Slow Tease, Sweet RevengeChapter 13
Marie and I laid on either side of our hairless victim and delicately traced our fingertips over his skin. Goosebumps rose on Bob's flesh as he squirmed and moaned. I pinched and rubbed Bob's hard little nipples and blew air over his sensitive armpits. Marie planted little baby kisses up and down Bob's bare legs. I cupped Bob's hairless balls in my hand and softly rubbed his sack as if I were polishing a brass doorknob. I blew air into his ear and gently ran my thumb and forefinger up and down his shaft. Bob weakly whimpered.
I whispered, "Suffer". Marie briskly flicked the tip of Bob's aching cock with her tongue and stood up. "Shall I fetch our brushes?", she asked. I smiled and purred, "Mmmm, yes. That would be wonderful!" Marie walked over to my bag and returned with a handful of paintbrushes and some watercolors. I took a few brushes and paints and placed them on the nightstand on my side of the bed. After arranging the paints in an orderly fashion, I dipped a tiny brush in blue and held it over Bob's face. "I'm going have to pretty you up a little", I said. Then, I gingerly painted a blue teardrop on Bobby's left cheek.
I smiled. "Aww, look Marie. The sad clown." Marie looked at his face and giggled. "The little fool", she said, before returning to her art supplies. I painted another fat blue teardrop under the first, followed by three more, until there was a stream of five down to his chin. I painted a few more, below his chin and then down his neck - down his chest to just above his left nipple. Marie painted a matching stream down the right side of Bob's face with green paint. I watched as she selected a wider brush and dipped it in red paint. She took it and began to paint a slow circle over Bob's right nipple. Observing Bob's roused reaction, I carefully set down my small brush and dipped a larger one in orange paint, swirling it over Bob's left nipple.
We both followed an identical pattern, selecting a new color occasionally and painting two multicolored bull's eyes around Bob's nipples. The caress of the soft, wet bristles was driving him crazy by the second. "I think he's enjoying this too much", said Marie. I agreed. "That can be taken care of", I said, fetching my evil bag of tricks and dragging it closer to the bed. I fished through it until I finally found the nipple clamps I had brought. I tossed one over the bed to Marie. She turned the nipple clamp in her fingers, inspecting it closely. "Delightful", she said and, smiling into Bob's face, rubbed the wicked little thing over his painted right nipple.
Bob looked up at Marie, weakly shaking his head. Marie whispered, "Yessss", and opened and closed the clip on its bull's eye. Bob's body tensed as he held back a scream. "Look at these washboard abs", I said, running my fingers over the hard ripples that formed on Bob's tummy as he cringed against the stinging pain of the clamp. Marie just continued to smile and to look deeply into Bob's eyes. I took the clamp I was holding and rubbed the smooth metal along the shaft of his cock. I let it glide over his balls and behind them, then around the side of his apparatus... where pubic hair used to be... and up the side of his body. I waited until Bob's gaze moved from Marie's eyes to mine before smiling at him and saying, "C'mon baby... scream for me". I closed the clip on Bob's left nipple and slowly began to twist. Again he tensed as he tried to hold back a scream, but I just continued to twist the clip until he finally couldn't bear it any more. I laughed at Bob's anguished cry and let the clamp spring back into place.
I high-fived Marie and we went back to our artwork. Before long, Bob was covered from head to toe in watercolors. Marie and I had him looking like a freak! On some parts of his body we painted little scenes of women dominating men while on most we just painted intricate patterns or patchworks of color. On his forehead, I painted "LOSER" in black. We weren't done, though. I took out my thinnest paintbrush and went to work on Bob's cock, painting stripes up and down his shaft and a little sad face on the head. As I painted Bob's genitals, Marie placed a chair in the center of the floor. She rustled through my bag and produced a red, metal hook. She looked so hot when she stood naked on the chair... like a Goddess. As I painted the words "PAIN" and "REVENGE" on each of Bob's balls, Marie screwed the hook up into the ceiling. When she was done, we relocated our prisoner from the bed to the hook, where we strung him up by his bound wrists.
Finishing up our artwork, we painted Bob's back and buns. Marie and I spent the next few minutes walking around and around Bob, inspecting our work. We were laughing our asses off! We adopted very blue- blooded accents and pretended to be discussing a great work of art. At times we would closely inspect some of the more humiliating pieces of the work, like the arrow on his belly labelled "Girl Toy" that pointed at his cock... and we would taunt him right to his reddening face, savoring his humiliation. When we were through, I gave Bob's nipple clamps another twist until he begged me to stop.
Then Marie and I gathered up various objects - rolled up socks, empty plastic cups, a tennis ball - and had target practice, aiming for those painful little nipple clamps from across the room. Each time we hit our target we were rewarded with a yelp or a grunt or a beseeching "Pleeeease!!!". We kept up the game for a VERY long time... until the tears that we had painted on Bob's face were washed away by the real thing!
Chapter 14
Bob had become visibly weakened. He could hardly focus his eyes now - except when one of us would stand before him... posing... making him drool. His breath became short, punctuated with a weak little groan on almost every exhale. And we could bring tears to his eyes just by whispering something into his ear - it was hard to tell if it was the sound of our voices, what we said, or merely the scent of our bodies that caused him to weep so miserably. Every now and then Bob would surprise us with a burst of choking sobs - imploring us to end his ordeal. He would plead, over and over, with tears streaming down his pathetically grimacing face... until he would tire, his head dropping forward in complete despair.
So, there Bob dangled - his arms above his head and his body covered with absurd painted designs. A broken freak - writhing and whimpering in agony. Not bad for a few days work! I was feeling quite vindicated. And it had become easy at this point - Marie and I hardly felt the need to do anything to Bob any more. We could just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show - sipping cool drinks and laughing at him as he begged to be set free - as he begged us to let him cum. But the week was quickly drawing to a close, and we now had to face our dilemma: What were we going to do with him?
Marie was out shopping for some food and beach stuff while I laid in the hammock outside the bungalow, ruminating on my choices. Murder was certainly out of the question - although I certainly wouldn't mind watching Bob drown - or die, tied to a stake on the beach with a canteen of water just out of his reach. The last image made me laugh out loud... but I was beginning to feel the original sense of worry that hit me when I first realized that neither Marie nor I had even considered closure when we planned this little adventure. The other extreme was setting Bob free, but that seemed just as ridiculous - if not more so - than killing him. What then? I sighed with frustration... there didn't seem to be any feasible ending to this.
Keeping him as a slave forever? No. Not only was that unrealistic - but I couldn't imagine having Bob around FOREVER - not to mention that he would probably either grow to enjoy his ordeal, or he'd escape and have Marie and I put away for life. And now I was really beginning to worry. I got up from the hammock and began to pace in the sand. We could get in so much fucking trouble for what we've done. I mean - we hadn't seriously injured Bob, nor did we demand ransom for his sorry ass - but we had kidnapped him. Of course, I'm sure there are plenty of folks who get themselves into even stranger looking situations consensually, and besides, who on earth would believe Bob's claim that he was tied up in a bungalow on the beach by two beautiful women AGAINST his will? But that STILL didn't solve the problem of Bob coming around to harm us in the future.
I kicked the sand in exasperation. What the hell could we do? Just then Marie pulled up in Bob's Porsche. She smiled as I came around to help her with the groceries. As I took two bags from the trunk of Bob's car, I saw his bag sitting there. I said to Marie, "Do you realize that Bob's been here for half a week and he hasn't even unpacked yet?". She laughed. Just before Marie closed the truck I said, "Wait". I reached in and grabbed Bob's bag and tossed it on the ground. "I think it might be fun to go through his belongings while he watched, don't you?" Marie laughed. "Yet another form of psychological violation. And what made me think you needed MY coaching?"
We brought everything inside. Marie walked up to where Bob wilted from the ceiling and sized him up, concluding happily, "This is better. Now we're not so bold." Bob's eyes remained fixed on the ground. But I could see his cock beginning to grow in response to the taunt. I dropped the bag at Bob's feet. "Let's see what you packed, shall we?" His eyes weekly looked down as I knelt to unzip it... they stared devoid of resistance... absolutely submissive. At the top of the bag was a bright red bathing suit. I smiled up into his face. "Going swimming Bob?" Laughing wryly I tossed it aside and reached for the next item. "Sunscreen, huh?" I laughed again and tossed the bottle to Marie. "Here Marie... you and I can use this while Bob sweats it out in here all afternoon." I smiled wider, watching the mist begin to accumulate in his humiliated eyes. I dug through the rest of Bob's bag, mocking him about every article of clothing he would not be using on this trip... his khaki shorts, his white cotton slacks, his muscle shirts ("Planning on turning us on Bobby?"), and his assortment of boxers. I tossed a pair that had a particularly garish paisley pattern to Marie. "Care to try these on?"
Snickering, she slid out of her bathing suit bottom and put Bob's boxer shorts on. Marie paraded around in her bikini top and Bob's boxers. "Doesn't she look cute Bobby?", I asked. "Did you ever have a girlfriend who wore your clothes around the house - you know - the morning AFTER? Try to remember what it was like... that sweet afterglow. Watching her move about knowing you just had her and that you'll have her again soon." Bob's eyes followed Marie as she skipped around, laughing. "But then you haven't had Marie, have you? How many days has it been baby... have you lost count?" I paused for dramatic effect. "Have you ever wanted it this bad? Did you ever imagine that you could?" Bob looked down at me... face red... wincing. "STOP IT!!" I looked back and softly said "Nooo", forming a perfect circle with my lips and savoring the sensual sound of my voice. Bob's cock was at full mast and it pulsed madly. I still got off on the sheer power of having his lust completely in my control - watching his powerful body tense and quake just at the sweet sound of my voice, the soft caress of my hand. To this day I am convinced that there is no better way for a woman to torture a man.
Chapter 15
Marie slid up beside Bob and pressed her crotch against his hip. He groaned with each breath, feeling the hot dampness of her pussy - the hottest, tightest pussy that he would NEVER have - through the boxer shorts that she wore. She ran her long, red fingernails up and down his chest with one hand and over his bare ass with the other. Marie extended her neck and ran her tongue around inside Bob's ear. He squirmed and bucked under her sensual touch, fucking the air as he hung helpless from the ceiling. I stood before him, watching, and slipping out of my bikini. I walked to his other side and pressed my pussy against his other hip. I held my smooth body against him... rubbing my bare breasts up and down the side of his body. Bob grit his teeth as his desire for us consumed his body and soul. I could hear Marie moaning into Bob's ear and from the force of his hip against my crotch, I realized that she was humping him hard. So I ground my wet snatch into Bob's side and fucked Marie through our agonized middle man.
I ran my hands all over Bob's body until I found Marie's. We clasped our hands together and squeezed ourselves tight against him... spreading our legs and humping his tortured body. I licked the tears from his face - a taste I had grown to love - as I felt my hot orgasm coming on like a freight train... until crying out in his ear I came incredibly, scratching my fingernails hard down chest and back. I held myself against him, feeling my flow run out of my pussy and down his leg, and listening to Marie as she continued to hump him... a little slower than before... running her fingers through his hair and biting his neck. I slid an index finger into my snatch and snaked it into Bob's mouth. He sobbed as he tasted me.
Marie's body grew rigid - "The way you cry turns me on baby", she said breathlessly, her sexy body hard against him. I felt myself cum again and it felt like the floodgates had opened as I peed all over Bob's leg. Marie began to let out a series of short high pitched moans which grew deeper and louder as ecstasy enveloped her. As we both moaned and purred Bob emitted a howl of unprecedented volume... a wordless shriek that sounded like his body was being crushed. After a minute or two we finally both stepped away from him and stood before him, holding hands. Bob's body twitched and convulsed - his eyes focused somewhere far off in the distance.
I wrapped my arms around Marie and she around me and we kissed for a long while... basking in each other's touch before our pitiful, broken man. It seemed that if we kept this up much longer, we could easily kill Bob this way. The thought of his mounting anguish set me on fire as I pulled Marie to the floor right there and sunk my face between her long, luscious legs. We had a deliciously sexy time... luxuriating and making love on the pile of Bob's clothes which we had pulled from his suitcase. And Bob wept and moaned the entire time.
That evening Marie and I took Bob's Porsche into town and went to a sushi bar. It was time to seriously discuss how to end this little vacation. We sat together in a cozy private booth, loaded up on the rice wine, and brainstormed. In no time at all, we had come up with the perfect plan. We were almost embarrassed by its simplicity and by the fact that it hadn't occurred to us instantly. Maybe it took some good sake to clear our heads. The reason didn't matter, however... we finally had our scheme, and if we executed it with precision... Bob would never lay a hand on us - or any other woman - ever again.