I marked out positions, decided just where and how I would squat there beside bet, and prepared to switch off the penlight.
But before I did I thrust the little thorn I held, needly and about an inch long, straight into the swollen white side of her firm left jug.
"aaaa-a-a-a-yyyya-a-a-a-ahhh!" she shrieked, coming violently awake to pain. By then the light was off and I knew she could see nothing. Nor could she do anything to assuage her pain, even if she were already certain of its cause and source. Her wrists were bound securely behind her. A cord across her body, just below her bosom, held her erect in the chair. A leather strap held her legs still, securing her ankles to the chair's bottom rung.
I caressed her unimpaled breast. I stroked it, squeezed it very gently, cupped it from beneath, bent forward to let her feel my warm breath on it.
She whimpered. Ropes and chair creaked as she tried to move. There was no place to go. She had no way of stopping me.
Squatting beside her chair, I held the squishy cream-filled melon firmly but not hurtingly, and I licked its top, again and again. It grew. She whimpered.
"No-o-o-o," she said, in a wavering little voice, and, "Unhunnnhhh… ahhhh…" Sighs of both outrage and… pleasure!
My tongue licked, tapped, and swirled over the tip of her trembling silken breast, and that tip grew. It mushroomed up and out, stiffening and seeking out my tongue until it was a hard-standing crest of desire. She moaned, quivering, and I wished that I were the sort of girl who really liked girls, that way. She was so soft and her, breasts so lovely and her voice so tiny. She was so helpless, so deliciously helpless! Best of all, she surely thought I was Erik or Miles!
Her nipples were now hard spires thrusting from her bosom, quivering with her trembling little gasps.
I licked the right one, sucked at the tip, and caressed it. Meanwhile the thorn remained sunken into the other big tit, and I knew she was intensely aware of it with every restless sway and tremble of the globe it pierced.
Carefully, resisting the impulse to ram a finger up into the damp softness of her, I tickled her clitoris. It became fat and quivery and juicy, immediately. She groaned and gasped.
"Ah-h-h-h-h… ah… ah… aahhhnnnhhh… ooohh… ummmmm…"
I twiddled her cut until I knew she was close to orgasm, then felt about on the floor until I found the other thorn. Working by feel, I rammed it into her right tit.
"Eeeeeyyyaaaahhhh… ah! Ah! O-o-o-o-oooh!"
Smiling in the dark, I kept one thumb against the end of that second thorn while I manipulated her clitoris. Her gasps and sighs went from pain to delight, grew impatient and urgent. Then she was grunting and hunching, tickling my fingers with the delicate little tendrils of hair framing her tight-lipped cunt.
The moment I was sure she had come I found the penlight on the floor beside her chair leg, where I had placed it. Then I rose and, left as silently as I had come.
Back in my own bed, I turned my fingers to my own damp clitoris, fondling and pinching my nipples until I, too, came. Then I went to sleep.
The next day, today, we left her down there all day, bound, without company or the sound of a voice, without food or drink or… any means of relieving her bodily urges. It's wicked, I think, and intensely cruel. We are about to go down, and I fully expect to find her a stinking mess.
ENTRY FORTY-FOUR
She is a miracle! I cannot believe her control! She must have been in agony, but she hadn't succumbed! Her panties were as dry as they'd been when we left her, bearing only one little stiff spot, where I made her come last night!
We untied her, fed her, gave her the wine with the powder in it, and showed her where the toilet was. She was so in need that she hurried in without a word or any semblance of pride or embarrassment. The powder worked very swiftly, more swiftly than even Erik expected, I think. After waiting a long while, we at last went to the rear of the dungeon and rounded the corner into the doorless cubicle containing a toilet and a sink.
She had slipped off the toilet. She was asleep on the floor, with her panties still at her knees.
We took her back in to where the bed was and stretched her on it, face down. Miles held her up, a limp doll with down flowing and very pale hair, while I tucked one, and then two, and then three firm pillows under her belly, just forward of her crotch. He let her sag forward again.
We secured each of her ankles to each of the feet of that low, rollaway bed, then fixed her wrists in the same way. She was lovely. Her bottom poked way up into the air, propped high by the pillows, and her soft pink lower lips and their pale fur were clearly visible. Her breasts hung down, barely touching the bed; those pillows are soft and will not hurt her, but they are firm!
There is a little dark dot on each tit, where I thrust the thorns into her. Those marks will be gone in a couple of days.
We then trouped upstairs, where Erik outlined our further instructions and made certain Miles and I had it all down pat.
Then I came in here to record this. This girl is without doubt the most deli…
Erik's calling.
ENTRY FORTY-FIVE
God, what a wild scene! I came without being touched! I did!
We hurried downstairs to find Erik standing before her and slightly to one side. She had both to raise and twist her head to see him. She was awake, panting as she breathed hard, lying across those pillows.
"Here they are now," Erik said. "Now I must ask you again, darling neighbor. I…"
"You took away my pantieeees!" she wailed. "You made a bargain, and then you broke it! You've stripped me na-na-naked!" She ended that screaming accusation in quaking sobs. Her head fell forward onto the bed. She ceased squirming.
"We found you asleep in the bathroom with your precious panties around your knees," he said calmly. "You had fouled them. Naturally we see to the laundry of our guests."
"You… you put something in what I ate! Or in that wine! I know you did! You made me go to sleep! And… and… and I did not foul my… m… my…" she choked off into fresh sobs.
"Tory, Tory," he said softly, stroking his hand up and down the long silken line of her naked back. Each time he stopped just as the precious dimples where her back began to swell into those delicious round cheeks. They showed not one sign of the hard hand-whipping he had given them. Her flesh quivered under his touch.
"Tory, why be so childish? Now as I was about to say: I still want recompense for having my poor dear Lois followed, and for being spied upon. All I ask is what you know others have done before you, what you will and must eventually do."
She jerked her head back and forth in outraged helplessness and anguish, dampening the rumpled sheet with her tears. Her hair flew in blond clouds like silken fingers.
"No no no no no!" she cried.
Erik went conversationally on as though she had not interrupted.
"Your mouth," he said.
"Aaaggghhhh! No no no no!"
"… such a pretty soft mouth, so nice and wide, around my…"
"Oh Godohgodohg-o-o-o-od no! Never!"
"… around my cock," Erik finished, and she shivered violently.
She made a gargling throaty sound I won't try to reproduce here. Her lovely sleek-cheeked ass bounced up and down as she struggled to jerk herself free of the bed. Her thighs tensed and her calves hunched. Her shoulders and back rippled with her efforts.
"It's as if a man has the money to pay off a debt but won't," Erik explained, standing relentlessly over her and stroking her back. She tried to flinch it away from his hand, which was of course ridiculous and completely impossible.
"He is punished," Erik went on, "until he does. He goes to prison, perhaps. Well, you owe me a debt. I want payment in my coin. Be careful, Tory. Refuse and… you will be very sorry."