Surprise 110

Copyright 2017 Matt Nicholson. All rights reserved.

Disclaimer – Like my other tales, this story pushes boundaries. It's a fantasy story, not the real thing. If you're not into hard breast punishment and fantasies involving less-than-consensual scenes, please go find something lighter. On the other hand, you enjoy such things, I think you'll be very happy with this little surprise party. In any case, please let me know what you think. ~Matt~

*****

April sipped a cup of Kona and brushed her hair as she walked from the bathroom down the hallway. The smooth Bellawood floor was cool beneath her feet, and the brush felt relaxing going through her long, chestnut-colored hair. She wore nothing but light make-up and a white thong beneath one of her husband's unbuttoned white dress shirts. By the time he got home, the shirt would be gone, probably the underwear, too. They were celebrating both of their birthdays, and she planned to make it an evening to remember.

She thought about the special whipped cream and melted chocolate "dessert" she planned for him after a quiet, birthday dinner of steak and lobster tails. She imagined the molten chocolate singeing her nipples and areolas soft and flowing like lava down her breasts. The idea of chilling them back to stiffness with fat dollops of cold whipped cream made them pucker. She imagined her husband voraciously devouring it all, his thick cock pounding her as he sucked and licked the sweets from her skin and sent waves of electric pain through her breasts with his teeth. Her tummy clench and her pussy started to tingle.

She slipped her free hand under the lightly starched shirt and traced a fingernail across the tip of her left breast. The nail rode across her areola's tight ridges and snagged the base of her nipple. Both nipples hardened more and their surroundings pulled even tighter. Lost in thought as the cool air brushed across her already wet labia, she pinched and rolled the thick nub between her fingers.

The doorbell made her jump an inch off the floor. Hastily yanking her hand from beneath the shirt, she took a deep breath to calm her heart and went to the door for a glance through the peephole.

She didn't recognize the couple standing on the other side just beyond the fish-eyed lens, but they looked pleasant enough. They both wore factory-faded jeans and t-shirts. His was flat black, with the words "Let's Be Bad Guys" printed across the front. Hers was a pastel blue with a yellow and red "Superman" symbol rolling over the curves of her breasts. They could have been casually dressed sales people or some new neighbors for all she knew. They weren't carrying bibles and she didn't see any bicycles at the curb. Figuring they weren't there to save her soul, she decided to answer.

"Just a moment, I'll..."

Before she could finish the sentence, the door flung inward, knocking her backward. Back-pedaling against the coat closet door, she dropped the coffee and the brush. Three big men wearing ski masks and dark cargo outfits with lots of pockets rushed in. One moved to the hall. The other two came straight at her.

Before she could think, strong fingers wrapped around her upper arms. Others sank into her calves and thighs and yanked her legs from beneath her. Lifting her bodily, they carried her away from the door, callously ripping her shirt off and slipping thick loops of nylon rope roughly around her forearms and lower thighs as they went. One of them cinched the ropes painfully tight at the same time as one of the others slapped a thick, sticky strip of tape across her mouth.

They dropped her hard onto the pool table, knocking the wind from her. She tried desperately to catch her breath as one held her shoulders down while another bent her knees up and made her feet slide to her bottom. The third slung more rope around her with the skill of a calf-roper. By the time she was breathing again, they'd tied her wrists securely to her ankles so her heels pressed into the outsides of her bottom and the backs of her calves pulled tight against the undersides of her thighs.

She struggled vainly while they spread her knees wide and tied them off to the table's lion's-claw legs. The beaded seam of the pool table's padded hardtop bit lightly into her lower back. Her hips felt as if they would dislocate if her knees were moved a centimeter more apart. All she felt from the waist down was the ceiling fan's breeze tickling her skin and cooling the completely exposed, wet folds between her gaping legs.

Trying to gather her wits, she watched, wide-eyed, as the young couple she'd seen through the peep hole strolled in. The man walked over and stood at her feet. He dropped a lumpy-looking blue duffle bag onto the floor in front of him. The woman casually closed the door and thumbed the deadbolt into place. She glanced at the alarm pad beside the door. The warning beep went silent after a few quick taps of her fingernails. She smiled brightly at the other three invaders.

"32 seconds. Good work, guys! You were worth every penny." She walked over to the table, bending to grab the brush on the way. While squeezing her jean-clad partner's arm, she gave April's rear a stinging slap with the brush's hardwood backside. "Barry, let's celebrate."

April craned her neck to look at her captors. She'd been caught, gagged, stripped, and tied helplessly – all but unable to move – in just over half-a-minute.

The woman pulled a dark green-tinted bottle of Martini and Rossi Asti champagne from the duffle bag and hefted it between April's splayed legs. She popped the cork and smiled tightly.

"Surprise!"

~~~

'Supergirl' tipped the bottle over April's pussy and poured the ice-cold liquid across the small patch of chestnut pubic curls above its freshly-shaved lips. April's breath caught in mid-gasp when the woman corked the bottle with her thumb, gave it a couple of quick shakes and slipped the bottle's mouth easily between April's sopping labia.

"Someone's horny," her captor grinned upon finding April's pussy so well lubed. The bottle's neck pushed deeper into April's warm folds. April gasped again as her vagina hugged its contours and clenched the cold, smooth glass. Laughing at April's reaction, 'Supergirl' pumped the smooth glass in and out like a glass cock, forcing the effervescent liquid from the bottle. It filling April's pussy then splashed down her bottom, soaking her privates and most of her inner thighs in a fizzing cascade.

After several moments, the blonde yanked the bottle out with an audible slurp then trailed it up April's stomach. Champagne filled the hollows of her belly and spilled down her sides. Then it flowed up the undersides of April's heavy breasts. She had yet to catch her breath when the cold liquid struck her nipples. They drew painfully tight and hard.

Laughing again, Supergirl pressed the bottle between April's lips and made her take a long swig, then she drank the last of the champagne herself and tossed it aside.

"She's all yours, boys!"

Before April could react, the S.W.A.T. team tossed their gear aside and converged. They started lapping at the champagne that covered and filled her. One of them went for the more substantial pools of liquid that had gathered around her belly button while two of them using the thin sheen of champagne as an excuse to ravenously attacked her breasts. One dragged his teeth up the length of her areola, scraping the liquid from her flesh until he snagged her nipple, then he bit down until she screamed into the tape.

The other pulled her nipple deep into his mouth, set his teeth in the outside edge of her areola's ruddy flesh, and sucked so hard she thought it would explode. Then he reversed directions and buried his face into the soft mound so deep she thought he'd smother. He crushed her tit painfully into her chest only to draw a whole mouthful of nipple deep between his lips and start again. Before she could adjust to one man's attack, another would change his routine, using the same shock and awe tactics they'd used earlier to keep her completely stunned.

Somebody popped a second bottle of champagne and more of the cold liquid gushed into her pussy before being poured elsewhere.

For all the dizzying torment, it was all she could do not to be consumed by what the fourth person, the one that worked between her wish-boned legs, was doing. For some moments, Barry lapped at her full labia, drawing his tongue deep through them before sucking whole mouthfuls of folds between his lips. He dragged his teeth up the tender flesh, scoring it until he trapped her clit. Then he nipped harder. He cut her screech short by slipping his tongue deep into her. Her cry turned into a moan as he probed and drew his tongue backward until it slipped out. A second later, it attacked her clitoris, which still throbbed from his bite.

She tried to struggle, but the assault overwhelmed her. She had no idea of how to combat it. There was no time to think, no ability to react. Despite the circumstances, her body had started reacting to the pleasure and pain of its own accord. She couldn't stop it, and she wasn't certain she wanted to.

"That's enough for now, boys. Time to get back to earning the money we gave you." Supergirl's voice sounded amused.

The three mercenaries immediately stopped. One of them let April's nipple pop from his lips and responded, "What now, Erica?"

Erica glanced expectantly at Barry, who was completely ignoring her as he ravaged April's pussy. Shrugging, his partner waved the brush in the air. "Hold her tits for me, will you guys?"

Fingers crushed April's breasts and shoved them together. A wash of dull pain rolled back through them into her chest. She opened eyes she hadn't consciously closed. Waves of pleasure started to build between her open thighs. She focused long enough to see thick fingers digging cruelly into the base of her tits, making them balloon, crushing them together into one mass split by a thin line of cleavage. The muscle man grinned from behind his mask.

April had barely managed to follow his gaze from her darkening mounds back to Erica when her clit snapped from Barry's cold teeth. His tongue speared her again. Her vision blurred; the orgasm welled closer. She tried to keep from hyperventilating. She hardly heard the other woman's voice.

"...birthday spanking."

It was only because Erica's targets were so close that April could focus enough to watch the brush fall. The first blow landed with a loud thwack. The backside of the brush buried squarely into the underside of her breast like wooden fire. It all seemed to happen in slow-motion – the brush pushing into her breast, her flesh rippling away from the blow. Barry's teeth pinned her clitoris again; his tongue beat at its tip. A different kind of fire consumed her. She screamed into the tape as an orgasm unlike anything she'd ever experienced exploded in her gut. She forgot about the fire consuming her breasts.

As April moaned and writhed, Erica chuckled and raised the brush. "One!"

April turned twenty-six that day.

~~~

"Twenty!"

Her orgasm had drawn out through the first eight or ten, but now April's breast blazed as the brush sunk deep into it again. "Twenty-one!"

The hired hand had let them go after the fourth or fifth blow, opting to let them bounce. Now, not only did the stern paddling burn and leave mottled patches that were bound to bruise, but the undulating movement caused as much pain as the blows themselves. Tears streamed down April's cheeks. She'd lost track of how many times the brush had popped her tits, singed her bottom, or even slapped her open pussy with resounding wet cracks. She just knew 'twenty-one' wasn't right.

Sometime back, Barry had decided to give his tongue a break, but two of the hired mercs had taken his place. The first mouthed her pussy with testosterone-laden vengeance, the second came in from below, lapping at a fresh splash of champagne cascading between her legs and nipping at the gooseflesh of her exposed bottom.

The hard wood slapped into her right nipple. The loud crack echoed in her ears, mingling with her moans.

"Twenty-two!"

While Erica took a moment to give Barry a probing kiss, April's breasts settled, shifting slightly to the outside of her ribcage from their own weight and bobbing with her heavy breaths. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the sensations between her legs, balancing them against the agony in her tits and the only slightly less intense fire elsewhere.

A new set of fingers squeezed her breasts again. She opened her eyes long enough to see one of the S.W.A.T. guys at her chest. The second held another bottle of champagne in one hand and rearranged his crotch with the other.

At that moment, Erica's face moved between April's and the view. She brought the mouth of the champagne bottle to April's lips and tipped it. April drank as much as she could, until it spilled passed her lips. Then, Erica's warm mouth covered hers, surprising her not only with the kiss, but with its intensity. The woman's breath was sweet; her tongue teased and probed. April found herself responding. She felt the sensations in her womb intensifying.

The brush smacked her bottom. Barry's voice called out, "Twenty-three!"

More champagne drenched April's chest. Hands slipped over freshly soaked skin. Fingers sluiced liquid up from her breast's wide base until her nipples and areola were trapped in shallow pools of bubbly. The next blow fell unerringly, smashing the tenderest parts of her right breast between the back of the brush and the fingers, crushing its tip. The liquid that pooled in the crevices and bruising flesh atomized and sprayed through the air. Wicked pain swallowed her nipple and arced straight to her clit.

Erica broke the kiss, leaving April even more breathless. "Twenty-four!"

Teeth nipped at the crease between her left butt cheek and her thigh while others cruelly dimpled the pads of her labia. A tongue curled inside her. Hands were all over her.

Despite the 'birthday spanking', they'd kept her so breathless it had been some time since her sounds had been much louder than moans. But, as a mouth popped off of her pussy and the brush gave it a stinging slap, something like her fourth orgasm shook her. This time, stars spun behind her eyelids.

"Twenty-five!"

Erica's voice worked its way through the sounds of slurping and slapping and her own quiet moans. While April should have anticipated the final celebratory count when her left nipple took the burning heat of another blow, she could only feel the constant, animalistic, shock and awe attack working between her throbbing hips – that and the alcohol starting to make her head spin.

Another orgasm peaked, or perhaps the last one had never really stopped. Her hips rode up into the air, seeking the mouth that consumed her. It responded by sucking her clit even harder and biting into the fad pads around it. Another wave of ecstasy washed through her even as the agony of another brush stroke battered her left breast. Her head spun even faster.

Fingers brutally twisted her right nipple and stretched her breast out. The brush stung into its underside. Hands sunk into her bucking ass cheeks and pulled her pussy harder into the devouring mouth. The stars whirling behind her eyelids started fading into black. By the time the brush smashed into her again, she'd had enough. Darkness obliterated the few remaining stars and consciousness trickled away with the champagne.

~~~

The sounds of crude, male conversation; a constant dull, throbbing pain enveloping her breasts, bottom, and crotch; and an insistent tugging on her right nipple combined to wake her. She focused on the ceiling through the haze of her champagne buzz. Streamers and balloons hung from the ceiling fan. Between bites of sandwich made with April's expensive whole grain bread and her Whole Foods deli specials, Barry and one of the S.W.A.T. ninjas compared what they'd been doing to her to their past conquests. It sounded as if April had set all sorts of new records.

She glanced down at another persistent tug. Erica was winding something tightly around the bruising, rosy-brown circle of puckered flesh surrounding her nipple. One of the masked men tipped another bottle so the blonde woman could take a drink. The others spread confetti across the pool table.

April looked at the tip of her breast. It had already choked to a deep purple while she had dozed. It stuck out from a wrap of thread binding her areola so tightly it formed a stiff pole of flesh about two inches long. She winced as the other woman tugged another loop into place, yanking the floss so hard it felt as if it cut. Dark purple skin peeked from between white strands of thread. She realized, belatedly, that it throbbed painfully. Her entire breast, mottled as it was with the fiery red of a dozen brush blows, throbbed with the same burning intensity.

Through her stupor she only just noticed that her other nipple was already tied. Its tip bulged swollen over the top of the last loop and the glimpses of areola sticking between threads showed an unnatural midnight blue. Erica glanced up. When she realized April's eyes were open, she looked over at Barry.

"Barry, she's awake. Be a doll and keep her occupied while I finish up, please."

Erica tied off the thread and reached for something outside of April's view. Barry set the half-eaten sandwich on a dry spot beside April's left foot and then knelt between her legs. He smiled broadly.

"Time for dessert."

The remaining hired help pulled a walky-talky of some sort from one of his hundred pockets and walked to the door. Obviously enjoying his assigned duties, Barry set greedily to work.

When his cool lips closed on her burning labia, April closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. Her breasts throbbed like drums and burned like they'd been seared on a grill. Her pussy also stung from the brush's abuse, but thanks to Barry, not nearly as intensely as her tits. In any case, the pain was complimentary, even pleasant. One of the reasons she'd married her husband was his sexual... enthusiasm. He enjoyed himself, quite often beyond the limits a lot of women set. That enjoyment often translated to scratches, scrapes, and bruises, but it also translated to satisfaction most of those women never would have known.

She lost the thought as Barry batted at her clit with the tip of his tongue at the same time as Erica yanked a particularly cruel knot around her nipple. Another orgasm sprang deep from her belly, surprising her with its sudden intensity and lack of warning. Erica laughed quietly and yanked an even more wicked loop. The pain shooting through her only made the contractions stronger.

Once her tremors slipped back to a more constant, low-level quiver, April tried to think. She knew she should be concerned, for all she knew they'd already cleaned out her jewelry and found the safe. She couldn't believe they hadn't raped her, though they may as well have given everything they'd done.

In any case, her nipples had all but gone numb. Though the deep, midnight blue they'd turned was made her worry, she still felt wonderfully dazed, almost sexed out, despite the variety of torment and the situation. If she were to admit it, it had almost been the perfect fantasy. It was out of her control – like the best fantasies always were – filled with the potential for danger, yet plausibly safe.

Between gasps, she watched the blonde wrap her right breast in transparent blue saran – cutting out a hole for the bound nipple and smoothing the cellophane down the battered mound to her ribcage. Using a length of blue cord, Erica tied the cling wrap around the base of April's breast, pulling the cord so hard the muscles in her forearms bunched.