadow, applied a thick coat of the ruby-red lipstick, then covered that with lip gloss. She wormed into the tight body, which had been woven with lycra to give it a clinging quality, the bodice pressing her breasts back slightly though giving them no support. The black stockings were sheer, with a fully-fashioned heel and a seam. She rolled them up her long legs, strapped on the shoes, the heels increasing her height dramatically, then pulled on the lacy gloves, which reached almost to her armpits. She had noticed the effect the stockings had on her legs, highlighting the creamy flesh above them, and the gloves had the same effect on her arms, the two or three inches of flesh above them appearing as soft as the nap of a peach.
Finally she buckled the belt in place. It was tight and cinched her waist noticeably. The two metal cuffs hung down, one either side, clinking against the chain when she moved.
Inspecting herself in the mirror, she could see the outline of her breasts and her nipples beneath the lace. Though the gusset of the body had been cut away it revealed little of her mons. Only when she opened her legs was it obvious that her sex was exposed.
She sat on the bed and waited.
She did not have long to wait. The door opened and Marsha strode in. As usual, she was wearing leather, this outfit a catsuit that covered her body like a second skin. It was so tight the leather had folded itself into the crease of her sex.
'Up,' she said, pulling Kim to her feet. With what was obviously practised ease she grabbed Kim's wrists one by one and snapped the cuffs around them, making it impossible for her to raise her arms more than a few inches, either upward or outward. She pushed Kim around so she did a pirouette. 'Not bad,' she mused, caressing Kim's buttocks. 'Remember the rules tonight,' she warned. 'Now follow me.'
Out in the narrow corridor Kim saw most of the other cell doors were open. As Marsha led her upstairs she thought she could hear music and the sound of voices - like a distant party.
On the ground floor they walked through an area of the house Kim had not seen before. A wide corridor opened onto a large sitting room. There was a clock on the mantelpiece, and Kim noticed it was ten o'clock. No wonder she'd been so hungry.
There were grand French windows that opened onto the patio and swimming pool she'd seen from the kitchen. The patio had been decorated with huge terracotta pots, replicas of Roman antiquities, which were filled with all manner of exotic flowers that spilled over onto the ground. To one side an extravagant buffet had been laid out, and there were cast-iron chairs and tables adorned with white linen tablecloths and silver candlesticks, the candles flickering gently in the lightest of breezes.
There were about twenty people milling about. Most had finished eating and only a couple still sat, toying with coffee or petit fours. The rest had dispersed around the pool, chatting in groups or sitting on luxurious loungers. The male guests wore black tie, while the women wore the sort of outfits Kim had seen at the Velvet Tongue, though most wore lace, satin and silk, rather than the more outré rubber or leather garments she had seen. The costumes were nevertheless boarding on the obscene, the dresses often revealing more than just glimpses of thigh, buttocks and breasts.
Among the guests were six slaves, four women and the two men. The women were dressed in identical costumes to Kim, apart from the fact that two of the lace bodies and stockings were red, two white, and two black, though the belts to which their hands were chained were all black. Kim recognised Adam and the man she had worked with in the kitchen. They both wore leather harnesses; a series of belts which crossed their chest and followed the line of their pelvis down between their legs, but left their genitals bare. Both had large erections, their cocks strapped into another harness; a narrow strap with two thinner loops around their balls, stretching the skin of the scrotum tightly.
Marsha pushed Kim forward.
One of the women turned to face them. 'This one's new, isn't she?' she said elaborately.
'Yes, Ms Daniels,' Marsha answered. 'She only came in the day before yesterday.'
'My God, I recognise her now. She was in the auction. I wanted the blonde, but I took quite a fancy to this one, too.' The woman was nearer fifty than forty, and was wearing a gaudy black silk dress, the tight bodice pushing her breasts together, the neckline low enough to reveal the upper semicircle of her dark areolae. She raised icy fingers and stroked the back of them against Kim's flushed cheek.
'Well, she's quite something.' A man had crept up behind Kim, and pinched her buttocks hard enough to make her emit a little squeal. 'What's she called?'
'Kim,' Marsha told them.
'Lovely,' the man grunted into Kim's ear.
'Mmm...' the woman concurred.
The man examined her back appreciatively, then walked around to her front. Kim didn't have to be an expert in American politics to recognise him. Senator Tom Beddoes was one of the most influential figures in the Republican party, and was constantly appearing on television to give his views on what the current administration was doing wrong.
'If you'll excuse me.' Marsha moved quietly away.
'Of course honey-pie, you've got other fish to fry,' the Senator said after her, without taking his roaming eyes off the delicious slave standing meekly before him. He was a big man - tall with a large belly. His face was deeply wrinkled with heavy jowls. He eyed her lecherously, concentrating on her breasts.
It was a balmy night, with only the hint of a breeze, and the air was scented by the fragrant flowers.
'She's new, Tom,' the woman said, licking her heavy lips.
'Really?' he said, his eyes still glued to Kim's cleavage. 'That's exactly what I like.' He raised a hand and stroked her shoulder. 'Maybe I'll see you later, Kim,' he added, and to her surprise, walked away. She watched as he approached one of the male slaves, who was standing with a rather gaunt woman wearing a spangle studded evening dress. The Senator wrapped his arm around the slave's shoulders and began talking earnestly to the women.
Kim was already rewriting her story for the umpteenth time. Nina Berry and Senator Tom Beddoes! It just got better and better. She looked around to see if Nina was there, but couldn't see her. And she couldn't see Jake Ashley either, for that matter.
Another woman approached. She had harshly dyed blonde hair, and was wearing a yellow halter-necked backless blouse with a pair of voluminous culottes made from black chiffon. The chiffon was largely transparent and Kim could see her belly and her legs, her pubes covered by a tiny triangle of black satin.
'Got your eye on her, have you Georgy?' she said to the other woman, who was still studying Kim with an avaricious glint in her eye. The blonde cupped Kim's chin in one hand and squeezed, so her glossed lips peeled open into an inviting O. Kim instinctively tried to raise a protective hand, but the chain on the belt thwarted her.
'Not particularly well trained, is she?' the blonde said disapprovingly. 'You've got to learn to take what's given, sweetie.' The possessive hand dropped to Kim's breasts, and manicured fingers deliberately pinched a nipple, making Kim gasp. But this time she made no attempt to defend herself.
'How's Arnold?' the other woman asked.
'Waiting for the big event, as usual,' the blonde said conversationally. 'He always hopes he'll get lucky, but he never has so far... Do you mind if I take her?'
'No, I don't mind,' the other woman replied. 'I think I'm more into men tonight - I get enough pussy at home.' She looked deeply into Kim's eyes, and added, 'But I will enjoy her... soon.'
The blonde gripped Kim's arm and guided her across the patio. As they moved amongst the guests Kim noticed that the woman standing next to the Senator had begun to play with the slave's erection. She appeared to be pointing something out, and the Senator looked down at it critically. The woman then said something to the slave, though Kim could not hear what it was. The slave dropped to his knees as the woman unzipped the Senator's flies and fished around inside. To Kim's utter astonishment she then pulled his flaccid cock out and fed it into the male slave's open mouth. As she did so she kissed the Senator full on the lips, pulling his hand up to her bosom.
But they were not the only guests who had decided to become more intimate. On one of the loungers a man was lying with his trousers around his ankles while a woman in a tight tube dress arranged a female slave on top of him, her legs straddling his body. The woman guided his standing erection into the slave's sex, the crotchless lace body providing easy access.
'Look what I've got for you,' the blonde said, interrupting Kim's spinning thoughts. 'This is my husband, sweetie.'
They had stopped in front of a tall and attractive man with a deeply tanned face and thick black hair. He was standing with a woman in a dark blue satin dress, and one of the female slaves. The slave's lace body and stockings and shoes were white.
'Mmm... very nice,' the man said. 'Is she the last one out?'
'Guess so.'
'Let's see you two together then,' he suggested.
The girl in white immediately turned to Kim, caught hold of her bound hands and pulled her close. She used her tongue to lick Kim's lower lip, then crushed their mouths and their bodies together. She had small breasts but large hard nipples, and Kim could feel them pressing against her own. Up to now she had felt detached and uninvolved in what was going on, too busy mentally writing the new version of her story to include the details of Senator Beddoes' behaviour. But the girl's mouth and eager tongue, and her sinuous body, were changing all that. She felt the familiar signs of arousal emanating from her sex.
'Come on, sweetie,' the blonde admonished Kim huskily. 'You're not supposed to just stand there.'
The truth was that Kim wasn't at all sure what she was supposed to do. She had not expected any of this. She had expected to be taken again to Jake, and perhaps Nina. But she remembered that Marsha had told her she must obey the orders of Jake's guests, so she returned the kiss with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. It was an extraordinary sensation; a few days ago she had never kissed a woman sexually, but now, standing amongst a group of strangers, she was doing it to a girl she didn't even know, wearing a costume that hid so little she might as well have been naked. But if somewhere in her mind a voice was telling her this was all terribly wrong, her body had no such reservations, responding with unequivocal arousal.
'He's here,' the man said.
Everyone on the patio stopped what they were doing and began to applaud. The lovely slave girl let go of Kim's hands and stepped back. Jake Ashley had appeared on the patio. He was wearing a white suit with a white shirt, tie and shoes. He raised his hands to silence the reserved clapping.
'I hope you're all having a wonderful time,' he said grandly.
There was a general hum of confirmation.
'Well, you're all familiar with the next event on the agenda,' he went on. He made a signal and Marsha emerged. She was holding a chain like a dog leash in one hand, attached to a leather collar around the neck of a girl who was naked apart from a skin-tight red leather helmet that had been laced tightly around her head. The girl's long flaming red hair had been pulled through the back of the lacing and flowed down over her shoulders. The helmet had holes for the girl's mouth, nose and eyes, but there were flaps over the latter that had been pulled down to make an effective blindfold. Both her nipples had been pierced and a chain was looped down between the two gold nipple rings. Her breasts were pear-shaped and pendulous and her mons was shaved.
'Some of you already know Nicole.' Jake Ashley was still addressing the gathered throng. 'And as she'll be leaving us next week, it falls to her to decide who will have the honour of performing for you all tonight.'
Kim saw the blonde glance expectantly towards her husband.
'Will those male guests who want to take part step forward, please,' Jake requested. Six men, including the blonde's husband, the Senator, and the man on the lounger, moved forward, making no attempt to cover up there erections, which jutted from their flies. They formed a straight line on the patio.
While this was going on Marsha rounded up the slaves, male and female, and stood them in another line facing the men. Kim noticed that three of the girls had a small blue tattoo on their right buttock, two letters in an elaborate script fitted into the middle of the roundel: JA. They were identical to the one she had seen on Candy's bottom.
'Right, I think we're ready,' Jake announced.
Marsha walked up to the redhead, picked up her leash again, led her to the line of men, then unclipped the leash from the collar.
'Okay Nicole, you may begin,' Jake said.
The girl knew exactly what to do. She took three tentative steps forward, her hands weaving about in front of her. Her left hand came into contact with the first man and she turned to him, blindly touching his face and body. Then she groped her way down to the next. The third man in line was the Senator, and when her hands fell on his jutting phallus she gave a little mew of appreciation, taking it in both hands and squeezing it firmly. None of the men moved or said a word.
'All right, now you must choose, Nicole,' Jake said, when the girl had reached the end of the line. She fumbled her way back along the expectant queue. Kim saw the first man's face fall as she passed him and went on to the second. He too was disappointed as she passed on to the Senator. But this time she stopped.
She tapped him on the shoulder.
'I choose him,' she said clearly, staring blindly at his chest.
'Well thank you, pussy,' he breathed. 'Thank you, thank you, thank you.' The Senator looked very pleased with himself, beads of sweat glistening on his heavy features.
Marsha moved silently forward and led Nicole over to the line of slaves. This time Nicole went down behind the line, groping their thighs and buttocks. Kim was the fourth to receive this treatment, the girl's fingers pinching her bottom and flitting momentarily up between her thighs. At the end of the line she stopped, but did not start to come back again as she had done with the male guests.
'Number four,' the girl decided.
Kim didn't realise this meant her, until she saw the sleazy Senator eyeing her with lascivious interest. 'Good choice, pussy,' he crooned, licking his thick lips. 'Good choice.'
Marsha led Kim around the pool, and the Senator followed. On the far side of the quietly lapping water was another area of patio, upon which was a raised circular dais. At its centre was a thick white mattress. The dais had a retaining wall around its perimeter, and Kim saw there were metal rings set in the brickwork at regular intervals. Alarmingly, too, there was a metal arch that spanned the dais, hanging from the centre of which, right over the middle of the mattress, was a metal hook on a sturdy metal chain. There were also two spotlights on either side of the arch, which were trained down, bathing the dais with bright light.
Marsha indicated that Kim should climb up, and she instantly obeyed, her heart beating so fast she could hear her pulse drumming in her ears. The rest of the guests, with the slaves in tow, began to follow them, fanning out around the dais in order to get a good view. It didn't take a lot of intelligence to work out what was going to happen next. Kim and the Senator were, as the blonde had put it, the main event.
The Senator and a plain woman stepped up onto the dais beside her. For some reason Kim had the feeling she was his wife. The Senator unzipped the woman's dress and pulled it off her shoulders, allowing it to fall away. She was wearing a tight black body in a slinky silk, and tan hold up stockings with a very thin welt, the elasticated rim digging a channel all the way around her thighs. The bodice of the body was lace, and struggled to contain her pulpy breasts.
Just then Marsha, apparently with little effort, lifted a wooden chest up onto the dais. The Senator's wife flipped it open.
'Oh yes, just right,' she enthused. She pulled out four leather cuffs and lengths of hemp rope.
'And you'll need this,' Marsha said, taking a key from a pocket in her catsuit and handing it to the Senator. Quickly he unlocked the handcuffs, then stripped the leather belt away from Kim's waist. Kim rubbed her wrists where the metal had chaffed them, but was not allowed this opportunity for long, for the Senator's wife began buckling the leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles.
'Lie down now, sweet little pussy,' the Senator croaked, his excitement becoming more and more evident. He prodded her until she was standing by the mattress. Meekly she lay down, on her back. The Senator knelt hastily and stretched her left arm out while his wife ran a rope through the metal ring above Kim's head. Then she looped the rope through the D-ring on the leather cuff around Kim's wrist, pulling it taut so her arm was strained up and outward. She knotted the rope back on the ring again. A few minutes later Kim was spread-eagled helplessly across the dais, stretched like piano wire.
Apart from being able to raise her head or buttocks slightly from the mattress, Kim simply couldn't move. She was completely powerless. But her reaction to this bondage was unequivocal. Despite the unattractiveness of the Senator, she felt a pounding excitement as great as anything she had experienced previously. Her labia, exposed by the crotchless lace body, were stretched apart. She could feel her juices running, and was sure they were leaking out over her thighs.
But it was not only the bondage that was so arousing, she realised. It was the fact that everybody could see her tied, open and available. She had no will of her own. She was simply an object, an exhibit in a show - and for some reason she couldn't understand, that excited her as much as everything else.
'Look how wet she is, the little bitch,' the Senator's wife gloated to the audience.
'They're all like that,' Jake said. 'I thought you knew that by now.'
Kim lifted her head to see where he was.
The Senator's wife took a short leather whip from the chest. It had a tapering black lash, knotted at the tip. She trailed the knot down the length of Kim's body from her chin to her mons. When the leather snaked between her legs she gasped, even this faintest of touches enough to make her clitoris sing. She saw the Senator looming over her, hurriedly stripping his clothes off.
'Come on, Vanda, let's see some action,' he panted, as he frantically struggled out of his trousers and pants. Kim saw he had a large strawberry-shaped birthmark on the top of his right thigh. He was already erect. He took it in his fist and began to pump aggressively. His wife took a small pink dildo from the chest. Its shaft was gnarled and distressed, moulded to resemble a real penis. Extending from the flared base was a length of flex that was attached to a small rectangular box. She planted her feet on either side of Kim's head. The captive girl gazed up to her crotch, and felt a pang of desire. The woman's high heels stiffened the muscles of her calves. She opened her legs a little further and stooped to undo the gusset of the body. Kim couldn't tear her eyes from the bejewelled fingers working at the three poppers that held it in place. The delicate material peeled apart to reveal her sex, her puffy labia completely depilated of hair. They were already glistening juicily.
The Senator shuffled behind his wife. Through misty eyes Kim watched him stroke her mons. His middle finger delved down into the slit of her sex, and crooked up to her clitoris. Vanda moaned, her head lolling back onto her husband's chest.
'She's really something,' he grunted, gazing down at their trussed prize.
For a moment a silence hung over the all those gathered there, then Vanda lowered herself, squatting over Kim's face. Slowly she pressed her hairless sex down onto Kim's mouth. The supine girl instinctively extended her tongue, nudging it into the deep groove between the woman's labia, searching for her clit. It was large and swollen. Kim flicked at it with her tongue and felt it flex. Vanda stiffened and moaned.
A weight settled on the mattress by her side, but Vanda's smothering bottom obscured her sight. A hand, presumably the Senator's, began stroking her thigh, moving between the top of the stocking and the bare flesh above it. Vanda settled further and wriggled her hips from side to side, rubbing her labia across Kim's mouth, her juices smearing the helpless girl's face. At the same time she leant forward slightly. Kim couldn't see what she was doing, but felt something cold and smooth slide between her sex lips. It was the tip of the dildo, she was sure of that.
Someone in the audience encouraged Vanda, upon which the little dildo thrust up into Kim's wet vagina until the flared based was pressed tightly against her labia.
But it didn't stay there long. Vanda screwed the dildo around then withdrew it. She directed it down lower to the perfectly circular and puckered hole of Kim's anus. The lubrication it had gathered from her vagina made it slick, and as Vanda pressed Kim's sphincter only resisted momentarily, before allowing the dildo to slide home.
Kim moaned. Her anus contracted sharply. The muscles and sinews of her body, stretched out so tautly, seemed to give every pulse of pleasure a greater impact, her nerves on tenterhooks.
'Don't stop,' Vanda chided, settling down again.
Kim tried to concentrate on the woman's clit, her nose buried deep in Vanda's humid groin, the sticky sap of the woman leaking from it. The woman pressed down even harder, making it difficult for Kim to breathe, her face squeezed tightly between uncompromising thighs.
'Yes...' Vanda moaned, lifting her head, her eyes closed.
The weight on the mattress shifted again. Suddenly Kim saw the Senator's cock forcing its way between her heated face and his wife's sex. Vanda toppled forward, upending her vagina so he could plunge his cock into it, his balls flopping against Kim's chin.
'Suck them,' he grunted through clenched teeth.
Kim was spinning within a myriad of emotions.
'Come on,' he repeated angrily, 'suck them. Do as you're told.'
Kim closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and peeled her lips open, allowing one of his balls to nestle inside her mouth. She heard the Senator groan, his cock jerking violently and pulling against his scrotum. This in turn had a huge affect on Vanda, who reacted at once. She cried out, thrust her buttocks back against her husband so violently his balls were wrenched from Kim's mouth, and came, the muscles of her thighs clamping around Kim's head.
As soon as her crisis had passed the Senator pulled out of her and disappeared from Kim's sight. Slowly Vanda rocked back onto her heels and got up.
Kim wearily raised her head. The Senator was standing over her, his erection spearing from his belly, glistening and wet. His wife squeezed it, making the glans swell even further.
Around the dais Jake's guests were devouring the action. But he stood aloof. He stared straight at Kim, that hypnotic gaze making her heart miss a beat.
The Senator moved and blocked her view. He knelt between her legs. The effort of keeping her head raised was too uncomfortable, and she let it fall back onto the mattress. She felt the Senator's weeping cock nudging into her sex. With her legs bound so far apart there was nothing she could do to stop it.
'The little bitch is begging for it,' he wheezed, his face red and sweating from the exertions. But instead of pushing deep he held himself there, the smooth wet glans poised between her equally wet labia.
'And so are you, aren't you?' his wife crowed. She picked up the whip again, positioned herself behind the bulky mass of her husband, raised her arm, and swiped the whip down onto his naked buttocks to a buzz of approval from the onlookers. The Senator's cock was propelled into Kim's sex, impaling her with one long penetration. She moaned as the breath was shunted from her lungs.
Vanda cut the whip down again, making the Senator's large buttocks quiver. The force of the initial penetration and the vibrations in her anus had already pitched her to the brink of orgasm. However debauched all this was, however much her mind told her she shouldn't be enjoying it, her body was registering pleasure that wiped away any shame.
Vanda rained the blows down, each one making the Senator shudder and thrust his cock evermore violently. He groaned loudly and Kim felt him throb inside her.
A last violent swipe of the whip drove him fully into the depths of her vagina, where the vibrations from the dildo were most extreme. Kim felt a stream of spunk jetting into her, hot and thick, and as it did so she came too.
Her natural reaction was to wrap her arms and legs around him, but when she tried to do this in the throes of her climax, the sharp reminder that she was bound and completely powerless gave her such a shock she came again. Her orgasm seemed to go on forever, her eyes clamped shut by its intensity.
She was only vaguely aware of the Senator pulling away, but then another sensation made her open her eyes with shock. Vanda had dropped to her knees and was greedily sucking her sex. Kim felt her tongue lapping, licking up the sticky spending of her husband. It was all too much. Kim felt herself coming again. She pulled at the bonds, not trying to free herself but wanting to feel the constriction. This time she screamed as the force of another orgasm overcame her...
Kim was exhausted, and lay for a long time with her eyes closed, concentrating on the little shocks of pleasure that still played through her body like orgasms in miniature. When she mustered enough strength to open her eyes and raise her head, both the Senator and his wife were gone.
The other guests had dispersed too - she was alone.