Sarah: Party Bondage

Author's note:

This story took on a life of it's own. It began life with a set plan, but what can you do? When I realised that the tone needed to change, I saw a diversion and ran with it. There is therefore guaranteed to be a chapter 5 :)

Please read the previous chapters if you haven't already, so that you know what's going on.

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Chapter 4: Intermission

I stayed that night, sleeping curled around Clay in a guest bed. When I awoke before he did, I teased him erect with the most delicate touches I could, then carefully rolled a condom on and slid down around him as he began to turn and mutter in his sleep, clenching him hard as he woke with a surprised exclamation, sealing his mouth with mine as he leapt to the right conclusion and began to enthusiastically respond.

When I had ridden him to mutual orgasm and then kissed him good morning properly, I went to make us coffee, staying defiantly naked but not running into anyone else.

We had just about finished that pot before Catherine, hearing our voices, gave a polite knock about a third of a second before pushing the door open.

I was sitting up in bed with the sheet covering me no higher than my waist, and I didn't bother to try and cover up.

She sauntered in, wearing a robe tied so loosely that she was almost revealing more than me, dropped onto the bed next to Clay and patted his leg, right up near his groin. I was slightly surprised to realise that I wasn't in the slightest bit jealous.

"Sleep well?" she asked us both, turned side-on so that I was pretty sure I could see a shadow of nipple inside her robe.

"We did, yes," Clay replied, reaching out with one finger to pull her robe open slightly more for a better look.

She raised her eyebrow at him and said "If I'm not very much mistaken, you've already had quite enough of that this morning." She didn't make any move to stop him, however, and he didn't stop looking. "How do you want your - and don't even think of saying it - eggs?"

"Runny and on toast," I said with the straightest face I could muster. They keep chooks, and I wasn't prepared to jeopardise my chances at anything that Catherine made with their eggs.

"Good, I was planning on doing poached. More coffee?"

She didn't bother waiting on an answer - from either of us - but simply grabbed the pot and headed for the door, saying over her shoulder "James has to run Suzanne to the airport in an hour, so breakfast will be ASAP."

We borrowed towels and showered together, and made the kitchen in time to get breakfast while it was being served.

Suzanne waved cheerily at us with a mouthful of toast, dressed in her travelling clothes - slightly warm for even mid-morning, but ready for the cold back home.

James, already dressed for the drive to the airport, waggled a knife in greeting as he industriously buttered toast, and Catherine was swaying around the kitchen in the same gown, looking like a porn actress waiting for her call.

In last night's clothes, I felt distinctly over-dressed, and attempted to divert this feeling by focusing on someone else.

"Not leaving the house today, darling?" I asked Catherine as she paused in her voyage around the kitchen to reach over my shoulder and put one hand down my blouse and coffee into my cup.

"Not if I can help it!" she replied as she drew her palm over my nipple and moved onto Clay, who craned his neck to peer inside her robe, an expression of mildly distracted interest on his face, as she filled his cup.

I sat there as a plate of perfectly poached eggs on toast appeared in front of me, drinking strong plunger coffee, feeling surrounded by domesticity disrupted only by Catherine oozing predatory sexuality, and could not believe how far I had come - from blushing furiously at the very mention of a swinger party, to, well... I looked at Suzanne, busily using a scrap of toast to mop up the last of her egg, and toyed with the idea of throwing her on the table and straddling her mouth.

I felt a warm, sexy, alive rush at the thought and had to return my attention to my coffee again, feeling like the cat that had discovered how to open the fridge and pour its own cream.

"Penny for your thoughts," Clay said and I looked up, startled, to find everybody grinning at me.

With a flush of embarrassment, I suddenly remembered that they had all gathered for my benefit, and that the spotlight was firmly on me.

I opened my mouth, then shut it again. There was no way I was going to admit to what my thoughts had actually been, but I couldn't immediately think of anything to replace them with.

I opened my mouth again, shut it again, blushed suddenly, giggled self-consciously and blurted out "Fuck, I love you guys!"

James just grinned wider at me, Suzanne cheered and Catherine applauded.

All of which just made me blush harder, of course.

Clay and I were finishing breakfast when Suzanne rushed off to the bathroom to clean her teeth, and James portaged her luggage out to their old Peugeot.

I was draining my fourth cup of coffee when she returned. We exchanged email addresses and promised to keep in touch, she gave us each a throat-clearing kiss, and then was gone.

We stood in the driveway to wave them off, Catherine with the wind tugging at her gown in perfect fashion to scandalise the neighbours, and she said "I hope she doesn't take too much out of him when she goes down on him in the car-park. I'm going to be horny when he gets back."

It took me a few seconds to process that, but Clay simply made a show of staring at the watch he didn't have on and saying "I may be able to help, there, I'm not due back home until tomorrow night."

Catherine turned around, pressed him against the door, and slid her tongue down her throat until she could tongue his balls. I pressed myself against her from behind, and pulled her gown apart. Neighbours be damned.

She pulled back from Clay, twisted her head back around over her shoulder, and said "Honey, are up to being a toy?"

My face must have mirrored what that question did to me, because they both started grinning at me.

Catherine slipped out from between us, breasts hanging out of her robe, and moved around behind me as Clay casually pushed himself upright. I felt like I was being circled by sharks.

With one hand each on my back, they lead me, compliant, towards the master bedroom.

I had never actually been in Catherine's bedroom before. That fact dwelt in my mind as they lead me though the door. I'm not sure why.

They put me in the middle of the floor, in front of the bed, and ordered me not to move. Catherine, the edges of her robe caught on her nipples, stood in front of me and slowly untied the sash, letting it fall open and leave her fully nude as she looked me up and down with a calculating air that made me simultaneously shiver with trepidation and go weak at the knees with expectation.

Clay reached around me from behind and started unbuttoning my shirt. I had the sudden, mad thought that at least my agonising over dressing last night wasn't going to be wasted.

He tugged the shirt off my shoulders, quickly dealt off my bra and left me naked from the waist up, still standing meekly and almost hypnotised in front of Catherine's completely dominant eyes.

I almost didn't notice my leather skirt being unzipped and slipped down to my feet, as Catherine dropped her robe and, entirely naked, closed the distance between us with a single step, grabbed my breasts in her hands and began kissing me so assertively that I was powerless to do anything except stand there and whimper into her mouth as she kneaded my breasts like bread dough.

I dimly heard Clay say "I think we should leave the stockings," and Catherine stepped back, releasing my breasts, which felt a rush of blood which nearly made me stagger.

She took in the stockings attached to the panties I had converted into crotchless, and said. "I agree. Get rid of that skirt, slut!"

The totally dominant, dismissive way in which she said that, one of my most hated words, made me moan and bite my lip as my pussy spasmed and began to leak down my inside thigh.

What, I wondered dazedly as I stepped out of my skirt, is happening this time?

As I straightened up, Catherine reached forward and grabbed my crotch in her hand. I gasped and nearly collapsed, only held up by grabbing her shoulders with both hands.

Suddenly Clay took hold of my wrists, pulled them behind me and, quickly and efficiently, tied them with what felt like twenty turns of rope.

Standing on high heels, my arms held behind me, I could barely stand as Catherine felt me like a piece of meat, smoothly slipped two fingers inside me, and said "Excellent! Our little girl is growing up into a beautifully wet little slut!"

She began walking backwards towards the bed, pulling me after her with the two fingers deep inside me. I stumbled after her, nearly falling.

When she hit the edge of the bed, she pulled her fingers out of me and lay back, sucking them while she spread her own lips with her other hand.

I thought I knew what was expected of me, but when I began to bend down, Clay slapped me on the arse with something large and flat, and said "From the hips. Keep you legs straight."

I gasped at the slap, as gentle as it was, and my legs shot straight. I began to bend down again, and he slapped me again. "Keep your back straight, as well."

I pivoted at the hips, keeping my back and legs rigidly straight, very nearly over-balancing. Only my heels let me do it. Then, as I was terrified of actually falling, Catherine reached out, grabbed me by the hair, and pulled down.

With a shriek, I fell the rest of the way, landing with unexpectedly delicious pain on my breasts, my face nearly in Catherine's intoxicatingly musky pussy. I didn't even think to notice that the bed was just the right height for this.

Clay slapped me again. "Legs straight!" He demanded.

My legs straightened compulsively, feeling a small burn as my thighs stretched.

He slapped me again "Back straight!" Then again, "Arse out! I want to see you pussy between your legs."

I closed my eyes and moaned, wetter just from what he said, when Catherine grabbed my hair and said "Start licking, bitch."

I buried my head in her pussy, and the first taste nearly made me drunk. Then the first spank in earnest began and I jumped, squealing into Catherine, but nothing short of force was going to make me stop now.

Clay struck me again, and again, and every jolt made me jerk forwards as I tongued Catherine's clit as well as I could. Suddenly she grabbed my head as she came, gasped out "Stop!" and lifted my head by the hair, painfully bending my neck upwards.

"How many strikes was that?" she demanded.

My head spun. They were expecting me to count? "I don't know!" I managed to gasp out.

Catherine yanked my hair. "I don't know, Mistress!" I could hear the capital.

"I don't know, Mistress!" I gasped, desperately.

"Then we'll begin again," she said, and dropped my head back into her pussy.

I set to eagerly, but this time Clay altered the angle of his strikes and, as well as my arse, he was touching the edges of my swollen pussy lips as well.

I squealed again, and this time fire jolted right through me with every impact, but I kept tonguing. I came violently, twisting under the blows but my mouth not moving from Catherine's soaked pussy. She grabbed my head twice more and I came again before she gasped out " Stop!" again, and lifted my head up.

"How many?" she demanded, face flushed.

Oh, shit. I thought it was about 23, but I knew I had lost count, so I said "Twenty five, Mistress?"

"Wrong," Clay said calmly from behind me.

"Then we start again." I was nearly crying when she dropped my head back into her pussy again, but like an automaton I went right back to licking it.

I didn't count how many times she grabbed my head, and I'm not even sure how many times I squealed and bucked as the impacts on my exposed pussy lips made me cum.

The next time Catherine yanked my head up, I gasped out "Thirty, Mistress?" and Clay said "Correct."

I really did sob with relief when Catherine said "Then we can stop now."

She pulled me up the bed towards her, and my legs literally failed me. I collapsed before getting my knees onto the bed, and I felt Clay lift and slide me until I was lying fully on top of Catherine, our mounds pressing together.

Her tongue invaded my mouth, and all I could really do was lie there and whimper as she kissed me hungrily and her hands roamed all over my body.

Suddenly Clay, very naked, was next to us and Catherine was taking his cock right into her throat.

I had barely recovered breath when he slid out of her mouth and into mine. I certainly couldn't do anything except lie with an open throat as he fucked it. Catherine, underneath me, managed to get his balls into her mouth and made growling noises deep in her throat as she sucked them.

I was feeling a little delirious when he pulled out, soaking wet with my saliva, and rolled me off Catherine to lie beside her, tied hands still trapped beneath me. I lay there, trying to recover, as he straddled Catherine, pushed her heavy breasts together, and began fucking them.

She sighed happily, pressing her flesh more tightly around his shaft, while the world slowly stopped spinning about my head. I was just beginning to feel left-out when he stiffened, grunted, and shot a thick, white, milky stream onto the underside of Catherine's chin as she lay with her head back and her eyes tightly closed.

He fell sideways off her when he had finished spurting, and just looked at me.

Unsteadily and awkwardly, I scrambled astride Catherine, my knees on either side of her ribcage, and, breasts to breasts, began to clean her with my tongue. I dimly heard the sound of a condom packet opening, before I felt Clay grasp my hips and then slide inside me.

I cried out, so sensitive that the sensation was exquisitely painful, and attacked his cum on Catherine's neck as he set up a steady, driving rhythm inside me.

I came twice, crying out each time, before I felt him spasm and slam hard into me a final time, holding there and twitching as I came again, weakly.

The only thing on Catherine's neck was my saliva and I collapsed against her, gasping weakly as I felt Clay withdraw and then tenderly unwrap my wrists.

My arms flopped bonelessly to my sides and Clay had to help me roll off Catherine and sprawl next to her.

My shoulders hurt, my arse was throbbing and my pussy was once more aching.

"Fuck," I said. Then I giggled, and repeated "Fuck!"

Catherine rolled over, kissed me tenderly, smacked her lips, said "Shower," and rolled gracefully off the bed to head in that direction.

Clay languidly got dressed, lay my clothes neatly next to me, and said "More coffee?"

"More coffee," I repeated. "Please, you god amongst men."

He sketched a bow and departed as, my eloquence deserting me, I softly repeated "Fucking hell!"