 |
|||
|
|
CHAPTER NINETEEN—REVELATIONS
“I thought perhaps you’d decided not to come,” the Princess said with a smile.
She stood before the arching doorway leading into the gathering room where the party was just beginning. A dozen people were visible inside the room, mostly crowded around the buffet table. Most seemed to be middleaged women, influential people or faint offshoots of the bloodline. They all wore robes, brightly colored, and were in a festive mood.
“I was . . . delayed,” S’Leah told her. The aide stood at her elbow, in nothing but his high heels and gag, cocked stuffed back into his bag, which was still somewhat stretched out. S’Leah turned to glance at the aide.
“Seeing your aide was a surprise,” she told the Princess. “Totally unexpected, I’m sure you’d agree, seeing as I’d already had her. Him.” S’Leah shook her head.
“I bought Kyuri when he was just a little boy,” the Princess said with a smile. “Some barbarians had him, I know not where they found him, but I was able to get him for a very low price. He was very disagreeable at first, rambunctious, mouthy.” She smiled at the aide. “I was studying near the palace then, barely a woman myself, and went to those I thought could help. The gene-weavers made for me elixirs which were to soothe him, and I combined them with what physical reinforcement and behavior training I thought was appropriate. The result that you see was not what I intended. There was no problem with my methods. The problem was with the elixirs. By the time Kyuri was old enough to grow hair on his parts he was growing breasts, and acted more like a woman than some that are. He never did grow hair. Although it wasn’t what I intended, it pleases me to see him so, and so I had his stones removed to make sure he wouldn’t change. Most who have spent time in him, as you, never know his true self, and that to me is delicious.”
“Delicious,” S’Leah repeated.
“As for him, he is never happier than when he is being mounted or beaten, so we are all happy. That bag of his is truly remarkable. You would be amazed how much it will stretch if you fill it with weights. Can you believe I once fit both my fists inside it? It took quite a bit of work, though, and wasn’t nearly so attractive as it is when it is so tiny. But come, come inside, most have arrived, and I wish to show you around.”
“I still do not know what a wetwall is,” S’leah said.
“I will show you.”
The Princess led S’Leah in and introduced her to most of the crowd. She automatically indexed their names and faces, even though most of them were unimportant business owners of the territory. Most had the thickness of middle years, the women big busted, the few men with bulging stomachs.
Kyuri wasn’t the only nude toy in the room. The guests were attended by half a dozen pretty young women, blondes and redheads, dressed in nothing but black leathyr pumps with heels so tall they looked like stilts. All were clan property, and had been sewn up since infancy. Their outer labia had been drawn together and sewn tight, enclosing their clitorises and sealing off all of their channel but for a tiny opening barely big enough for a finger. The seam on some wasn’t even visible. S’Leah had heard the women of this clan masturbated by slapping their smooth mounds, and thus stimulating their flesh-bound clitorises underneath, but had yet to witness it herself. All women of Clan Infibula were presumed to be anal devotees.
Scattered about the room were fifteen or so freestanding wall sections, about four feet wide, reaching from floor to ceiling. S’Leah stared at them, realizing the party was named after them.
The Princess led her over to the nearest wetwall and let her look it over. In the center of it, waist high, was a woman.
It looked as if the wall had been built up around her. She lay on her back, her center of gravity balanced above the six-inch-thick wall. Her legs were pulled all the way back, so that her knees were on either side of her chest, and her lower legs pointed straight upwards. So it was that on one side of the wall all S’Leah could see was the woman’s bottom half: her bottom, arching upward slightly, and the tops of her thighs bent forcibly back, making her sex bulge out aggressively. The wall began just above her navel. On the other side the woman’s upper body was sunk in the wall up to her breasts. Her arms were spread out parallel to the floor, wrists locked to the wall, as were her ankles above her, her calves against the wall. She wore a leathyr collar, and a cord ran from the front of the collar to a ring on the wall between her ankles, to help support her head.
“Ingenious, isn’t it?” the Princess said. “The walls come apart in the middle, top and bottom. They just climb in, get their center over the wall—which is padded—and get locked in. Of course, you need them properly flexible first. These are not clan women, you can see as they are unsewn, but we train them properly for this and other occasions.” She grabbed the edge of the wall and pulled. It turned, and instead of her head S’Leah was once more looking at the occupant’s sex. With her knees pulled back to her chest, the woman’s two orifices were the most prominent feature of the side of the wall. S’Leah’s eyes were drawn to her crimson, bulging flesh, which appeared already greased for action.
The Princess spun the wall again and S’Leah found herself looking down into the woman’s face. She was blindfolded with leathyr goggles, and fitted with a wide hard rubber ring gag that kept her jaws apart and yet afforded any passers-by the use of her.
“Of the fourteen, three are men,” the Princess informed her, pointing one out. All S’Leah saw was a slightly hairy backside, muscular, with matching thighs. His hole was a dark shadow; his cock and balls, kept turgid by a chromed cock ring, lay along his stomach. “You can bend his tool down and sit on it facing away from the wall,” she told S’Leah. “They’re just the right height. That’s fourteen bodies, which makes twenty-eight walls. And thirty nine holes,” she added with a smile.
S’Leah moved back to the food tables and ate. The party guests were loud and familiar with each other for the most part, and Kyuri saw regular use. S’Leah was polite and responded to questions, but kept to herself.
After a while the guests shed whatever clothes they still wore and got down to serious play. By ones and twos they wandered over to the wetwalls scattered throughout the center of the room and began playing. The clan toys seemed to be treated as nothing more than mobile rectums, and not especially tight ones at that.
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself,” the Princess said to her, walking up. She had lost her robe, and sported a very large strap-on rubber phallus.
“I’m just slow to warm up to strangers,” S’Leah explained.
“Well, if you disrobed, and displayed your charms, most of these women would waste no time warming up to you,’ the Princess told her. “But come, let me show you something.”
Kyuri appeared at her elbow as the Princess led S’Leah across the room. A small group of guests clustered around a wetwall. S’Leah saw the woman encased in the wall was the same blonde the Princess had transported in the trunk atop the carriage. Her jaws were cracked far apart by a stiff rubber ring gag, but her eyes were uncovered, and they glared furiously at the crowd around her. She was yelling at them, or cursing, but the gag keeping her jaws apart turned everything into unrecognizable garble. She tugged at her wrists fiercely, but they were securely locked down to the wall. Her skin was scored red from her struggles.
“Look how angry she is,’ one of the guests said with a giggle.
“That’s because she was just captured,” another woman said. “She hasn’t grown to love the bit yet.”
“Look at that spirit. I don’t know if she can be broken,” said the man next to S’Leah.
“Anyone can be broken,” the Princess said. “It just takes time and determination.” She nudged S’Leah, and nodded at the captive, who was struggling again. Surrounded by nude bodies, she knew what was in store for her. “Use her mouth,” the Princess said. It was obvious that the idea excited her.
S’Leah undid the belt of her robe and shrugged it off. As it fell to the floor the blonde noticed her, then did a doubletake as she saw S’Leah’s rising organ. Her eyes went wide, and flew up to meet S’Leah’s.
Grudgingly, S’Leah moved above the woman’s head as the crowd egged her on. The short-haired woman tried to turn her head and look at her, but the line attached to her collar limited her mobility.
The opening in the ring gag was more than big enough, and the inside of her mouth was red and glistening. Taking a breath, S’Leah grabbed a fistful of the woman’s hair and bent her head back down toward the floor. Her slender neck became a straight line ending in her open mouth, aimed directly at S’Leah. She slid her cock deep into the woman’s mouth, then let go of her hair.
Immediately the woman began thrashing her head around, trying to pull away from S’Leah’s cock, but she couldn’t move much more than an inch in any direction. S’Leah felt the ring flex as the woman bit down as hard as she could, to no avail. Her head was impaled on S’Leah’s shaft, and she couldn’t move enough to pull away.
S’Leah stroked her throat, and upper arms, before beginning her gentle thrusts. She began playing with the blonde’s breasts, squeezing and kneading. The blonde’s hands were thrashing claws against the wall as she fought to get free. Even as she gagged and coughed and slurped she bellowed outrage at her treatment. The crowd hooted and hollered.
The Princess moved around to the other side of the wall, out of S’Leah’s sight. Suddenly the blonde stiffened and cried out. S’Leah felt her body begin shuddering as if she was being struck by a heavy hammer and knew the Princess was at work with her strap-on on the other side of the wall.
S’Leah climaxed as soon as she could, with little joy, and pulled out of the woman’s mouth. The captive barely had time to catch her breath, sobbing and shaking from the pounding the Princess was still giving her, before a male guest fed his soft fat organ into her mouth. Her cries of protest were muffled as he began ramming his quivering bulk against her face and mauling her breasts. The party began in earnest then, and S’Leah spent most of the evening demonstrating her unique attributes to the Princess’ female guests, much to their delight.
The Princess took her big rubber strap-on to most of the wall-bound bodies in the room, male and female alike, working it with the skill of one born to the equipment. The blonde captive saw quite a bit of rough treatment from the Princess’s guests—the males spent most of their time in her mouth, while the females used fingers and pieces of food on her other end. Even Kyuri took his turn in her, although his tool was so small it was doubtful that she much noticed. The wall section that saw the most visitors, however, was the one which housed a male everyone called Ox. S’Leah gathered that he was a bit of a local legend. Huge by any standard, his wide, muscular body drew the princess’ female guests like flowers drew bees. They’d alternate sitting on his thick cock with its many piercings with abusing his hole with fingers, hands, or whatever toys happened to be within reach. His wide hips and years of having ever-larger objects rammed into him contributed to his well-deserved notoriety. Nearly every female guest there took the opportunity to see what it felt like to put their whole hand inside a man, but it wasn’t until Amanda Smith of Smith Mercantile began playing with him that things got interesting. She was a giant woman; not tall, but hugely fat, with a great round head and a body that looked like it had been inflated with a high pressure air hose. Her fat fingers were like sausages, her fists like the heads of babies. Her hand alone would have gotten Ox’s attention, but this was her first invitation to one of the Lady Sucette’s parties, and she wanted to make an impression, so she’d be invited back. So she greased her arm up to the elbow and worked at Ox like a miner.
Her forearm was swollen as large as a man’s calf. Smith never touched his organ, but her twisting fist and fat trunk of a forearm had Ox twitching and sweating and spraying all over his own stomach. By the time she’d wormed it all the way into him, nearly to her elbow, occasionally slapping his large balls with her free hand, Ox had come three times all over himself.
“I think your fist is on the other side of the wall,” the Princess had laughed. The Princess got so aroused by the show that when the huge woman finally withdrew her arm from Ox the Princess immediately pulled her to the ground and went wild with her strap-on. Half the onlookers watched them, the other stared in wonder at the gaping tunnel in Ox as it slowly collapsed. Ms. Smith would very definitely be invited to the next party.
Several hours after
S’Leah found herself the last to leave, alone with the Princess watching her people slide the last of the wetwalls to the clean-up room. Sucette had finally unbuckled her oversize phallus near the end of the night. Its straps left red stripes on her narrow hips.
“Where is she going?” S’Leah inquired, nodding at the blonde captive, still bent double inside her wetwall. Hers was the only wall left in the main room.
“Tonight? Well, tonight I’m going to let her hang there and drip dry. Tomorrow? Well, we’ll see.” Semen covered the blonde and dripped from all three of her holes, which were still stretched out.
The Princess stretched, arms straight out above her head, then reached between her thighs to finger herself. “I poked so many tonight that I never got around to getting poked,” she said, turning to S’Leah. “Are you too tired?”
“Never for you,” S’Leah told her.
“Come with me to my room,” the Princess said with an expectant smile. “I miss my silk sheets.”
The staff had begun mopping the pools of sweat and semen from the floors. The blonde captive appeared unconscious in her perch, but they ignored her. The Princess ordered them not to touch her, and then led S’Leah away.
It was but a short walk to her spacious quarters, nearly one half of the building’s third floor. S’Leah was dismayed to see the door to the Princess’ rooms flanked by massive guards. The two huge women nodded at her, and eyed S’Leah in her robe. Mostly they just watched her breasts bounce against the silk as she walked by, but still, their mere presence was a complication.
S’Leah followed the Princess striding unconcernedly nude through the hallways of the house into her quarters, hearing the guards close the double doors behind them. The thought came to her that the Princess’ slim hips and buttocks were more boyish than those of Kyuri. It brought a smile to her face.
S’Leah quickly scanned the big room for any statua, but they appeared to be alone. The Princess apparently preferred stone to flesh, as dozens of stone sculptures, from a few inches high to near life-size, dotted her sleeping quarters. The single figurines depicted unusual fetishettes, and were extraordinarily detailed. About a third of the artworks portrayed two or more figures engaged in carnal acts, and one breathtaking lifesize piece in the center of the room depicted lady Decisa, first Matriarch of Clan Ophidi, being embraced and penetrated by too many snakes to count.
The Princess led her to a massive bed, high up off the floor. S’Leah, erect again, dropped her robe and climbed up beside Sucette. They kissed passionately and fondled each other for a while, then S’leah laid back and the Princess climbed atop her face. S’Leah worried at the little nub between the Princess’ skinny thighs, and licked at the lipless crack below it. The Princess licked and sucked at S’Leah’s shaft, but had no skill. Soon she tired of it and climbed off, wanting to be poled.
“No, not yet,” S’Leah scolded her with a grin. “You come lay here, on your back, and lay your head over the edge. You should learn how to do this right. For me,” she urged.
Sucette was more than ready to be spitted, but she acquiesced and lay on her back with her head just over the edge of the mattress. The angle made her throat one long, straight tunnel.
“That’s it,” S’Leah said, moving in. “Now just suck for a while, while I move.” She slid her cock into the Princess’ inexperienced mouth. Nearly two thirds of the shaft disappeared between her lips before the Princess gagged a little and raised her hands to push S’Leah away.
S’Leah backed off slightly and pushed the hands down. “Just relax,” she told her. “I won’t hurt you. Just concentrate on breathing, and opening your throat.” She began sliding back and forth, gently, and laid her hands on either side of the Princess’ neck. Sucette diligently sucked, and tried to relax and breathe, as S’Leah slowly worked half her length back and forth in her mouth and the top part of her throat.
“Good, good,” S’Leah said, edging a bit deeper. “Just relax now, and concentrate.” She kept her hands on the Princess’ neck, and pressed her thumbs against her skin just above her collar bones. The Princess felt the pressure, but it didn’t distract her from the skill she was trying to master.
“Good, that’s good,” S’Leah said, pumping, pumping, edging ever deeper. “Envision your throat opening, a tunnel all the way into your chest.”
S’Leah’s voice grew softer, ever softer, until finally in mid-stroke the Princess’ head fell limp. S’Leah’s thumbs, gently pressing on her carotid arteries, had slowly robbed the Princess’ brain of blood, until finally she’d just passed out. If she let go, the Princess would regain consciousness in a few short minutes. If she kept the pressure on her thumbs, the Princess would die.
S’Leah looked down at the slack pale body, its ribs and hipbones in sharp detail, legs splayed out on the bed. She could feel her heart still pumping, lungs still working, breath cooling her organ as it hovered inside her slack mouth. Then S’Leah lifted her thumbs, and moved her hands to the Princess’ small breasts. They filled her palms comfortably as she pushed forward, sliding her entire length down the Princess’ throat.
Her balls rested against Sucette’s nose as she leaned forward, cock wedged tight inside her throat. S’Leah played with the Princess’ breasts, waiting. She studied the sculpture of Lady Decisa on the far side of the bed and tried to count the snakes. The number was twelve or thirteen, she’d finally decided, when the Princess bucked, as her body instinctively fought for air. She bit down once, but not hard enough to break the skin. S’Leah held on for two more thrashing seizures, forcing her cock hard down Sucette’s throat, then the Princess was still.
S’Leah counted to three hundred, then checked the Princess’ pulse. Nothing. Her heart had stopped with her lungs, and was now too far gone to save. She cupped the Princess’ small breasts again, then quickly finished herself off with a series of rapid thrusts, trying to imagine what so many snakes curling around and in her body would feel like. The Princess’ pale body jiggled on the crushed red velvet bedspread.
When she had finished, S’Leah quickly wrestled the body underneath the covers and positioned the Princess with her head on the pillows. Her eyes wouldn’t quite close, but from across the room she looked like she was sleeping.
S’Leah tucked in the skinny body, then went prowling around the adjoining rooms. After half an hour she had found nothing satisfactory. S’Leah sat on the edge of the bed and thought. There was no immediate need to hurry, but she couldn’t dawdle. She could get back to her room unmolested, but leaving the house at this hour would draw attention. Staying until morning, however, was not an option. The Princess’ body would be discovered, and even though there was no visible cause of death, the guards would remember her as the last to be with their Mistress.
After several minutes sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing, S’Leah realized she could hear, faintly, other noises in the big house. She cocked her head and listened for several minutes. Then she nodded, put the red robe back on, and strode to the door. The guards, for their part, pretended not to see her even as they ogled her firm cheeks all the way out of sight.
|
|
|