11 comments/ 56031 views/ 20 favorites Pussy-Wrapped By: manyeyedhydra "You okay there?" Rich Borchers asked. "Yeah," Donald Wenk replied. He lifted his head back into the passenger seat. He'd left a small puddle of sick on the driveway. His stomach still felt greasy. "Nerves?" Rich asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yeah," Donald replied. He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. "Are you really sure this is a good idea?" "We'll be fine," Rich replied. "Nothing to worry about." Nothing to worry about, Donald thought. They were about to enter the house of one of the most notorious crime lords in the city. His stomach flipped again and Donald struggled to keep hold of his breakfast. Come on. He had to get on top of this. What kind of impression would it give if he threw up on the gangster's shoes? "Nice pad," Rich commented as they left the car and looked up at the house. It was a mansion. An extremely posh mansion on the outskirts of city. It could have featured on MTV Cribs. What were they doing here? They were a pair of college dope dealers. This was so out of their depth. "Whoever said crime doesn't pay should come down here and take a tour," Rich said. He pushed his fancy white-framed sunglasses up until they rested on his forehead. He looked a little like a noughties DJ and shared a lot of the same self belief. They walked up a flight of steps to the entrance. The front door was already open and an attractive brunette in a secretary's outfit greeted them. "Come in," she said, her voice rich like chocolate. "Mr Koontz is expecting you." She wore a pair of narrow spectacles that looked more suited to an old school matron than a smoking hot woman with the face and figure of a glamour model. Donald thought she might be deliberately dressing down in the way extremely beautiful women sometimes do in order to be taken more seriously, but that didn't seem to be borne out in the lascivious little glances she gave them, or the licentious way her hips swayed as she led them through the mansion. The outfit was a tease. A porn film costume. He doubted she was required to fulfil any actual secretarial duties. "They say he likes to surround himself with beautiful women," Rich said. "Like he'd rather be Hugh Hefnor with his own Playboy mansion." They entered a more private part of the mansion. The artwork on the walls changed from tasteful pieces of erotica to darker, more explicit, even pornographic scenes. This wasn't vanilla porn either; the pictures were sadomasochistic in nature and featured demonic women with horns, wings, tails and cloven hooves consorting with their victims. All very twisted, Donald thought. They paused to look at one large painting. It depicted Christ on the cross being tortured by three feverishly rendered demon girls. Somehow the artist had managed to do the impossible and make the girls seem at once both enticing and abhorrent. "Fruity," Rich commented. "They also say Koontz is nuttier than a bag of Planters you know," Donald said. The décor in this section of the mansion was certainly... eclectic. "Well, we'll find out soon enough," Rich said. The secretary led them into an intimate little waiting room. Seating was provided by a series of plush black leather benches. The walls were hidden behind thick velvet drapes. The only other exit was an opening in the far wall, also obscured behind thick drapes. "We'll be okay," Rich said, more to pump himself up as he looked at the curtained-off entrance. "We've got a good proposition. He's going to go for it. How else would he be able to get near those preppy faggots?" "Take your clothes off," the secretary said. "Mr Koontz will see you in the main chamber." "Huh?" Rich said. "Did you just ask us to take our clothes off?" The secretary smiled, showing a row of flawless white teeth. "Yes," she answered. "Mr Koontz insists all business negotiations be carried out naked." She said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The effect on Rich was immediate. He was knocked right off his stride, like a marathon runner hit in the guts by a baseball bat with the finishing line in sight. The progression from surprise to then doubt was clear on his face as he realised the secretary wasn't joking. Perhaps that was the intention. It was clear to Donald what Rich was thinking. All those stories about Koontz, the ones that painted him as lost it, crazy, the hippy godfather and all the rest, maybe they were true. Maybe it was more than just an act to throw off the authorities. Maybe it was more than harmless eccentricity. Maybe he was actually... you know... really crazy. All those doubts bubbled to the surface and floated across Rich's face. "Not so fucking sure about this," Rich said after the secretary had left them. "What do we do?" Donald unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers. "I think we do what she says," he said, moving on to unbutton his shirt. Donald wasn't so convinced on the rumours. Koontz ran the west side and had done so for years. A crazy person, or even just a soft eccentric, would not be able to do that. Donald could also think of plenty of sensible reasons why a man in Koontz's position would want strangers to take their clothes off before negotiating with him and most of them had nothing to do with eccentricity. "This could just be caution on Koontz's part rather than lunacy," Donald said. Rich paused to think about it. "Yeah, you could be right. This way no one's going to sneak a gun in on him unless they hide it up their ass." "It could also be a psychological ploy," Donald said. "Get people naked so they feel vulnerable and exposed." He folded up his clothes and put them on the bench. "You know what I think," Rich said. "I think there's a bunch of wiseguys sitting right through there and waiting for us to walk through these curtains so they can laugh their asses off at our lily-white butts." He tossed his shirt onto the bench. "It's not like we have a choice," Donald shrugged. "I'd rather they were laughing than pissed at us because we spoilt their fun." Rich took off the last of his clothes. His nakedness was not new to Donald. A few months back, to celebrate the large deal that had first opened up the possibility of going from occasional recreational users to college suppliers, they'd shared a hooker, spit roast her between them. It had been okay. Donald had felt a little uncomfortable fucking a girl with another man in the room. It didn't help that Rich was hung like the proverbial horse. He thought it might have been awkward for Rich too, or he'd spotted Donald's discomfort. Either way it had been a one time thing. They hadn't done it again. "Ready?" Rich asked, naked apart from the sunglasses sitting on his forehead. "Nope," Donald replied, "but it's not going to get any better." They walked through the curtain and down a dark corridor lit with low red lights. Donald's heart pounded in his chest. His stomach felt like a fried egg sliding around on a greasy pan. Why was he doing this? He knew why he was doing this. He wanted to go onto university when he graduated college. That took money. His parents didn't have it and a succession of McJobs wasn't going to get it either. Selling drugs to the spoilt brats that surfed through life on the back of Daddy's credit card might though. So long as you set aside the morality of doing it. So long as you didn't keep running out of product because the only people you could get the stuff off were unreliable stoners with brains rotted to mush. Being here was a risk. He knew that. He also knew to make the big money you had to take risks. It was like playing poker. You couldn't win the big pot if you weren't prepared to push your chips out into the middle. Donald took a deep breath, steadied himself, then followed Rich through the door at the end of the corridor. The room beyond was large and lavish. It was quite possibly the most opulent room Donald had ever seen in his life, and that included anything on either the small or big screen. It was like walking straight into the Arabian Nights, or maybe the last decadent days of the Roman Empire. Gauzy swirls of brightly coloured silks hung from the ceiling and walls. Plush cushions lay scattered across overstuffed chairs and a large black sofa. There was even a luxurious bed in one corner of the room. It was circular in shape and large enough for a full orgy. The room was only marginally better lit than the corridor preceding it. Low lights bathed everything in a soft, intimate glow. This didn't look like a room for business. It looked more like a posh whore's boudoir. It even had its own whore. In the centre of the circular bed an incredibly beautiful girl writhed on top of pink satin sheets. Long blonde hair fanned out behind a heart-shaped face that would have graced the cover of any magazine. She was naked, her long tanned legs spread wide, finger toying between the smooth folds of her lovely bald pussy, lost in pleasure and oblivious to the rest of the room as she squirmed on top of the mattress. She looked as beautiful as a top model or actress, and filthy enough to service an entire fleet of sailors. She was not the only whore. Two more gorgeous girls stood by a curtained off alcove in the side wall. Where did Koontz find them? Both could have graced the centrefold of Playboy or Penthouse. They stood there, nipples pointing upwards from gravity defying breasts, and smiled suggestively at Donald and Rich. One was a redhead, the other a brunette with long chestnut braids. If asked to pick between them Donald would have said both. And it didn't end there. There was another beautiful girl standing at Koontz's shoulder. She was tall, maybe taller even than Rich. Unlike the other girls she was not naked, instead she was clothed completely from head to foot in tight black latex. A jet-black corset was cinched tight around a classic wasp waist. Her face was pale like snow and hair the colour of midnight was brushed back in an austere pony tail. Her beauty transcended that of the others, but looking at her sent cold chills running up and down Donald's spine. The only thing that didn't look like it belonged in the room was Koontz himself. He wasn't naked, Donald hadn't expected him to be, and on seeing him Donald was fairly grateful for that. The old mobster was fat, almost grotesquely so. His features swam in the centre of a fat moon face. His lips were thick and looked like two slugs sliding over each other. His gross body was hidden within a red silk dressing gown. Given their current surroundings it reminded Donald of the togas worn by Roman senators in old sixties epic movies. "Welcome, welcome to my humble abode," Koontz said, standing up from what looked a little like a raised throne and waving his arms in an extravagant greeting. Imagine if Ozzy Osbourne had an older, fatter brother. That would be Donald's description of Koontz. Unfortunately the other man's eyes were hidden behind a pair of rose-tinted spectacles. A poker player, Donald liked to gauge people by what he saw in their eyes. Rich tapped him in the side and surreptitiously pointed down to Koontz's feet. Good lord, was he really wearing a pair of fluffy white bunny slippers? Rich flashed him a concerned look as if to say, 'what now?' Koontz stood before them, hands clasped together, smiling broadly like a benevolent monk. His clothes, especially those slippers, looked crazier than a box of frogs, but there was something about him... Koontz reminded Donald of guys he'd seen at the poker tables in the local casino. They looked like giant goofballs and they had that whole hick in the big city shtick, but come the early hours of the morning they were always the ones with the giant stack of chips in front of them. Donald got the same vibe about Koontz, a little tingle that warned him to think damn carefully before putting his chips up against this guy. Donald gave Rich a little nod to indicate they should proceed as planned. "Hello Mr Koontz," Rich said, stepping forward and offering his hand. "I'm Richard Borchers. We spoke on the phone." "Ah yes, you're the college hotshots with the juicy proposition for me," Koontz answered. "That's right," Rich smiled rakishly. Donald introduced himself. Koontz's hand was large, soft and felt unpleasantly squishy. "Sit down, sit down," Koontz beckoned to the large sofa behind them. "Mille, Chiro, would you be so kind as to get some drinks for our guests." The redhead and the brunette disappeared into the curtained off alcove. They returned with tumblers of a dark amber liquid. Whiskey, Donald thought as he took a sip. An expensive brand. The fiery liquid glided down his throat and left a warm glow in its wake. "Do you like my girls?" Koontz asked. Rather than leaving, Mille and Chiro sat on the sofa on either side of them. The redhead, Mille, scooted up close to Donald until he felt her warm thighs come up against his. "They're very attractive," Rich said. He took a gulp of whiskey and flashed the brunette a cocky wink. "Would you like to fuck one of them? Right now?" Koontz didn't even miss a beat. His smile stretched a little wider, like a toad on ecstasy. The directness caught both Donald and Rich by surprise. Rich emptied the contents of his glass with a single swift gulp. Donald would have liked to do the same, but he wanted to stay focused. He placed the tumbler on the small table in front of them. "Oh dear," Koontz said, feigning upset at their shock. "I hope I haven't offended you. I find a little dollop of sex works wonders for greasing the wheels of business, but sometimes I forget my views are a little more liberal than most folks are used to." "Not at all," Rich said. "Oh good," Koontz said. "So which would you like? You can have any of the girls here. Even Physalia should you desire," he glanced up at the statuesque girl behind him. "You might not like her though. She's a little rough in bed." He chuckled, a sound like noxious gas bubbling up through a mire. The tall girl in black latex smiled, if it could be described as such. Donald felt icicles grow on his eyelashes just looking at her. "We'll get the business out of the way first, if that's okay with you," Donald said. "As you wish," Koontz said. "I like the way you do business," Rich said, the whiskey allowing him to recover some of his natural bravado. "Not so effective on the ladies though, I'd wager." "You'd be surprised," Koontz smiled. "My girls are very talented." The brunette stood up to collect Rich's empty glass. As she did so she turned to him and mimicked a lapping motion with her tongue. The pink organ flickered back and forth as fast as a snake's. "I see," Rich said. "Maybe you'd like to borrow them sometime," Koontz said. "I've found them to be very persuasive when dealing with stubborn people in authority." "I'll keep it in mind," Rich said. An image of old Mrs Jones, their vice principal, her face contorted in ecstasy as the brunette lapped between her legs, entered Donald's mind. It was unspeakably gross, but Donald was thankful for it. He could do with an arousal killer about now. The redhead had laid a warm hand on his thigh and was softly blowing in his ear. "Right, business," Rich said, jumping up out of the sofa. He liked to stand up when giving his pitches. It gave him more room to get animated. The pitch was familiar to Donald. They'd already rehearsed it many times in practise. They had the market; Koontz had the product. Donald zoned out Rich's voice and focused on the rest of the room. Who or what were the possible threats? The girl behind Koontz. The one dressed as a dominatrix to satisfy any kinkier desires. Except she wasn't. She was his bodyguard and woe betide Donald and Rich if they were dumb enough to try anything stupid. That was clear to Donald. Koontz himself. Forget the dressing gown, rose-tinted spectacles and those stupid slippers. This was a man with a well oiled machine between his ears. The brunette with the long braids returned and took Rich's place on the sofa. She squeezed up against Donald until he was sandwiched between the hot bodies of both girls. The brunette put her arm around his shoulder and twirled his hair. Rich continued with his pitch. Koontz asked for details: substances, quantities, prices. Koontz wasn't an easy man to read, but Donald thought he seemed interested. More importantly he seemed satisfied they weren't just a pair of flaky college punks. The girls on either side of Donald were getting him very aroused. The brunette turned her body so her breasts were pressed up against his arm. Her lips lightly brushed against his cheek. The redhead had a hand in Donald's crotch and was toying with his balls. She picked up his hand and carried it to her own crotch. He felt the heat and moistness of her sex between the palm of his hand and his cock jumped to attention. Not yet, Donald thought. Lets get the business out of the way first. Afterwards he'd take Koontz up on his offer and bang the redhead or the brunette or maybe even both. But not here. He wanted somewhere private. "So you want to deal for me?" Koontz said, still grinning like a toad stoned on ecstasy. "We were thinking of something more along the lines of a partnership," Rich said. "Fifty-fifty." This was the key moment. What would Koontz do? Would he bite or would he throw them out for having the affront to think, they, a couple of college punks, could even dare to ask for an even deal. Koontz chuckled. "You've got some balls, college boy," he said. "It is a most tempting prospect though. Colleges are such fertile grounds, both for opportunity and future influence. Diona, what do you think?" Koontz surprised Donald by turning to ask the blonde girl on the bed. She was sitting at the edge of the bed now, her green eyes bright as she studied Rich. "What would you like?" Koontz asked. Who was she? Donald thought. He'd thought she was just another hooker, another sweet little distraction, but could she have been performing a similar role to him, quietly observing the other party, weighing them up? "I want to wrap him up in my pussy and squeeze out all his spunk," Diona said. Or maybe not, Donald smiled to himself. Another of Koontz's little games. Rich smiled too. "That's nice sweetie," he said. "Now go back to your magic pixie dust and let the men finish their business talk." The blonde girl smiled at Koontz. Koontz smiled back at her. Even the ice queen in black latex smiled. Everyone was all smiles. The blonde girl opened her legs and her pussy lips expanded and shot out until they closed around Rich like the shell of a clam, or maybe the jaws of a venus flytrap. Rich was so stunned he didn't react fast enough to move away before the lips enfolded him. No, he never had a chance to move; it all happened far too quickly. Shocked, Donald tried to jump off the sofa. His legs refused to obey his instructions. The sofa was soft and comfortable, the girls' bodies on either side of him were soft and comfortable. They pressed close to him, their full breasts rubbing against his arms. Their soft lips brushed against his neck, his cheeks, his lips. They blew softly in his ear and whispered seductive words that wormed into his mind and tethered him to the sofa. Both had a hand in his crotch now, long fingers tickling through his hairs like static electricity while the other stroked up and down his growing erection with feather-light caresses. As much as he wanted to get up, his body rebelled, refusing to leave their pleasurable attentions. He struggled to make sense of what he saw. It was like seeing a magnified close-up of a pussy projected onto the wall of an underground sex club. He could see with great detail the plush, hairless folds of her labia. They were tightly shut, a gate to unknowable pleasures, the pink treasures sealed within, showing only a single smooth canyon. Pussy-Wrapped This was no projection though, or a case of smoke and mirrors. Rich was between those fleshy lips. His head was the only part of his body that remained visible. It stuck out somewhere near the top, not far from where the clitoris would be obscured by its fleshy hood on a normal female body. Rich currently wore an expression of shock and surprise, as if he was still trying to come to turns with what had happened. "Mmm, it feels so good when they squirm," the blonde on the bed, Diona, sighed. Her body, still the same size as before, flexed and her vaginal lips retracted, pulling Donald between her legs. Diona rocked on the bed, her full breasts swaying back and forth, just as if Rich was standing between her legs and fucking him. In a way he was, but he wasn't just inside her pussy, he was really inside her pussy. His whole body was wrapped in a thick layer of pink flesh that rippled and undulated around him. Rich's expression of shock vanished. His eyes rolled up and his mouth fell open. He emitted a moan, but it was more of pleasure than pain. "You can't escape me now," Diona said. "You're all wrapped up in my pussy and I'm going to squeeze and squeeze." She closed her eyes and moaned loudly. Her cheeks were flushed red. Her dusky brown nipples stood up straight from her chest as they rocked back and forth with her body. Donald heard wet squishing sounds and her giant pussy started to swell and puff up. Beads of moisture appeared in the soft crevice between her lips. The pungent aroma of her sex filled the room, so strong it felt to Donald as if his head was being smothered between a woman's thighs. He had to get out of here, Donald thought. Something very wrong was taking place. He still couldn't move though. The two girls on either side of him had worked some kind of hypnosis on his body. He thought there might be a chance when the redhead got up and walked over to the bed. It was only a faint glimmer of a hope and the other girl extinguished it as she tipped his head towards hers and crushed her full lips against his in a kiss. Chiro released him from the kiss and Donald lolled back against the sofa. His brain felt scrambled. Concentrate. He couldn't. The thick stench of sex was everywhere. It permeated his lungs and overwhelmed him. His cock was swollen and ached with the need for sensation. He watched as Mille rubbed a hand along the smooth pink canyon of Diona's pussy and it came away dripping with steaming juices. "You won't want to miss this," Chiro whispered in his ear. Focus. He needed to focus. This was Koontz's little game. He had to focus and find a way out of here. He had to... Mille wrapped a hand covered in Diona's vaginal juices around Donald's cock and began to pump up and down. Donald exhaled with a loud gasp, overcome by the sensation of her hand stroking up and down his erection. The liquid covering her hand was warm and slippery like scented oil. "If you think this is good, imagine what it feels like for your friend," Mille whispered as she pumped his cock. "Diona has him all wrapped up in the silken folds of her pussy. Her soft flesh is rubbing her juices into every intimate part of his body." Rich vented a loud groan. Donald recognised both the sound and the expression on his friend's face from that time they'd shared a hooker. He'd just come, explosively. "Yes," Diona hissed. "Spray your seed into my warm folds." She rocked her body back and forth with greater vigour. The bed swayed and bucked beneath her as the oversized labia of her pussy throbbed and pulsed with obscene motion. The wet sounds grew louder. Her juices oozed out between her lips and dripped onto the floor. Rich was completely gone. Lost in a world of incalculable pleasures. His eyes were shut and he moaned and sighed in pleasure. Mille's wet hand crawled down to Donald's balls and he squirmed as she played with them. She massaged the fluids into his sac and he felt a warm tingling glow spread up into his body. She grabbed them a little more tightly and pumped them, like squeezing a sponge ball. It didn't hurt and every time she relaxed her grip his balls expanded to fill her hand. She kept pumping and his balls kept growing in volume until they felt as large as tennis balls and the skin of his sac was stretched and swollen. He writhed and squirmed; wanting, desperately needing the pressure to be alleviated. "Not too much," Chiro warned. "Do they feel uncomfortable?" Mille whispered. "Let me suck out some of that tension." She bent her head down into his lap. He felt her breath against the head of his cock. It was warm, no it was hot, hot like fire, hot like boiling water, hot like raw unbridled passion. She teased him with her breath, letting the warm air swirl and flow over the naked folds of his shaft. Her sumptuous lips were close enough to brush against him. She lapped at his jap's eye with the tip of her tongue. Rich gave another low moan. "Mmm, yes," Diona urged as she squeezed her breasts. "Spurt all your spunk inside me." She'd made Rich come again? Donald thought. So soon? "You can feel what her juices are doing when rubbed into just your cock and balls," Chiro whispered in his ear. "Imagine what it would feel like to soak your whole body in them, to have them rubbed into every inch of your flesh. Her pussy will squeeze every drop of cum from your friend's body and keep squeezing until there's nothing left of him at all." "Why?" Donald asked. Mille kissed the head of his cock with lips far too warm to belong to any human. She bobbed her head down sharply and Donald gasped as those sizzling lips slipped all the way down his shaft and his cock thrust up into the sultry heat of her mouth. "Your proposal interests me," Koontz said, watching the proceedings with his fat toad smile, "but I only need one of you. I find obedience is far easier to obtain if first you make an example." Rich's head lolled back. His eyes turned inward, trapped in some inner universe of bliss while Diona sighed loudly on the bed. Diona bobbed her head up and down on Donald's cock. She squeezed the shaft between her lips like a prize morsel of food. "Your friend is a little too flashy for my tastes," Koontz continued. "Brings the wrong kind of attention." "It's a kindness," Chiro whispered in his ear. "After experiencing one of Diona's whole body fucks all other pleasures become grey and joyless." Mille bobbed her head up and down in Donald's lap faster and faster. Her boiling tongue slithered round his cock like a snake made of molten latex. Trapped between their warm bodies, Donald squirmed and shuddered with forced pleasure. "But you," Koontz continued. "You I think I can do business with. You're cautious and you study each situation carefully. I think you'll serve me very well indeed." Donald put a hand on Mille's head and was surprised to feel something hard and pointed there. Horns. The girl had horns. He looked down and saw the two black points protruding from a point just behind her forehead. He looked down the curve of her spine and realised it wasn't the light, her skin had darkened to a shade of deep, blood red. Further down and he was shocked to see she had a tail. Narrow and terminating in a devil's point, it whipped back and forth above the taut swell of her ass in a lust-fuelled frenzy. What in the hell were they? Her mouth was irresistible. It was hot and moist like a personal sauna for his cock. The suction was incredible. He felt it all the way through the root of his cock and even in his balls. Fuck, he couldn't hold out any longer. Donald groaned loudly and his hips pistoned up of their own accord. At the same time she gripped his balls and squeezed. Donald writhed in uncontrollable ecstasy as he pumped wave after wave of semen into her boiling hot mouth. He wasn't sure it would end. She kept sucking and sucking until she sucked out every last drop and his balls felt as slack and empty as a pair of deflated balloons. The worst, the part that truly terrified him, was he wasn't even sure she'd stop, that she'd turn that irresistible suction deeper on his body, drawing out his blood, his marrow, his soft tissues... ...his soul? She stopped though. She released his cock, gave the tip a sweet kiss and sat back up, her warm body leaning against Donald. Donald lay back on the sofa. His breath came in ragged gasps. He felt like he'd been engaged in some kind of violent physical activity. His heart rattled in his chest like a snare drum. He looked over at the bed. The blonde lay back, her body giving off the warm glow from the aftermath of sex or some other similar form of complete satiation. Her pussy was no longer swollen up to monstrous proportions. Instead it had retracted down until it looked no different from a normal girl's pussy. As Donald watched she sighed and opened her legs. A thick stream of milky white cum bubbled out and formed a pool beneath her dripping pussy. Of Rich there was no sign apart from his fancy white-framed sunglasses lying on the bed between her legs. "About this deal," Koontz said. "Fifty-fifty is a little too generous wouldn't you agree." Mille turned Donald's head so he faced her. Her eyes were pure black, completely devoid of any trace of warmth or a soul. She smiled and opened her mouth to reveal the strands of creamy white cum she'd swallowed. His creamy white cum. "I have your taste," she whispered. "I can find you anywhere." Even though the room was warm, even though Donald was hot from the aftermath of sex, even though he was sandwiched between two hot bodies, at that moment he felt a sudden chill as if he'd suddenly been dunked in the Arctic ocean. "What would you say to ten per cent," Koontz said, grinning like a toad squatting atop a mountain of juicy fat flies. Donald said yes. He couldn't really see any other alternative.