Chapter 42

Lucius grunted. “Somehow, I didn’t think you would. Get on the bed, slut. Grab one of those bars on the headboard.”

The headboard was brass – or pretended to be, at least. Camilla did as she was told, crawling onto the bed and moving to grip one of the bars.

“The center one, I think,” Lucius directed.

Candace shifted a bit and grabbed the center bar. Lucius then produced the set of handcuffs that he’d collected from the toy box and threaded the tip of one cuff through two of the ‘D’ rings on her right wrist binder and then snapped it shut around her wrist, covering the binder. Then he locked the other cuff around the bar.

“There,” he announced, “you ain’t going nowhere, but you ain’t gonna get all banged up by the cuff, either.” He stood there, ruminating. “So, do you like dick, Honey, or are you just spoutin’ the party line?”

Camilla blinked at him. “I, uh, like dick, Sir.” After a moment, she added, “I like yours...” The man’s last visit had ended VERY pleasantly!

Lucius chuckled. “You know who to butter up, I guess.”

Camilla smiled at him. “It’s true, anyway.”

Lucius pursed his lips. “I want to play a little, anyway.” He wandered off, leaving Camilla cuffed to the bedpost, worrying about what was to come.

He had an odd collection of things when he came back. Of concern was the ping pong paddle – but there was also a vibrator – the powerful A/C type with the big, ball-shaped head. He had a couple of other things, too, like clothespins?

He started out with some rope, which he threaded through her ankle binders and tied off to the footboards. She was still on her hands and knees, so he tested things by having her go flat and extend her legs – and he wasn’t pleased with the fact that she could close them, given the slack in the ropes created when she stretched out. After some thought, he ran a loop of rope from one of the bars in the headboard behind both of her knees and cinched it up until she HAD to kneel and could not stretch out, ensuring that the rope could not be dislodged from behind her knees by pulling it around to the tops of her knees and pulling the loops together with zip ties. Camilla was mildly amazed at the stuff he seemed to be able to find down on the main floor of the carriage house. When she was immobilized to his satisfaction, he came around to a point where she could see him easily and said, “I always wanted to do something like this. There is good shit and there is bad shit. Sometimes, there is too much of a good thing. You ticklish, Honey?”

Camilla’s eyes popped. “In some places,” she admitted.

“Here?” He drew a fingernail along the sole of her foot.

Camilla flinched. “Yes.”

“Good.” Lucius pinned her ankle to the bed and began tickling her foot.

“Oh, NO! Please! He he! No! Ogod! He he he! Omigod! You’re killing me! Ahhh! No! PLEEEZE! He he he he! I can’t STAND it! He he! Nooo! Ha ha! Ogod! I’m gonna pee myself!”

That stopped Lucius. “No shit?”

Camilla, who had collapsed, panting, nodded. “Uh huh. I was ... close.”

“Hmmmm...” Lucius rubbed his jaw and wandered off.

Ten minutes later, he was back, with a plastic shower curtain and some towels. “This is gonna get messy, I think,” he announced. It took him several minutes to work the shower curtain under Camilla and get it arranged the way he wanted it.

When he stepped back, Camilla eyed him and said cautiously, “Sir, you really don’t need to do this.”

Lucius grinned. “You’re right. I don’t have to do jack shit! YOU, on the other hand, have to suck it up and deal with whatever I dish out – and I plan to have fun!” He brandished a chicken feather, grinning like a crocodile.

Camilla’s eyes bugged. “OH, NOOO!!!”

It took Camilla all of two minutes and thirteen seconds to lose bladder control, first dribbling, then squirting urine all over the shower curtain while she howled, shrieked and thrashed under the torturous attacks of Lucius’ chicken feather on ticklish spot after ticklish spot!

Lucius was pleased and considered the result well worth the preparation effort – besides, it was only the first of several fiendish little tortures he had in store for ‘The Bitch’.

“Fuck me, Sweetie! You’re so good...” Iris crooned as she dug her heels into the ass of the black boy with the strangely deep voice, using the leverage to raise her wet, needy cunt to the perfect position for him to drive his hot cock deep into her. He was bringing it, hard and deep, delivering powerful strokes that set her on fire! She arched herself, her toes pointed, tension in every muscle of her body as her second orgasm of the bout beckoned. This was what she’d come for – an energetic boy with a nice, hard, virile cock to pound her pussy and sate her cravings.

She’d been thrilled to death when he came into the sauna a few moments after Misha and her boyfriend Chris settled on the bottom bench and started playing – and she’d been even MORE thrilled when his cock popped up and revealed itself to be a worthy weapon! But the REAL thrill had come with the expression of unalloyed pleasure in which the black boy took in her ugly old dumpy body! There had been no flicker of distaste or disgust in those big, brown eyes of his as he took in her relatively small jugs, her wide belly and her puffy, fat pussy – he gave absolutely no indication that he was settling for an old fat bitch because he couldn’t find any young stuff. Instead, the look of joy he gave her as he took her in announced that she was perfect! The first words out of his mouth weren’t, “Well, gee, I dunno...” They were, “I don’t think we want to sweat to death. Can we go find a bed?”

Then he’d been the soul of gallantry while he handed her down from the bench and escorted her back up the back stair to the second floor – and eventually the third – in search of an unoccupied room. Iris would have been happy to tug him along by the cock, but it wasn’t necessary – he held her hand the whole time as they ducked in and out of rooms. There was more than one “Oops!” in the process and they met several people in the halls, but the boy didn’t seem to be embarrassed by towing a short fat woman twice his age along with him at all.

There hadn’t been a ton of romance when they finally found a place, but it hadn’t been ‘Get on the bed and spread ‘em, you old fat bitch!’ either. Smooth cooperation delivered a cock that had never flagged during the delay to the lips of her hungry wet pussy. Then they were doing it – something too smooth and comfortable to be called ‘fucking,’ even if it didn’t have the romance component of ‘making love.’ Iris didn’t have a term for it, but she was loving every second of it!

One look at Iris had told Frog that she had the missing ingredient in his earlier bout with Jiang Yi. Iris wanted him. She would give him anything he wanted, without reservation, in return for the pleasure he would give her. Her age didn’t matter – he LIKED older women – and her looks didn’t, either; he could tell that everything worked and Iris wanted a workout from what she said and that look in her eye. That was all he needed.