Lunch was a surprisingly tasty cream of carrot soup, game pie and an anise salad, with apricot crêpes for dessert. As it was just Kitty and Wanda at the table, Consuela didn’t offer any alternatives. Wanda was dubious about the game pie’s cold jelly-set contents but her first bite sufficed to dismiss her reservations. Pheasant, venison and hare? She’d never tasted any of those before but she certainly would again. And the rich jelly was ‘to die for’. She resolved to ride Blondie that afternoon. If she didn’t start exercising more, she’d blimp up, for sure.
There was a message from the moms. They’d scored theatre tickets and would be sleeping over in town for a couple of nights. They could be reached at the Hilton, suite 1112. Kitty giggled. Wanda threw her friend a ‘look’ but couldn’t help giggling herself. Just one suite for the two of them? That was a dead giveaway, if ever there was one.
Wanda was contemplating a second crêpe when they heard raised voices from the kitchen.
Consuela said, ‘I don’t care if that’s some sort of crazy new fashion, go and wash your silly face.’
A masculine voice replied, ‘Why, Ma? I showered this morning, like always. I’m clean.’
Kitty’s foot nudged Wanda’s under the table.
Consuela continued, with steel in her voice, ‘Don’t argue with me, boy, go do it, now.’
Chuck, Consuela’s youngest, trudged through the eating room, head bowed and shoulders slouching. He glanced quickly at the women, then away, his face crimson with shame.
Once he’d left, Kitty said, ‘See, Wanda? When I set a trap for a man, he’s caught.’
Wanda asked, ‘What? How on earth did you do that?’
‘I ringed the eyepiece of the telescope with eyeliner.’
‘So that’s why he looks like a raccoon! Kitty, you are one crafty little bitch!’
‘Aren’t I now! You saw how red his face was when he realised we’d heard his mom give him hell? How red do you think it’ll be after he looks in the mirror and finds out why?’
‘So you’ve caught our Peeper. Now what are you going to do with him?’
‘Let the punishment fit the crime.’
‘Meaning?’
‘You’ll see.’
When Chuck came back through, he tried to be invisible, which is hard for six-foot two of lanky ranch-hand.
Kitty stopped him in his tracks with a sharp: ‘Chuck, we need to talk. On the side veranda, twenty minutes, got it?’
He nodded and swallowed hard.
When he got to his unwelcome appointment with Kitty and Wanda, he was full of false bravado. ‘You can’t tell Mr Henry on me,’ he said. ‘I’d tell him what you two was up to.’
Kitty replied, ‘Mr Henry? I wasn’t thinking of telling him. He wouldn’t care, anyway, but he’d sure fire your ass, young man.’
‘What then?’
‘How would you like your mom to know that you spy on Mr Henry’s lady guests?’
The boy went paper-white and clutched the hitching rail. ‘Y-you wouldn’t!’
Kitty narrowed her eyes. ‘Maybe, maybe not. It depends. Chuck, if you want to save your miserable skin, I own you. You got that?’
‘W-what do you mean?’
‘You’ll see. I say “frog”, you jump, got it?’
He nodded.
‘Frog.’
He did a little jump.
‘More enthusiasm, next time. Now, these are my instructions. Tomorrow morning, nine o’clock, report to the roof sundeck. Don’t be late.’
‘I ain’t allowed out there.’
‘Only the three of us will know. No excuses. Be there.’
‘Yes, Miss,’ he told Kitty. ‘Yes, Ma’am,’ to Wanda.
‘You may leave us.’
He actually bowed as he backed away.
‘Got him!’ Kitty said.
‘So, what will you do with him?’
‘You’ll see, my sister in conspiracy. You’ll see, tomorrow morning.’
‘I don’t get even a tiny hint?’
Kitty mused. ‘Very well, just one.’
‘And that is?’
‘There will be ice involved.’
That gave Wanda food for thought as she rode Blondie that afternoon. Some of the ideas she came up with she hoped weren’t what Kitty had in mind for Chuck, but who knew? The girl had a wicked streak as wide as a football field. She might be capable of just about anything, given a helpless male slave to torment. Being someone’s slave could be very dangerous, with the wrong mistress – or master. With the right one, on the other hand … Wanda shivered deliciously, despite the warmth of the day. The words ‘To love, honour and obey’ echoed in her mind. She and Henry hadn’t discussed their vows yet. She somehow thought they never would. Henry didn’t seem the ‘discussing’ kind of man. He seemed more the arbitrary-decision type. She’d heard it said that the best possible form of government would be a truly benevolent dictatorship. It made sense to her.
Then again, there’d been no mention of a prenuptial agreement. The day they married, she’d become a very rich woman, not that the money was relevant. Of course not. No way. She’d still marry him if he was broke, for sure. Not to disrespect wealth, though.
She nudged Blondie into a gallop so that she’d have to concentrate on riding and force her imagination to rest. Wanda rode hard until her thighs were as stretched and stiff as she hoped they’d get on her honeymoon, or even sooner, Henry willing.
At a quarter to nine the next morning, Wanda, wearing a brief summer play dress and ballet flats, made her way through the ranch’s formal dining room. Its furnishings were antique mahogany. She thought they were Duncan Phyfe, but she wasn’t sure. The table had ten chairs along each side, so, with Henry at the head and her at the foot, it’d seat twenty-two. Most likely it was only used for high days and holidays. There was a floor-to-ceiling serpentine breakfront that was really impressive, if a little overbearing.
The next room held linen chests and shelves of flatware and glasses, handy for the dining room. In the far-left corner there was the wrought-iron spiral staircase that Kitty had told her led up into the tower. The next floor was for storage, mainly plain, handmade pine furniture. It had to be from the original ranch house. Wanda couldn’t imagine how the heavy pieces could be manoeuvred down the spiral stairs, but that wasn’t her problem.
The top floor had big round windows on all four sides. There were a couple of armchairs and a bookcase that was full of dusty old books. A side table held a humidor that was empty. Close at hand was an ashtray stand and a small cabinet that had likely held booze at one time. This room had to have been Henry’s grandpa’s private retreat. What had he used the telescope for? Star-gazing or peeping at lady guests? She’d never know. Some of each, maybe?
The telescope was more modern than she expected. It was thick, with two barrels, and it wasn’t ‘telescopic’. It had no brass rings. That silly boy, Chuck, had left it aimed at the sunbathing roof. Well, that saved her from adjusting its position. Wanda tore open a wet-wipe pack and very carefully cleaned off the make-up Kitty had smeared around the eyepiece. The lad had moved an armchair to the perfect position. Wanda sank into it and put her eye to the ’scope. Half a turn of the lens brought the rooftop into perfect focus, just in time for her to see Kitty, in a minute crocheted pink bikini, let Chuck into the men-forbidden area and wedge the chair under the door’s handle.
Wanda couldn’t hear what was being said on the rooftop but Kitty seemed to be accommodating her for that with theatrical hand gestures and movements. With one hand fisted on her hip, she pointed to Chuck’s boots. He kicked out of them sheepishly. Kitty wagged a finger under his nose. He stood at attention and went red as she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it down off his broad shoulders. Kitty walked around him, inspecting his chest, shoulders and back, like he was livestock she might be persuaded to buy, if the price was right. Chuck’s lower lip quivered with embarrassment. Showing no mercy, the girl took pincer-grips of both his nipples and twisted them, hard. His knees almost buckled but he endured the humiliating torment. Wanda almost felt sorry for him. That Kitty, she was something else! Wanda could never have brought herself to treat a man like that. Now, if a man was to treat her that way, that’d be different. Hard to bear, maybe, but different.
Kitty pointed at Chuck’s jeans. He shook his head. She said something threatening. He very slowly unbuckled his belt. Kitty, showing impatience, gripped his pants on each side of his lean hips and yanked them down to mid-thigh. Defeated, he skinned them down the rest of the way and kicked out of them in just his boxers. Kitty fisted both of her own hips and made her demands. She pulled his shoulder to face him more directly at the tower, and at Wanda. Crimson-faced, the ranch-hand pushed his underwear down and stood with his hands covering his genitals. The muscles in his thighs were quivering with shame.
Kitty shook her head. She said something forceful. Chuck, as slowly as he dared, moved his hands to link behind his naked bottom. Kitty waggled a finger, telling the lad to revolve, which he did, shuffling. His cock wasn’t erect. It stood out at its base but curved down to dangle. Kitty pointed at it and gave a command. Chuck took hold of its shaft between a thumb and his fingers and gave it a long slow stroke, then another. His face was berry-red. He looked on the point of tears. If he’d fantasised about sex with Kitty in the past, which he surely had, this certainly wasn’t what he’d imagined it would be like. What was he – nineteen? He’d expect to be the seducer, not the abject sex slave. Wanda had to wonder if he’d be able to perform, sexually, under the circumstances.
His penis answered her question. It had risen to jut up at forty-five degrees, and it looked both thicker and longer.
Kitty nodded to show her approval. She pointed to Wanda’s lounger and gave his shoulder a shove. He sank back onto the long seat. Kitty gave more instructions. He raised both hands above his head to grip the top bar of the chaise. Kitty put her hands on his and squeezed, obviously telling him he wasn’t allowed to let go of the chaise. She squatted beside him and arranged the poor boy’s legs, feet flat on the ground to either side, calves straight up, knees spread wide. With his limbs parted like that, his genitals were totally unprotected, despite the way his thighs twitched from time to time. The urge to cover himself must have been hard to resist, but Kitty had the upper hand. He apparently dared not disobey her.
She perched on the edge of the chaise and leaned over to inspect his cock and balls from close up. His face twitched in a paroxysm of embarrassment. Chuck closed his eyes tightly and bit his lower lip.
Kitty waved to Wanda and pointed at Chuck’s now drooping cock. Her eyebrows lifted in a question. Wanda nodded, even though she knew Kitty couldn’t see her, giving the girl her permission to continue the sexual torment she was putting her victim through. Wanda changed her grip on the telescope, swapping right hand for left. Her right was needed up under her brief skirt. Why hadn’t she thought to bring her vibrator? Oh well, fingers came first, so to speak.
Kitty brushed the backs of her fingers up and down the length of Chuck’s shaft. It stiffened instantly. The boy writhed on the spot, seeming desperate to move but terrified of the consequences of disobedience. Wanda’s friend took a firm grip on the boy’s cock and pumped it, but very, very slowly. A slight adjustment to the telescope’s lens brought the lad’s glans into sharp focus. It had turned purple and was leaking crystal droplets. How he had to be aching. Wanda could almost envy him. To be humiliated at the same time as being erotically tortured, that had to be a really special feeling.
Chuck’s six-pack abdomen rippled. His clenched rump came up off his seat. Kitty spoke to him sharply. He subsided but his persecution continued. Wanda counted. Kitty was taking between three and four lingering seconds on each upstroke and the same down. What an agony of lust the lad had to be suffering!
Kitty’s free hand joined the play, toying with the lad’s scrotum, jiggling his balls and scratching gently beneath them. The fingers of Wanda’s right hand tugged her panties aside.
Chuck was rigid. His biceps bulged. The long muscles in the fronts of his thighs contracted and relaxed, mimicking fucking but not moving him a single inch. Kitty gave Wanda the ‘OK’ sign and winked. Wanda nodded and found the slippery button of her clitoris with the ball of her thumb. Her index finger curled up inside herself to reach the spongy mass of her G spot. She squeezed. Her clit slipped aside like a wet orange pip but her thumb followed it mercilessly.
Kitty sat herself astride the lounger, lower down, and leaned towards Chuck’s erection. Was she relenting? Was she going to give him head as a reward for his servile obedience? It seemed not. She was simply intensifying her torture. Partly turned aside, to give Wanda a better view, she simply gripped the boy’s shaft, just below its head, and lapped, once, passing the tip of her tongue across the ‘knot’ beneath his glans. He jerked. As a preamble to a good strong sucking, Chuck would have enjoyed that, no doubt, but it was the prelude to her simply looking at his manhood for a long count, perhaps a full minute, before repeating the action. He jerked again. His face was screwed up with lust. He was big and strong. Kitty was tiny and weak. He could easily have grabbed her head and thrust his cock halfway down her throat, but he didn’t. She had him totally under her control. She’d tamed the lusty beast, utterly, it seemed to Wanda.
By Wanda’s count, Kitty lapped the underside of Chuck’s cock, flicking its knot at the end of each tongue-stroke, once a minute for a good fifteen minutes. The boy was almost convulsive with cruelly restrained lust. Those of his muscles that weren’t straining were twitching. When was that naughty girl going to show him some mercy?
The feline in question stood up. What now? She unlaced the bottom of her bikini, tossed it aside and threw one leg over Chuck to bestride his hips, facing Wanda. Kitty lowered herself, perhaps crooning something sexy to him. If it had been Wanda’s performance, she’d have used her voice to make it worse for him.
Kitty bent to reach down and back between her own wide-spread thighs and took a firm grip on his shaft. She lowered herself. When just an inch separated the flaccid lips of her sex from the engorged dome of Chuck’s cock, she paused. The bitch! Down that inch. A little rub, just barely making contact. Another pause. Lower. Lower. Half of the helmet was lodged between her lips. Slowly, slowly … A wink at Wanda. Half of his shaft was inside her. Three-quarters. Finally, the entire rigid length. And there she sat, not moving,
Her lips blew a kiss in Wanda’s direction. How that little tease was enjoying her power over her helpless victim! Perhaps he begged because Kitty half turned to say something, something sharp and admonishing, no doubt. She lifted herself up, perhaps two inches. Her hips swung left, then right. She did a little bump followed by a long slow rotation, stirring her soft insides with his rigidity. Then down again for another long pause.
Wanda had to give Chuck credit. Most young men, subjected to the treatment that Kitty was subjecting him to, would have climaxed. Perhaps he simply didn’t dare.
Wanda would have enjoyed being teased to the point of insanity. Was it the same for men? She’d never treated a man the way Kitty was treating Chuck. Most likely, she couldn’t. It just wasn’t in her nature. It certainly was in Kitty’s, though. Well, even if Wanda couldn’t bring herself to treat a man that way, she could still enjoy watching another girl do it.
Kitty lifted again, but all the way off this time. When she’d steered his shaft back into contact, she came down faster. And lifted. And down. Accelerating. So, the lad was finally getting what he craved. That was a relief, and a disappointment.
Past Kitty’s body, Wanda could see Chuck’s mouth gape open. He had to be bellowing out that ferocious noise that some men make when they near their orgasms. Wanda stroked herself faster, trying to keep up.
Kitty paused, leaned sideways to the little plastic table, grabbed two handfuls of ice cubes, dismounted Chuck’s bucking hips and slapped both hands onto him, one icing his balls, the other his shaft.
He froze in place. His cry must have turned from a joyous one to one of anguish, if Wanda could have heard it. He looked like he babbled something, pleading or complaining or just spewing nonsense. His erection wilted. Poor Chuck!
Kitty bestrode him again. She guided his limp length back into position. Smiling at Wanda, the vixen held up both hands. Her right was still full of ice. Her left held her vibrator. She weighed the two, as if deciding on something. The vibrator touched the base of Chuck’s shaft. Even with only an inch of it showing, Wanda could see it stiffen. Kitty lifted, trailing her own pussy with the plastic toy. On her descent, she replaced the vibrator with ice. What would that do to a man? He was being fucked by a gorgeous girl but simultaneously getting his cock frozen – or sometimes vibrated on. He’d never know which to expect. The agony!
Well, it looked like being a long morning. Wanda skinned out of the panties she’d been wearing around her knees and settled down in a more comfortable position. How to get the most fun? Perhaps she’d give herself a climax soon, then start over.
She should have brought a snack up into the tower. It looked like all three of them were going to miss lunch.