Fevered Fall part 6 of 6 (NND)

                                          Chapter Six

         “They must rest,” Helene said.  She gazed down at myself,
Audrey, and my aunt.  We sat naked on a wooden bench in her basement. 
We had been scrubbed clean by the men after they peed on me.  Now we
were downstairs, being permitted a brief respite before being tortured
anew. 
         Helene had stripped off her bikini panties.  She had donned new
clothes, however.  Now she wore her hair in an elaborate coif, with a
corset round her midsection.  The corset covered her belly but left her
tits free.  They wobbled nakedly above the decorative fringe of her
garment.  Below, where her corset formed an upward-arching vee, Helene’s
bush could be seen.  How prettily furred her nest was!  I could see her
pubic lips, soft and exposed, looking quite brazen in contrast to the
corset which gripped and shielded her midsection.
         Helene’s legs were long columns of silk.  Thin, delicate
stockings sheathed both her legs.  The stockings rose to the uppermost
parts of her thighs, where a band round the top of each held it in
place.  No garters were needed.  When she turned, Helene’s bottom made a
bold display.  It was round and saucily bare.  On her feet beautiful
silver heels sparkled; one would have thought her dressed for a ball, if
it weren’t for the sexy display of her bottom and pussy and cleavage.  
         To complete the picture of dissolute luxury, Helene had draped
a frilled shirt over her shoulders.  It had long, puffy sleeves that
enclasped her arms right down to her wrists.  But the shirt had no
collar, no buttons, and could not be closed.  Helene let it hang open,
framing her nude breasts, covering her back, down to her waist.  The
shirt was too short to conceal the bare cheeks of her bottom.
         In her coiffed hair, Helene had tied a ribbon.  It was silver
in color, with a touch of pink.  It matched her corset, her frilled
shirt, and her stockings.  It was merely decorative.  Like her corset,
it served no useful function, other than to adorn her.  Helene smiled. 
She stalked back and forth in front of us, slapping a riding crop
against her thigh.  She let her bosoms shake freely, their nipples
visibly hard.  She wiggled her hips with the abandon of a streetwalker
seeking clients on the curb.  With her eyes, she watched as my auntie
and I and Audrey were fed wine and cakes by the men.
         With my hand, I tenderly rubbed my pussy.  It still hurt, a
little, but the pain I’d felt earlier had now transformed itself into a
warm, suffusing glow.  I felt hot and sexy.  I wanted to run, to escape,
but between my own lust and the memory of the cat biting my cunt,
inciting it, I could not.  I had to find fulfillment here before I
left.  I gaped at the men as I ate the small cakes they offered us. 
Both men were naked.  Their muscular arms rippled.  Their thighs tensed
and relaxed.  Their white buns flexed.  I was so awed by their movement,
especially by their cocks!  How freely their penises stemmed!  How taut
and full their balls looked!  Both men wiggled their loins frequently in
obvious anticipation of cumming.  They were hungry.  Desperate, even. 
Alas!  I was too!  I burned with a desire I could barely understand.  I
had to be filled.  At the moment I was forced to content myself with
filling my belly.
         “You like the cakes?” Helene asked.
         “Yes,” my aunt said, her eyes wide, biting into a cake but
gazing with desirous eyes at the bare backside of David.  He uncorked
another bottle of wine.  Instead of refilling our glasses with it he
lifted it to his lips and drank freely.
         “David!  You are to attend to the girls!” Helene said to her
houseguest.
         “Sorry.  All that peeing made me thirsty, I guess,” David
said.  He smacked his lips.
         “You are to attend solely to the needs of the young ladies,
David,” Helene scolded.  “I don’t mind if they get tipsy.  But I’ll not
have two drunken bastards down here, especially two bastards with
hard-ons.”
         “We’d be harder to control if we were drunk, wouldn’t we?” Alan
asked.  He offered round a tray of little brown cakes, in expectation
that my auntie and Audrey and I would want more.
         “Yes,” Helene said.  “I need you both sober if you’re to do as
I say.  I’ve tried letting men get drunk before.  They lose all respect
for me.”
         “Hmmm.  Sounds like a great reason to get sloshed,” Alan said.
         “We can get sloshed all we want later, downtown,” David said. 
“She’s right.  There’s no telling what we might do if we got shitfaced.”
         “Personally, I’d grab that wine right now if she weren’t so
beautiful, and drink the whole thing right down!” Alan said.
         “You’d have to get past me to do it,” David reminded him.  He
turned to me.  “More wine?” he asked me, in a most hospitable voice.
         “No,” I said quietly, gazing at his big penis.
         “I insist,” David said.  He refilled my glass.
         “Really, Helene, we must be going!” my auntie said to our
hostess.
         “Not yet, dear,” Helene said.  “I have an important lesson to
teach you.”
         “What’s that?” Audrey asked.
         “I want you to feel what it’s like to be boys,” Helene said.
         “Helene!” my aunt cried.  “Whatever do you mean by that?” 
Reflexively she cupped her cunt and looked at our hostess with a mixture
of awe and fear.  Helene gestured with her long crop at David and Alan.
         “Look at them!” Helene said.  “Look how erect their cocks are! 
I have been studying men, and you would not believe how achingly painful
it can be for a man to have an erection.  Isn’t that true, gentlemen?”
she asked.  Helene fluttered her eyelashes, as if inquiring into a
discreet matter at a party or a dance.
         “It’s damn true!” Alan said.  “My dick can hurt if it gets
really hard, and needs sex really badly.  And it’s hurting like that
right now!  That’s why I want some wine.”  He reached for the bottle in
David’s hand.
         “My penis obviously feels stressed and pained too,” David said
quietly, moving his hand away from Alan’s reaching grasp.
         “Which is exactly the point I want to make to you young
ladies,” Helene said.  “We really need to understand how awful it can
feel to be a man and to be plagued with a rampant erection, like these
two men have.”
         “What do you propose?” my auntie asked, rubbing her cunt softly
with her fingers.  I had my hand on my pussy too and I felt a mixture of
excitement and worry.
         “Yes?  What?” Audrey asked.  She played her fingers within her
cunt, as if afraid, if she didn’t, someone might stuff something up her
to prove some mad point to her.
         “I’m going to use a cat o’ nine tails on all three of you
girls, right on your pussies,” Helene said.  “Chloe’s had a taste of it,
but she’ll get more, and you will too, Rebecca, and Audrey.  When your
cunts are stinging, then you’ll understand, just a little, what it feels
like to be a man with his big penis vexing him.”
         “No!” I yelled, as did my aunt, and Audrey.  We cupped our
dells fearfully.  David and Alan laughed.
         “They’ll open more freely if they know how much it hurts to be
a man,” Alan said.  “I remember when I was in the army.  Damn!  We
weren’t allowed to have girlfriends, in boot camp, and boy did my dick
hurt at night, sticking up so hard under the covers.  One night the
sargent came in and...”
         “Helene!  You can’t!” my aunt said, finding her voice.
         “Just a little, dear, right on your pretty pussies, to teach
you three girls a lesson!” Helene said.
         “But I don’t need to be taught a lesson!” Audrey said.  Her
eyes brimmed with tears.  I felt my own eyes wetten.  My vision
blurred.  Oh, how could Helene even think of torturing my poor pussy
again!
         “Yes, I agree,” David said, surveying us girls.  “They should
have their cunts scorched a little.  How many guys do they spurn every
day, when they’re out shopping?  Why, I’ll bet some guys have gotten
hernias whacking off over these three babes.  You know, the poor bloke
sees them, but they don’t care, oh no, not these three.  They’re too
pretty to care.  And so the guy winds up whacking his wiener until he
needs some doctor to sew it back on for him.”
         “That’s what my sergeant did!” Alan said.  “He told me, ‘Son,
if you think ‘lights out’ means ‘hard on,’ you need some serious
instruction.’  He yanked down my covers and wouldn’t you know, stupid
me, I had taken my pajama pants off, to give my dick some room.  He
grabbed me by it and ordered me to do sit-ups, right there in the bed. 
Do you think that would be, like, sexual harassment?”
         “I have no idea,” David said.
         I had even less of an idea, and barely heard him, as I
contemplated what Helene had in store for me, my aunt, and Audrey.  And
to think David approved!  David, who all three of us girls were longing
for, accusing us of making men whack off?!  By simply going shopping?! 
How could it be our fault if some dweeb somewhere got a hernia jerking
off over us?  And besides, I was only 13.  Men weren’t supposed to
notice me anyway.
         “Oh, auntie!  Save me!” I told Rebecca.  Fretfully I massaged
my cunt.
         “I want to but...” my aunt answered.  A quick glance of her
eyes at David’s penis told me everything.  She wanted to, she cared
about me, and herself too, but she was totally in love with David and
his penis.  If he wished to see her tormented a little, with a cat o’
nine tails, she would oblige him.  Whatever he wanted, he could have. 
It was because her deepest desire was in fact to be wanted by him.  The
want of David, for her, forced her to obey.  She could no more disobey
him than she could save me, and I was too much in love with David and
his spectacular equipment to disobey either, even though I knew it was
bad.  I felt my pussy wetten my fingers and knew I was doomed.
         “Oh!  Oh!  Alan, I hate you, but I love you too!” Audrey
blathered.  She swooned.  David caught her, gracefully, as she toppled
from the bench.  He looked like Superman catching Lois Lane.  I wished I
could faint too but my mind remained stubbornly, hungrily awake.
         “Stand up,” David said.  He held Audrey in his arms and
addressed himself to me and my aunt.  Rebecca stood, unsteadily,
thinking, I believe, that she’d faint, but not doing it.  I stood up
too.  “Now go to the wall,” David said.  He pointed.  I turned, as did
my aunt.  Before us, against the back wall, were manacles.  Each was
placed in an X, to bind hands and feet, just like the X upstairs in the
bathroom! 
         The basement loomed around us.  I looked at the bench where I’d
been forced to lie on my tummy, on my previous visit to Helene’s.  It
was still there, waiting, looking soothing, like a nice place to relax,
until you saw the chains attached to it.  I turned my head away.  But
there were other things, equally frightening.  I gaped at the horrid
devices Helene had collected:  whips, long cords that were used for
tying limbs, collars, fake penises.  They came from different parts of
the world.  She was quite proud of them.  They hung on the wall, like
ornaments in an art museum, but I knew from bitter experience that they
were useful for more than just decoration.
         My aunt and I crossed the room.  We walked barefoot,
bare-legged, our hips swinging sexily, our hair, freed from the pony
tails, swishing innocently along our backs.  Our bosoms juddered.  Their
nipples stemmed.  I wondered if we’d be forced to wear scissors upon our
tits again.  I clapped my hands to my breasts.  Then, fearing David
might smack me to make me walk faster, I put my hands over the cheeks of
my bottom.
         Oh, I was so scared!  I felt a flight of butterflies swirling
around in my tummy.  But what could I do?  My pussy was hot; wet.  My
hips squirmed as I walked.  I held the cheeks of my ass, frightened that
they would be struck, yet knowing that it was my pussy, not my bottom,
that was in danger this time.  Yet I couldn’t cover all the important
parts of myself.  Oh, what to do?  What to do?
         “I saw an eight-year-old girl today,” David told Alan.  “Nice
ass, exquisitely narrow waist.  Really long hair, hanging down over her
butt.”
         “It looks like little Chloe here wishes she had longer hair,”
Alan smirked.
         “Yes, but then I’d cut it, if she did, so I could see her
perfect ass,” David said.
         “I’ll bet that eight-year-old girl makes men jack off too,”
Alan mused.
         “You bet.  Girls that age have no respect at all for men’s
needs, nowadays,” David agreed.
         “Oh, you men are AWFUL!” my auntie cried out.  She clapped her
hands to her own bottom as she walked.  “You’re just saying those things
to upset us!” she said, still walking, not turning around to face them,
too frightened to contradict them in any way.
         “We’re men,” David said.  “If we see a girl with a good figure,
it doesn’t matter what age she is.”
         “I’m going to tell the National Squire you said that,” I
blurted.  But I didn’t turn around either.  I knew David would have no
problem at all about giving me a solid whack on my ass if he thought I
needed it.  
         We reached the wall.  I turned.  I settled my back against it. 
It felt cold.  The artificial hump that had been built into it, where my
hips rested, pushed against my bottom.  It forced me to offer my hips. 
I opened my legs.  Bravely I lifted my arms.  I felt for the manacles,
but I didn’t put my arms into them.  Instead, submissively, I looked up
at David.
         “Yes,” David said.  He gazed down at me.  His eyes showed love,
and admiration.  “You chose the right one, Chloe.  That X was made for
you.  It’s just your size,” David said.  His voice was low and soft.  I
felt a thrill, seeing him standing over me like that, savoring me.
         “You knew all along, didn’t you?” I asked him.  I pouted.  I
knew I looked sweet in my pouting.  My voice accused.  He was still
holding Audrey.  He grinned at me.  Alan stepped up beside him.  He
passed the nude girl to her naked husband.
         “I noticed your size when I first saw you, and realized why the
X in the bathroom was shorter than I it might have been,” David said. 
“But Helene has other visitors.  I thought perhaps it was intended for
some other girl.”
         “Are you going to buckle me into this one?” I asked him.  I
stood with my arms uplifted, my legs apart.  My eyes challenged.  I felt
the freedom of my limbs, so wonderful, soon to be taken away.  My blood
coursed through me, hotly.
         “Yes,” David said.  “I’m going to lock you into those manacles
and then I’m going to enjoy very much tormenting your pussy.”
         I sighed.  I felt like the eight-year-old girl he claimed to
have seen earlier in the day.  So little, so small, so delicate.  And to
think:  I was only a few years older!  My eyes dared him.  My upturned
face challenged him to admit what he had planned for me was wrong.  I
sighed again.  And then, perhaps to tease him to the point of no return,
I said, with a thankful note in my voice, “At least you won’t put a butt
plug up me this time.”  I felt a thrill accusing him, sassing him,
teasing him.  Yet it was so terrifying, too, having such a big man
towering over me!
         “In that, I’m afraid, you’re wrong,” David said.  “I need you
to turn around, and to stand away from the wall, and to bend over for
me.  I do indeed have something that needs to go up your ass.”
         “What?” I asked.  My eyes gaped.  I looked at his hands.  They
were empty.  Then, staring at his penis, I said, in a shrill, high
voice, “You’re going to sodomize me?”
         “Not quite,” David said.  “At least, not with my dick.”  He
reached up.  To my great surprise, I saw a shelf above my head.  It was
up high, higher than I could have reached.  I had not noticed it, being
fixated on the manacles hung like an X, with the hump, built into the
wall.  As I stared, open-mouthed, with my hands still upraised and my
feet splayed, David took down a small box.  A cord ran out from it.  At
the end of the cord was a rather large egg.  In addition to the egg,
connected to the box, David took down a tube of lubricant.
         “What’s that?” I said, staring at the egg.  I let my hands drop
to my sides.
         “This, I’m afraid, is a battery-powered, egg-shaped dildo, and
it’s going to go up your pretty 13-year-old bottom,” David told me.
         “You’re insane,” I said.
         “Your butthole, please,” David told me.  “Turn around and bend
over and show me your ass.”
         “No!” a voice cried.  At first I thought it was me.  Then I
realized it was my aunt.  She was being accosted by Helene who, like
David, had just fetched a battery-powered egg from an overhead shelf. 
In Helene’s case, she had to stand on a small stool to reach the shelf,
but the sight of the egg now frightened my aunt just as much as it
frightened me.
         “Oook!” A voice to my right exclaimed.  Both my aunt and I
turned our heads to see Audrey, already bent over, receiving an egg up
her rectum, courtesy of her husband.
         “Oh, not for Chloe, please!” my aunt begged, as Helene gripped
her arm firmly and made her turn around.
         “Bend over, dear.  David is a true gentleman and will see that
your niece isn’t hurt,” Helene told my aunt.  “As for you, I’m a woman,
so you can rest assured that I know what to do with another woman’s
bottom.”
         “Oh!  This is horrible!” my aunt cried.  But perhaps because of
the wine, she let herself be bent double, by Helene’s coaxing hands. 
Then, with her bottom well-presented, Helene greased the egg and
inserted it into her ass.
         “I CAN’T!” I shouted, but David handled me with the same
implacable resolve that Helene displayed with my aunt.  His large hands
were firm, certain, demanding.  He pulled me away from the wall.  He
turned me around.  He made me offer my backside to him.  My bosoms
dangled beneath me.  He nudged apart my thighs with his knee.  Then, as
I waited, trembling, holding apart the cheeks of my ass as he insisted I
must, David lubricated the egg.
         “This won’t hurt... too much,” David assured me, but I could
already hear my aunt shouting as the egg cleaved her own peach.
         “OH, NO!  It’s travelling up me!” my aunt shrieked.
         “Yes, dear, your bottom is a natural vacuum, and the egg is
well greased,” Helene said.  “Naturally it will slide up.  But would you
rather I used no lubricant at all, and had a much harder time getting it
in?  I think not.  Relax and let the egg find a natural resting place. 
Then we’ll have you stand up and be fixed to the wall.”
         “Oh!  Stop!” I cried to David.  I looked between my legs, over
the tips of my rosy breasts, at his feet.  At the same time I kept my
hands on my ass, pulling my cheeks apart for him.  I wished, foolishly,
to obey him in every way, yet to convince him to spare me.  He didn’t. 
With a quick laugh, he prised my hind cheeks open as wide as he could. 
Then he pressed the tip of the cold, greasy egg to my anus.  “David!” I
shrieked.  An instant later I felt my rosette forced open to admit the
egg.  First the very end of it, then its wider middle, nearly splitting
me and forcing a shout from my frightened lungs.  Lastly the back of the
egg slipped up within me, followed by the long cord.  
         Up, up, up the egg went.  I felt like I was pooping in
reverse.  I shouted in dismay.  David laughed.  The egg ceased finally
to slide up me.  David told me to stand erect.
         Oh, how silly we looked!  From each of our bottoms, mine, my
aunt’s, and Audrey’s, a long tail extended.  It was the cord connecting
the egg to the box which controlled it.  How awful I felt with my ass
plugged by the egg, and, worse, a cord sticking out of my butt, which
attached to a box that David held in his hands!
         “Now spread your arms and legs and back up against the wall,”
David told me.  His voice was gentle but his gaze was demanding. 
Fearfully, afraid of causing internal damage to myself, I backed up
against the cold wall.  I was too scared to lift my arms.  David lifted
them for me, one by one.  He locked my hands into the manacles in the
wall.  Then he spread my feet and fastened each of them, so that I stood
against the wall in a bold V.  The hump built into the wall pressed hard
and cold against my ass, making me feel the egg in my rectum more fully,
forcing me to make a lewd display of my pretty, furred cunt.
         “Very good,” David said.  “Now I’ll whip that tight little
pussy of yours, while the egg in your ass causes you to feel the most
strange vibrations where the sun never shines.”
         “OHHHooooooooo!” I heard, next to me, as Alan started up the
egg in his wife’s derriere.  
         “YoHOOOOOOOoooo!” I shouted, as David switched on the egg in my
ass.
         “Oh, God, Helene, NOOOoooooooo!” my aunt screeched.  We were
like three angels, caught by devils, pinned to the wall, and torturously
plugged in our bottoms.
         “They should have done this to the slackers at boot camp,” Alan
said, admiring his wife’s distress.  My aunt, Audrey, and I howled at
the top of our lungs.  Unfortunately, being down in the basement, only
the two men and Helene could hear us.  They congratulated each other and
said they found the sound of our torment pleasing.