In the Chair

I do not know how long I have been in the chair. We came home, my Master, my Mistress, and I, from an afternoon in the park and a bit of antiquing, had a simple and wonderful dinner, and I was brought up to the master suite where the chair was waiting, draped in a pure white sheet and decorated with leather straps on the arms and front legs. I hadn’t expected this. I wanted this. I fantasized about this for months. I wanted to be trussed up tighter than a defendant in old Salem and used like a whore, but we had been so busy over the last couple days that the fantasy had slipped from my mind.

They undressed me, exposing my freckled flesh and big tits to the humid July air that punished the suite. My Mistress gave me a light, sweet kiss as she tickled my belly and slid my panties past my hips. My Master, standing behind me, pulled my long red hair to one side and kissed my warm neck. I turned my head, looking for his mouth. It was savory and his tongue tickled me with its hundreds of little bumps. He placed a velvet sleep mask over my eyes. They gently walked me backwards and sat me in the chair. The sheet was cool on my bare skin. It was the only cool thing in the room. They lashed my wrists to the arms of the simple padded chair, and my ankles to its chrome legs. Then, they left. I heard them go downstairs, and they have not returned.

How long has it been? How long are they going to torture me like this? There are moments when the sultry summer air lulls me into sleep. I wake with a start and I don’t know if I was dozing for seconds or hours. Strange sensations and images from falling into quick dreams obscure reality. There are moments when I think they are in front of me, but they are phantom feelings. Every creak and sound from within and without the house makes my head turn in hope that it is them, standing nearby and waiting to use me at their leisure.

I hear creaking on the stairs. Are they are both returning? Is this illusion? How long has it been? It has been long enough that the chair’s white sheet is soaked from my sweat and my juice. I want to call out to them, but I know that such an act might make them leave. They are silence personified. If I say anything, they will disappear.

They are here. They are close. They are next to me. This is no illusion. I can feel the heat of their bodies. My body has become a five-foot once-inch antenna for the slightest sign of them. My fingers strain to touch them. My breath quickens. They have encircled me, like wolves watching a deer. I lean forward in the chair, trying to brush my face against them. There is nothing but empty, humid air.

Who will strike first? What is going to happen? How long have I been in this chair? Would my Master pinch and twist my nipples, taking care to tweak the solitary ring in my left breast, or would my Mistress slide her sultry tongue between my lips? Would they attack in collusion, or take their turns with me while the other watched? I don’t know which possibility excites me more. Or would they simply leave me in the chair, leaving me to contemplate more naughty thoughts? I dared not ask them.

Then, there is a brush of fingers across my jaw. My hair is pulled away from my neck and soft lips, those of my Mistress, kiss the wet spot between my neck and shoulder. I sigh, grateful for the simplest of gestures. The kisses walk across my neck to my spine. Her hands caress my bare shoulders and tickle my arms. Another kiss, this one from my Master, lands on my forehead. His stubbly face brushes my cheek and his fingertips slide down my body to cup one of my breasts in his smooth hand.

Then they disappear. They were like ghosts, and I was a prisoner in this haunted, carnal suite. I whimper in protest. My body sways in more attempts to find them. I know they were still there, watching me. They were not far, but with my restraints they may as well have gone back downstairs or even left the house. I could do nothing but wait.

Someone sucks on my fingers. I quiver and moan and manage to caress the cheek of my Mistress with my remaining fingers. She kisses them all as my Master begins sucking on my opposite toes. A fiery current shoots up my arm from my fingers, down over my nipple and belly, through my clit, and down to the sole of my foot. It wis too much. I come in thrashing jerks that rock the chair on the carpeted floor. I can hear my Mistress laughing with appreciation.

There is a warm mouth on my nipple. I groan under the pleasurable heat, a different sensation from the humid, musky air all around me. There is a cold mouth on my other nipple. It holds an ice cube against my nipple ring, raising goose bumps on my tit. The mouths leave me, but soon return, having switched sides this time. My cold nipple is flashed with heat that almost feels searing. The hot nipple is doused in cool ice that dribbles down to my shaking belly.

Someone puts an ice cube on my cunt. I quickly inhale as I jerk back in the chair. My clit is flooded with cold water. My nipples ache in sympathy. My Master’s hot mouth takes place of the cube. His lips clamp onto me like a vise. His hot tongue licks every drop of ice water from my seam. My clit throbs in his mouth. I come again, filling his mouth with something much hotter and sweeter than ice water. My Master sucks my come down his throat, his slippery chin bouncing between my thighs.

My breath comes out in hot rasps. My Mistress kisses me, and her mouth is full of ice. I greedily slurp cold water from her mouth to mine. As the ice melts, the kisses become hungry instead of thirsty. I keep my mouth open as she pulls away, hoping something will be shoved inside. She rewards me with a nipple. I suck and lick and nibble with fervor, not knowing how long I will be given this treat. I can hear my Mistress moaning. I can feel the chair shaking as she steadies herself on it. The nipple slips away, but is replaced by the other. I wish I could see her. I wish I could see the smile on her face from my ardent work.

I did not realize that my Master was gone until he was pulling my head away from my Mistress’ nipple and rubbing his cock over my lips. My mouth opens with obedience and he slides over my tongue like a sword into a hilt. I want all of him in there. I want to feel his balls on my chin. I want my cheeks to be full of his come, but he wants to tease me. He pulls his cock from my mouth, a long trail of saliva hanging off it until it falls onto my ample tits. He strokes his cock over my face, tracing my jawbone and brushing my cheeks and forehead. I lick at whatever I can reach until he and his cock disappear.

I sit in the stillness. I wait. I wonder what will be next. Where they whispering? Was that noise my heartbeat or something they were doing? Would they go back downstairs, and leave me for another hour or more to fall in and out of sleep and awake me when they wanted?

I let out an appreciative moan as my feet are untied. I flex them, my ankles cracking. I bend my knees and wiggle my femurs in their sockets. My legs are lifted up and up, grabbed at the ankles by my Master’s hands. Two mouths lick and suck at my pussy, sending me into a thrashing fit. They take turns licking me, getting me even wetter than I was before. The mouths move away, but my Master’s cock jumps in where they left, plunging in with a hard thrust that slaps our thighs together and nearly topples the chair backwards.

I scream in joy as he pumps his seven-plus inches inside me. My legs are straight up in the air, reminding me of an Old West burlesque show. I can hear his breathing, slow and controlled yet grunting with effort. His body is iced with sweat. I feel like part of a machine, like the great engine of a train or a steam liner.

My Mistress is behind me, biting at my shoulder and squeezing my grapefruit breasts. I search for her mouth, but she keeps it away, moving to my other shoulder, or licking sweat from the back of my neck and the knobs of my spine.

My Master slides his cock out of me. The absence makes me yelp in dismay. His cock, slippery with my wetness, slides between my tits. My Mistress wraps them around his wet cock as he fucks me there. My soft pillows jiggle with each thrust. I yearn for him to come on my throat and all over my chest, like an out of control hose.

“That looks so good,” my Mistress says. They are the first words spoken to me since I was put in the chair. They are like cool water to one dying of thirst. “Do you want a peek? Do you want to see?”

“Yes,” I manage to whisper. Her fingers leave my nipples, immediately replaced by my Master’s strong hands. Her fingers glide over my mouth, and then slowly lift the blindfold, allowing me a dark peek at my Master’s glorious cock slipping back and forth between my slippery tits. I want to scream for him to come on me, but I dare not risk the bawdy request. It may make them tease me more. It may make the blindfold come back down and for them both to disappear again.

The blindfold does drop back over my eyes. The cock between my tits slips away, gliding over my belly and teasing my clit enough to make my bottom come off the chair. I feel them pulling away at the straps that secure my arms. They are like children tearing at Christmas presents. My arms struggle to get free, and then pop out of the open restraints. My hands grope for them. One hand finds my Mistress’ belly and races up to her perky breasts like a kinky crab running over a sandy beach. The other, not finding my Master, scratches up my thigh to my cunt. I slide two fingers inside without hesitation. I sigh in relief, a small orgasm rushing through me. I squeeze at my Mistress’ tits and then wrap an arm around her waist, urging her to come close. I do not remove the blindfold. I do not dare. I have come this far. I do not want to be restricted again…for now.

I am pulled from the chair. My legs, weak with euphoria, cannot support me, but my Master realizes this. He glides me to the floor on my knees. He kisses me. It is a strong, powerful kiss to remind him that he is in control of me. I clutch at his face and arms, loving the simple feel of him.

“You want to make your Mistress happy, don’t you?” His voice…Oh God…His voice makes me melt.

“Yes,” I say.

“And you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then turn around. Stay on your knees, and turn around.”

I do. He snuggles up behind me. I can feel his cock between the cheeks of my ass. It is still wet from my come. His arms slide up my sides and down my arms to my hands. He reaches my hands forward. Our hands find my Mistress’ legs. Her legs are long and strong. They shake a bit as we move up from her knees to her pussy, which is open and wet for me. She sits in the chair. I cannot see her, but she is there in front of me, awaiting me. Our fingers tickle her pussy. She is so wet that her musky scent fills the air. She gives a happy moan as we tickle her clit. My Master runs my fingers all over her cunt, and then brings my fingers to my mouth for a savory, wet treat. I suck our fingers dry.

“Do you want more?” He asks. I cannot speak. My body is shaking too much with anticipation. My breath is too ragged to talk. I merely nod, my mouth full of wet fingers. He shoves my head forward and my mouth is on her cunt. My Mistress lets out a sharp “Oh!” sound and grabs my hair, the way I love to be grabbed. I lick and slurp and eat like it is my last meal. My Master fills my pussy with his cock. His hands are on my hips. His body is slamming into mine. My screams turn into shaky gasps as he fucks my pussy and my Mistress fucks my mouth. I come yet again. The room smells of nothing else now.

My Mistress comes into my mouth. She tastes like sweet water, like some herbal tonic made from mountain roots and tropical leaves. Her pelvis lifts from the chair, her cunt a strong wedge between my lips. She bounces on the chair as she comes down from the high, her hand full of my hair. I barely notice that my Master’s cock is gone. I never stop licking.

My Master pulls me away from my delicious treat, my tongue still sticking out as he lays me back on the floor. My blindfold is damp with sweat and come, but I do not need to see to know that he straddles my face. My hungry mouth sucks at his balls. My hands rub and pump at his cock. His balls are salty, sweet candies in my mouth. His hands grope at my tits, his fingers eventually sliding down to my cunt. My clit buzzes electricity through me as he rubs me there. I can feel his body tensing. I know he is about to come. I want to see it. I want to see his semen splashing over my belly. My legs are clamped around his hand. He manages to escape and he shimmies his body away.

The blindfold comes off. Even in the dim light, the pale light is blinding for a moment. My eyes come to focus on his big cock directly over my face. His hand twists at the head and he shoots hot jism in a white arc onto my tits. I squeeze them together, giving him as much of them as I can. It lands like hot oil on me, making me jump and cry out. It splashes my belly and some lands on my thighs and cunt. My Mistress is there now, lapping it up from my hairy patch and my belly button. There is so much. He seems to be coming for a full minute. My tits look like someone has covered them in egg whites. I suck at his cock, now red and almost raw. He shudders and groans until he sits back, nearly collapsing.

We all lie there on the floor in the humid room: my Master’s head on my belly, my head on his thigh, and my Mistress between my legs with her smiling face just under my titties. We snooze and awake now and then to the sounds and sensations of tender, wet kisses. My Master fetches us glasses of cool water. They are drained in seconds.

We shower. We eat. We sleep. The next morning, we fuck. It is a fun, laughing threesome that ends in a double blowjob for my Master. He promises a special treat for later. When we return from dinner and a movie, we go back upstairs without a word. My body is already tingling. My pussy is already wet. I see the chair. My Mistress’ strap-on is upon it, like a royal scepter on a throne. My Mistress begins to undress. My Master removes my clothes. The sleep mask goes over my eyes. I am placed in the chair, the strap-on jelly cock gone into hiding for now. They strap down my wrists and ankles, and they disappear.

I wait.