10 comments/ 47369 views/ 12 favorites Goddess Within By: dr_mabeuse Claire was reluctant to get out of the cab, even after she'd checked the address on the door against what Eric had written on the card in her hand. The place wasn't what she'd expected, not a trendy boutique or high-fashion shop at all. It was deliberately, almost negligently understated, totally bare of any advertising among the exclusive little restaurants and expensive hair-stylists shoehorned into rows of ancient brownstones on this block of Ohio Street between Rush and Wabash where the real estate was priced by the square inch. The front was a series of glass panes swagged with luxurious fabric from behind, and that, along with the gold hand lettering on the door that said simply Goddess Within was the only sign that there was any sort of business being conducted here at all. The cabbie waited and finally turned and looked back at her. "Eleven oh six east Ohio?" he asked. "This is eleven oh six east, lady. That's what the sign on the door says. Twelve dollars and seventy-five cents." Claire looked out the window once more, nagged by a strange feeling of emptiness. This wasn't what she'd expected. The whole mission was kind of odd, this whole episode in their relationship. The fight with Eric had been familiar enough, the same subject, the silly superficial business of their lovemaking, but this time he'd suddenly dropped it as if simply unwilling to talk about it and further. Then he'd slipped her this card and told her he'd made her an appointment and that he expected her to go, and that was all. No further discussion, no negotiation. That wasn't like him, getting imperious with her like that, giving her orders, but soon enough he'd softened and made a joke of it, smiled, folded the card into her hand, and that's how he'd left it, as something of a gag, a lover's game, a surprise or some kind of gift. She was supposed to go down there at three o'clock on this snowy and glowering Tuesday afternoon and something special would happen; that's all there was to it. She wasn't sure just what. He said the people here would take care of her. They'd be expecting her. "You wouldn't," she began as she fished out a twenty for the driver and leaned forward in her seat. "You wouldn't know what this place is, do you?" The cabdriver craned his neck and looked into her face for the first time. She'd dressed carefully, and Eric had told her what to wear, or had approved her choices. He could be a stickler about things like that. The skirt and jacket were fine wool, bluish-gray and nicely feminine, and she wore stockings, boots, a blue crepe blouse, her long black coat and fine leather boots. The colors were somber but she felt the textures were almost too summery for this time of year, the blouse especially seemed meant to be lifted by a spring breeze. She was cold in the cab. She felt the cabbie's eyes on her body, picking their way between the folds of her coat. "Honey, I have no idea. Don't you know?" She made a face to show that of course, the question was ridiculous, then tipped him and smiled, returning the same thin bills he'd given her as change, then gathered her coat and stepped out into the street, closed the door and stepped back as the bulk of the cab pulled away, grimed with road salt. It left her standing in a deep cavernous space in the city street, hard among the brick buildings and the piles of cold and crusted snow. The thick wooden window frames of the place were painted forest green. The fabric behind them was gold, but old gold, tired with time and age. There wasn't the slightest attempt at decoration or advertisement for the place; no sign of invitation. The sidewalk hadn't been shoveled and there wasn't a footprint in the snow as she walked up to the door. It was hard to locate the bell, just a simple plate with a black plastic button, cheap and make-do. Claire hesitated. At three o'clock shadows already clung to the façade of the building and the wind swept down off the lake not two blocks away and sent spindrifts of snow whirling along Ohio Street, searching her out as she stood in the doorway. The winter was cold. She didn't know why that fact always surprised her. A girl could freeze if she didn't have someone protecting her. She pressed the button and heard a bell ring inside. She pressed her forehead against the glass of the door and heard music coming from inside; warm, lush music—Vivaldi or something else Baroque and civilized. She pressed on the doorbell again. The curtain over the door was pulled aside gently by a strikingly elegant Indian woman, impeccably dressed in a dark suit, a pair of half-glasses on a chain around her neck. Her black hair was pulled back in a bun, and a shock of white above her temple gave her eyes a penetrating depth and her features a most arresting cast. She looked at Claire through the glass, then opened a series of locks and chains and swung the door open a crack. "You're Ms. Anselm? Then please come in, quickly, and do mind the draft." It was the name that Eric had said he'd use for her, just as he'd be Eric Sperling, and so she walked in. Stepping into the room was like stepping into a florist's, the change in climate was that extreme. There was the same heavy humidity and the odors were almost as thick, but instead of the cloying sweetness of flowers there was the delicate smell of sachet and perfume, fine fabrics and polished leather. It was a shrine to Venus, to the feminine, to those elusive beauties that had to be sought and searched out. There was a rich sensuality beneath the teasing ambergris note that one didn't smell as much as taste. The odor was like a wine that the tongue tasted while the real richness went to work on the deeper centers of the brain. The inside of the place was as sumptuous as the outside was plain, with oriental carpets and antique furnishings, subdued lighting and old, hand-carved display cases showing articles of lingerie lit discretely from below in jewelry-like settings. The place had the look of an old world library, complete down to the gas fire that burned in an ornate, lion's-mouth fireplace against the side wall. Fresh flowers were everywhere, and above the other smells Claire detected the heavenly aroma of freshly brewed coffee, warm and embracing. "I'm Dr. Madhuri," the Indian woman said with a warm smile, and from the back came a young man in an immaculate blue suit, his straight blond hair framing a face that would almost be pretty except for a sensuous turn to his full lower lip that gave him a hint of delicious cruelty. "This is David. He's been especially chosen to assist you today. Please, let me take your coat. Can I offer you some coffee? And may I suggest that you sit by the fire to chase the chill away? Chicago winters are just awful, aren't they?" Claire moved as if in a daze, letting Madhuri take her coat and guide her to a leather armchair by the fire. The city's winters might be cruel, but here in this place they'd found a way to keep them most comfortable at bay. This was an enchanted place. "There's cream and sugar so you can help yourself," Madhuri said, pointing to the silver and jade service on the coffee table. "And this is our own special blend. I should warn you, it's fully caffeinated. We don't dabble with nature." "Thank you. That's fine. It smells delicious." Claire waited while David poured, her eyes fixed on that lip, so eminently biteable, then she opened a pack of sweetener and poured that in, followed by some real sweet cream from a silver pitcher. The black liquid blushed with exuberant clouds of milkiness she found strangely pleasing, and as her spoon worked in the liquid, the bell-like tone of the metal against the china slowly mellowed and lowered in pitch and the coffee released a sudden burst of aroma that kissed her face as she lowered her lips to it. It was excellent, one of those remarkable brews that tasted every bit as good as it smelled, warm and rich and bracingly bitter. Madhuri watched her drink. "Now," she said, picking up a leather binder and glancing at the contents. "You're sent to us by Mr. Eric Sperling, who has some concerns about the way your romance is going. Is that right?" Claire froze with the cup still poised at her lips. "I beg your pardon?" Madhuri smiled at her. "I'm sorry. You're familiar with Goddess Within Intimates and how we operate?" "Er, no. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid not. My boyfriend Eric made this appointment for me without exactly telling me what to expect." Madhuri smiled. "That's quite all right. About half our patrons come to us that way. I can explain rather simply. We are, in the most basic terms, a very exclusive, client-centered sexual boutique of the most sophisticated sort, dealing with our customers on a one-to-one, holistic basis. I'm a PhD in sexual physiology, and all our staff is equally qualified and fully professional. Our services aren't inexpensive, and, being holistic, we treat the entire client, body and spirit. We pride ourselves on our discretion and our results, which we guarantee. The fact that your Mr. Sperling has hired us to consult with you means that he thinks very highly of you, Ms. Anselm, and is very committed to your relationship. He's prepared to invest a significant amount of money in the two of your personal and sexual intimacy. We are here to facilitate the growth of that intimacy." Claire stared at her in some bewilderment. A sexual boutique? Sex toys? Dildos? Vibrators? She felt her cheeks flush, yet it was hard to conceive of anything so tawdry being presented in such an atmosphere of refined dignity and sophistication. "I know this comes as something of a shock at first," Madhuri said in a soothing, confidential tone. "But we often act as mediators between couples when normal channels of communication break down for one reason or another. David? Would you excuse us?" David gave a slight bow and turned and left the room, and Madhuri poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down opposite Claire. She was a striking woman, and when she smiled and relaxed in the chair with her coffee she radiated a warmth that was most inviting and almost motherly. She also had the most perfect knees Claire had ever seen on a woman, and it was charming to see them displayed so casually, girl to girl. "I don't want you to be alarmed or put off, Claire—you don't mind if I call you Claire?" She smiled disarmingly. Her eyes were deep and kind, with just the beginning of laugh lines at the corners. "Yes, we're in this as a business, but it's a mission too, and we truly hope for our clients to become our friends and confidants. We are, I assure you, the very soul of discretion, and we perform what we consider an extremely important, even critical service, one that no one else can do." She put her glasses on and opened her leather folder again. "Mr. Sperling has already discussed his feelings with us, what he feels are the delicate points in the relationship. Apparently he's very much in love with you, Claire, and at this stage it's merely a matter of adding some depth to your love-making. He feels you're a bit shy or reticent when it comes to touching yourself in bed, something he feels it would give him much pleasure to observe." "He said that?" "Yes he did. Are you surprised? He's never mentioned that to before?" Claire colored again. "Well, maybe he did, I don't know. But it's not the kind of thing I thought he'd go and tell strangers about!" "Not strangers, Claire. Therapists. He's looking for help with this problem." "Well I don't think we need help. It's a personal issue and I think we can solve it ourselves." Madhuri said nothing, just looked at her curiously. "You've considered solutions to this problem, Claire? Would you like to tell me your side of it?" she asked. "Side? There is no 'side'. Eric—Mr. Sperling—seems somewhat obsessed with watching me do certain things I'm not especially comfortable doing." "And you have a method in mind to resolve this difficulty?" After a time, when Claire had said nothing, Madhuri looked back down into her binder. "It can be delicate, I know, and uncomfortable. In any case, it's not something we have to rush into. We are also a lingerie boutique, and we'd also like to show you some of the items Mr. Sperling selected for you. He'd like you to see them in any case. Would that be all right?" "Really, I can't believe he'd come to you with something like this," Claire said. "It's quite embarrassing." Madhuri made a dismissive face. "Oh, not really. Relationships are a grow-or-die proposition, Claire, and when one partner hits an impasse, it's often more critical than they usually like to think. I think Mr. Sperling was unusually caring and concerned to go through this trouble. Your own impasse isn't that unusual at all. I suffered from it myself, and it's found in about thirty-eight per cent of all women. There are three main causes, and treatment's almost always successful. Brief and successful and it's never a problem again. But let's not talk about that now. Let me have David show you the items. By the way, my name again is Madhuri. Some people have trouble remembering it." Before Claire could object, David appeared with a stack of boxes and set them down and opened one. She didn't know what she'd been expecting—some sort of crotchless embarrassment of red leather perhaps—but what he showed her was a lovely gossamer baby doll of fabric so fine it seemed to be nothing but shadow. He held it out for her and from the way Madhuri inclined her head, Claire realized she was supposed to touch it. She put down her coffee and ran it between her fingers. It felt like a skin of cream, rich in butterfat, like something liquid. It was remarkable. "Oh!" she said, genuinely surprised. "It's lovely. What is the fabric?" "It's a special Venetian silk charmeuse woven from a rare variety of oak-fed tussah. Very hard to come by. Do you like it?" "Do I like it? Well, yes, I suppose I do. I can't imagine wearing anything like this, but it's fantastic. I'm not really the lingerie type, Madhuri..." "Oh, none of us are, are we?" Madhuri said. "David, the next one." "Really, Madhuri, it's very nice, but..." The next piece was out of the box—blue silk pajamas that would match Claire's eyes, with little green and pink flowers, cut tighter than normal pajamas. Claire could imagine how they'd fit, but again, it was the feel of the fabric between her fingers that took her aback: sensual and evanescent, almost melting into her touch. The thought that Eric had felt this fabric and thought of her made her weak in her stomach—that he in his strength and his sureness had linked her to the melting sensuality and dreamlike warmth of this fabric touched her someplace deep inside. An assistant came out, a young man dressed all in black like a dancer—tight trousers, turtleneck, black ballet shoes, He carried more boxes, and Claire watched eagerly as he opened them and she gazed at more lingerie, and soon was caught up in the magic of the fabric and colors, the sensuality and excitement of peering into the layers of tissue and the handsome boxes. Eric had picked these out. These were the skins he saw her in, and even when he got the colors and styles wrong she suddenly realized what these garments meant—his hopes for her, his guesses about her. At some point it occurred to her to ask, "Tell me, Madhuri, how does buying lingerie help me with my...er...problem?" The Indian woman took the stopper out of a carafe and poured some liquor into Claire's coffee. "Here. Try this. A little Bailey's makes it an Irish coffee. So warming on a day like today." She poured some into her own cup and sat back into her chair. "Oh, the lingerie has nothing to do with your problem other than to set the proper mood, one of relaxed sensuality, a kind of feminine atmosphere. They are quite gorgeous, though, aren't they? Drink your coffee, Claire. David, bring in the panties." The coffee and liquor warmed her immediately and the fire seemed to grow a bit brighter, the room closer and cozier. It was such a clean and sumptuous place, and Madhuri such an elegant and beguiling hostess that Claire had no trouble relaxing back in her chair and asking for another coffee as David unveiled the panties—mostly thongs—each in their own individual pouch or delicate lace-trimmed box, each like an exquisite piece of jewelry. "What Mr. Sperling wants," Madhuri said, "And do you mind if I call him Eric? We were on a first name basis when we talked—is for you to be freer with your body in front of him, more uninhibited. It's a common request men make of their lovers, but one that women are often unfortunately not always comfortable with. But let me show you some of the types of things we mean." She reached over and took a lime green satin bag from David and opened it and shook it out into her hand. Within was what looked like a golden seashell—a scallop—with a thin waistband around it. Coming from the base was a slender penis-shaped projection of thin brass, and Claire saw at once what it was for. The projection was meant to go inside the vagina and hold the scallop shell over the mons. A crafty piece of equipment and beautifully made. "Eric ordered this for you as well." "He did?" Claire asked with something like pride in her voice. "Yes. And this..." She opened another bag and held up what was hardly a thong at all, just an array of jewels and stones like a Rajah's necklace, obviously made to hang over the female genitals. A fine feather hung from the bottom where it would certainly swing against and stimulate the labia and clitoris. For the third time, Claire felt herself blush, and this time there was a sense of excitement that went with it. "Shall we see how it fits?" Madhuri asked. "What?" "Oh, just a trial." Madhuri stood up and walked behind Claire's chair and easily reached around and lifted up her skirt and laid the necklace over the girl's panties. The weight of the cold stones and metal pressed against Claire's flesh through the thin fabric and the feather lolled tantalizingly against her naked thigh. She was too shocked to speak. She looked down at her crotch, the tops of her stockings, her naked thighs supporting the weight of the jewelry. She should have been outraged, but Madhuri's touch was so skilled and expert and the weight of the thong so pleasant and arousing that she said nothing, even though David was standing right there, his face expressionless. "Yes," Madhuri said. "You see the way that feels, how subtly exciting. This is where Goddess Within distinguishes itself from most sex stores. We offer a full spectrum of sensual experiences, from the mildly arousing to the fully satisfying, each one exquisitely fine-tuned. "With women reluctant to pleasure themselves in front of their lovers, we often find that they've had upbringings that have taught them that autoeroticism is bad or not fit for a lady. Some even feel that it's insulting to their partner, that it implies that he's not doing an adequate job as a lover. But I assure you, men look at a woman's pleasuring herself differently. Men see it as a sign of a woman's arousal and desire for them. To them it's a supreme compliment. Can you see yourself in the mirror?" Claire looked up at the antique mirror surrounding the fireplace and was shocked at what she saw. Sitting there with her fine wool skirt up around her waist, the skein of jewels in her lap, her legs spread, a look of sensual bliss on her face, she looked like some decadent queen. "Can you see yourself as Eric sees you? As he pictures you, as he wants to see you, Claire? Touch yourself." The spell was broken. "What?" "Oh, don't be silly. Just touch your panties." Madhuri took her hand and brought it down till her Claire's fingers rested on the heavy jeweled garment, then sat back and caught Claire's eyes in the mirror. Her eyebrows lifted suggestively. Goddess Within "You see now? You see how you look? You'll set his blood on fire." "I don't know. I feel self-conscious." "Of course. Of course you do. So did I my first time." Madhuri went back to her chair and sat down. She clapped her hands. "Stefan! Leo! Bring in the toys!" Turning to Claire she said, "Don't move. You're perfect." Claire looked down at herself, at her bare thighs showing above her stockings, the thin crotch of her panties separating her sex from these men's eyes. The dancing-boy came back in along with another boy dressed just like him. The boxes and packages were starting to pile up now and spill off of the coffee table. "These are the finest products in the world," Madhuri said. "Japan, Germany, Finland, Czechoslovakia. The Thais are doing very clever things these days too." Claire was quite aware that, although there were three men present and she was sitting with her skirt up around her waist, she felt no shame or embarrassment. She felt quite natural, in fact, as if being waited on like this were quite normal. "Here," Madhuri said. "Stefan, the Blue Snake." Stefan was black and lean, his skin a delicious cocoa-bean brown. He opened a box and withdrew a massive dildo, made of blue plastic balls joined together. He held it and presented it to Claire as if it were a bouquet of roses. It was at least a foot long. "Oh my God, Madhuri! What am I supposed to do with that?" "Well that's up to you, but I wanted you to see the quality. It's silicone, but there's none of that gooeyness or stickiness; very lifelike and warm, biopolymer. Feel it." "Really, I couldn't..." "Oh, just feel it, Claire!" She reached out and ran her fingers over it. It had that same softness of surface with underlying hardness as a penis. The series of balls, penetrating her, would feel wonderful, and so much, so deep. Claire smiled as Madhuri refilled her cup and poured in more liquor. She looked up at Stefan but his eyes were veiled. She realized from his aura of exquisite calm and detachment that he must be gay. "Madhuri, really!" "Leo, the Revolver." Leo's features looked Asian, his head was shaved, and he opened a box and removed a plastic dildo with a suction cup base and a battery pack attached by a cord. When he turned it on, the shaft began a slow, obscene revolution like a finger twirling in the air. "Oh my God," Claire exclaimed. "I don't believe that! That's fantastic! Did Eric order that too?" "No. These are just samples. But come. Stefan? The nipple pump." He opened the box to produce an implement that looked something like an ice cream scoop with a rubber ring where the scoop should be. Madhuri held out her hand for it and he gave it to her, and she turned it on and then gestured for Claire's hand. She pressed the rubber ring against Claire's palm, and Claire squealed as the ring began to apply soft suction to her flesh. "We have a host of products, Claire. Things you can hardly imagine. Let me show you..." "Oh, Madhuri, I don't know. I mean..." But the older woman had already stood up and was opening her blouse, and Claire could find no polite way to stop her. She certainly didn't want to make a scene in front of the men, and before she knew what had happened, her blouse was opened and one cup of her bra was down and the nipple pump was affixed to her right breast, sucking and coaxing at it in a way that sent thrills down to the juncture between her legs. Claire tried to speak, tried to say something, but all she could do was hum with pleasure and alarm at how easily her body responded to this lewd manipulation. Claire sat uneasily, her back straight, trying to project some sense of dignity, though she realized she was subtly pressing her breast against the device in Madhuri's hand. The plastic was warm. Her breast was warm; the entire right side of her body was warm from the radiance of the fire that filled the lion's mouth with radiant, masculine heat. Stefan and Leo stood only a few feet away like serving eunuchs awaiting Madhuri's orders, admiring Claire's beauty but doing nothing. Their own delicate androgynous perfection was strangely arousing. Claire lowered her lashes and glanced at their crotches. It was hard to tell but she thought their cocks were hard. She thought they were getting off on looking at her body, on seeing her pleasure, and the knowledge made her feel soft and liquid inside. Madhuri seemed to notice everything Claire looked at, everything she thought. "Yes," she said. "Eric was right about you. You're a very sensuous woman. You just need to be exposed to the right stimulus. Move over to this chair, Claire. Over here." She helped Claire move over to another chair, an ornately carved, wooden, upholstered chair, free of the mess of boxes and tissue paper, and helped her sit, the nipple pump still working maddeningly at her breast. Claire was in heaven, all traces of shame and inhibition gone. Her breasts weren't overly large but had always been exquisitely sensitive, and now she was running on erotic overload. Strangely, something about being in the presence of the three men only increased her sense of dissipation and salaciousness. Had they been women, she would have been embarrassed. Had they been straight men, she would have been terribly humiliated. But they were gay, and they were admirers of women, and she knew they were on her side. Yet even so, they were still men enough that witnessing her fall into this sexual stupor fascinated them and shamed her, and her own shame was intoxicating to her. Most interesting was David. Stefan had the exaggerated Negroid features of an African tribal mask and Leo's face was smooth and inscrutable, but David was coquettishly beautiful, his blonde hair hanging delinquently in his forehead, a sensuous pout always hovering about his lips. A young James Dean or David Bowie, perhaps. He seemed least interested in what Claire was experiencing. He was much more concerned with the mess in the shop. "Put your arms up, dear," Madhuri said softly, and she lifted Claire's right wrist, never stopping with the breast pump. From behind, Leo bound a silk scarf around her wrist and tied it to the back of the chair. "No!" Claire protested. "What are you doing?" Stefan took her left wrist and bound it similarly so her hands were tied loosely but securely at shoulder level to the decorative carvings that framed the cushion at the back of the chair. Claire seemed to wake up from her trance and pulled feebly at the scarves, to no effect. "It's simply to help you in your evaluation, dear," Madhuri said. "You won't be harmed." She removed the pump and stood up. "Now there's someone here who'd like to take part in our experiment. Eric?" Eric walked out of the back of the shop, a pleased smile on his face. He came up to Claire and kissed her on the cheek. "Hello, darling." "My God, Eric! What are you doing here?" "I'm paying for all this. I thought I'd like to sit in." "Officially he's recording data," Madhuri said as she finished unbuttoning Claire's blouse. "He's paying for all this. He knows you. Who better to gauge your responses?" "But Eric, what is all this? Why didn't you tell me about this?" "You never would have come if I'd told you. And how could I have explained what they do here?" "But what are they going to do to me?" Madhuri smiled "Nothing, nothing really. Just see how you respond to some stimuli. That's all." Madhuri put down the pump. "Stefan, Leo, lift her feet up." The two men in black came over and lifted her unresisting ankles so that her feet were on the seat of the chair. They used more silk scarves to tie them there, leaving her with her knees pointing up, her ankles touching her buttocks. Claire thought now that she must have been drugged in some way, possibly through the liquor. She was too compliant, too calm, and far too aroused. Her skirt was still tucked up around her waist, and with her ankles tied up against her buttocks, only the thin strip of fabric of her panties hid her sex from this veritable crowd of people and their room full of sex toys and devilish devices. Why then should she feel so eager? So excited? Eric's eyes lingered on her hungrily, and Madhuri finally had to take his shoulder and lead him back so Stefan and Leo could approach with two dildos in their hands. Their faces were blank, composed, entirely neutral as they held these obscene things and began to rub them over Claire's panties, sliding them over her pussy, her belly, her ass, running them snakelike over her lower body as she gasped and arched in the chair, her pussy suddenly flooding with moisture. It was terrible. Claire owned a couple of vibrators herself of course, and Eric had bought her any number of them, but she wasn't especially enamored of them, but now, seeing them being pushed over her body like this, like some sort of evil insects or devilish monsters, they set off an absolute flood of excitement within her, a desire to be pierced and penetrated, to be tied down, spread apart and used before these people as if she actively desired it—punctured and entered and impaled by this mad plastic, her cunt violated and shown up for the whore she was. She felt as though she'd been split into two people: one ruled by her brain fighting for her sanity and another ruled by her pussy trying to suck half the world inside and they were struggling for control of her while she herself could only sit there and watch helplessly, not even certain whom she wanted to win. Eric stood a few feet away, oblivious to this battle, leaning against a display counter and holding the clipboard, obviously at a loss for what to do with it, and Claire looked around despondently, realizing no one knew what was going on. No one but Madhuri, maybe. Madhuri seemed to know everything. She could tell from the look in her eyes. "Eric! This is embarrassing! Make them stop!" "Oh, come now," Madhuri said softly, directing Leo to carry a table out of the way. "Leo, wipe off her boots. We don't want her getting water on the velour." Claire felt Leo lift her feet and wipe her boots with a towel and she pulled feebly at the yellow silk scarves that held her wrists. It was such a handsome chair, Regency, yet she was displayed so lewdly upon it, no better than a whore, her blouse open, both cups of her bra down, the crotch of her panties stretched tight over the plane of her pussy. Stefan and Leo crouched at the foot of the chair, Stefan holding a dildo and Leo a vibrator against her panties, regarding her with cold, professional detachment. First Stefan would glide the long, segmented dildo against her crotch, pressing hard enough to cause it to push the fabric against her labia, teasing her, sawing it slowly back and forth, then he would slyly make it creep away beneath the hills of her buttocks as Leo passed the buzzing vibrator all the way around her thigh, dipping the dip inside her panties and wagging the tip over her aroused clit which tented the fabric of her tight panties, causing her to gasp out loud despite herself and make her clench her stomach hard, her mouth hanging open in shock at the overwhelming pleasure. "Her clitoris is quite sensitive," Madhuri remarked without taking her eyes from the girl. "You're aware of that, Eric?" "Er...yes. I'm always very careful." "Well, she might have had a clumsy lover before you who traumatized her. You'd be wise to be gentle. But come now, Eric. You needn't fool with that silly clipboard. Come and kiss her." He laid the clipboard down on the display case and came over to where Claire was panting in the chair, the long, smooth abductor muscles of her thighs flexing automatically in a vain attempt to close her legs. He tipped her head back and kissed her, his lips licking hers. Claire moaned, surrendering her mouth to his, and gave up the fight, her legs falling open. She shuddered, her fingers balling into fists against her palms. It was so terribly lewd to be used like this, kissed and fondled and played with, having these obscene toys run over her panties while she remained tied in this chair, spread and exposed for all to see. It was shame and it was pleasure, and it was shame again for her pleasure to be seen, to be witnessed—how easily she turned on and responded to the touch of the plastic devices, the men's touch, the homosexuals who didn't even care about her; their lewd curiosity about her cunt ands her plumbing, so demeaning, cheapening. She groaned, sighed and hummed into Eric's mouth, loving the feel of his harsh lips against her. "Tell me, Claire," Madhuri appeared at her side and slipped the nipple pump between Claire and Eric. She pressed it against Claire's naked tit and applied suction and it pulled at her nipple like a demented baby's mouth. Just a machine, but how riotously good it felt! "How do you feel now? Ashamed? Embarrassed?" Eric broke his kiss to allow her to answer. Claire's thighs were shaking and she was pulling at her bonds as she said, "Yes! Stop it! It's terrible! I don't like this! I don't like being used this way!" Eric looked concerned but Madhuri said, "Oh, I don't think that's quite the case. 'Used' is a nasty word. After all, we're pleasuring you and pleasuring ourselves. I think a part of you is quite excited to be seen like this, and yet a part of you is quite threatened that your real self will be seen, isn't it, Claire? A part of you doesn't want to lose that control." "No!" Claire said. "No, that's not true!" Madhuri pushed gently on the back of Eric's head, showing him he was to kiss her again, and he fell gladly to the task, consumed by hot emotion. He took Claire's hair in his hand and covered her mouth with his, bending her back so that her hips slid forward slightly on the chair till they ran into her bound ankles. The vibrator in Stefan's hand buzzed loudly, the hum being muffled as it slipped beneath Claire's thighs and buttocks, and Madhuri snapped her fingers down between Claire's spread legs as she watched Eric kiss her, trying to get Leo's attention. Leo picked up a curious instrument, a long, double-pronged dildo with a handle made of a clear plastic, one end shaped like a penis, the other thinner, intended for anal penetration. With the handle, the thing looked like a lyre or the frame for a kind of paddle with the top missing. Acting as a kind of traffic director, Madhuri pulled Eric away and brought Stefan forward so that Claire could see the two-headed crystal wand in his hand. Madhuri put her hand over Stefan's and guided him as she stroked the appliance gently over Claire's face and mouth, one way and then the other, caressing her with it. "This is going to enter you, Claire. It's going to enter your pussy and your ass and fill you up, stretch you nicely, and I think we'll have Eric suck your clit while we're doing that. Or would you rather suck him off? Perhaps you're more comfortable giving pleasure than receiving?" Claire couldn't answer. The scene had changed completely and yet only subtly—the Vivaldi still played—a different track now, the strings swelling with pregnant assonance—the fire still blazed, the steam still rose from the cups of coffee—but now she was sitting with her boots up on the seat of the chair and her ankles tied to the arms, her wrists bound to the ornate back, and Stefan and Leo knelt at her feet like servants as she sat in total dishabille in front of them, the crotch of her panties moist with the evidence of her own desire. It was humiliating; it was thrilling, liberating. The room shone with the gleam of soft fabrics. It was like being in a flower, a womb—sensual, almost cruelly sexual "God," Eric muttered, passing his hand over her body, her breasts, her belly. "She's such a whore!" "Now, Eric," Madhuri remonstrated. "You mean that in a good way, don't you?" But Claire hardly minded. What "good way"? Something was changing in her. Something was pulling free inside of her, becoming unstuck and spreading its wings, and it was something beyond good and evil, something that kissed but also bit, fucked but also stabbed, loved and murdered in equal amounts. Something delicious and dangerous—saliva and semen and milk and blood... "Shall I use the scissors, Madame?" David asked, and Madhuri shook her head. "No. I rather think she likes these panties, and she'll probably want them as a memento. And I think Claire would prefer being violated around them. What do you think, Eric?" "Yes, probably. She's always enjoyed being touched through her panties." "Oh no!" Claire gasped. "What are you going to do?" "Here. Let me." Madhuri slipped on a pair of latex gloves and took the double-headed dildo from Stefan. She opened a jar of expensive looking cream and greased it up, her hand moving sensuously over the clear plastic projections. "Eric, you may kiss her, caress her breasts, her body," Madhuri said as she moved in front of the bound girl. Stefan and Leo scooted out of the way and David stepped back, bending to pick up some of the empty boxes, ever mindful of the neatness of the place. "Eric, don't! Don't let them do this! What are you doing? This is rape! This is just rape!" "Oh really," he said. "It isn't as bad as all that, now." He put his arm around her and kissed her, brushing her hair out of her face. She resisted him at first, but it was all too much for her, sitting there with her legs up and exposed. His hand slid down her belly and under her panties, over her shaved mons and between her slick, shaved labia to the hood of her clit, bathed in a thick slime of female secretions. Claire groaned in anger and frustration at the way her body had betrayed her, but at the same time she just let herself go, let herself fall into victimhood. There was nothing she could do, no way she could resist, and then she felt Madhuri's thinner, surer fingers plucking at the sopping crotch band of her panties, pulling it to the side. She was aware of the other men standing there and her eyes sought them out, but they had assumed attitudes of haughty detachment, and she realized that once her pussy were penetrated she'd be of no more interest to them. She'd just be another piece of ass, a bitch, a fuck, no longer woman the ideal and homosexual icon. She was about to be humanized. She felt the cool hard plastic touch her vagina as Madhuri maneuvered the head into position and begin to press it inside. "No! Eric! Stop her! No!" There was love in his eyes, and there was something feral and violative as well; something male and possessive. My cock in you! My prick in your cunt, bitch! He didn't say a word, but she could see the excitement in his eyes as Madhuri bent over her. She squeezed her thighs, curled her toes, dug her nails into her palms, but the plastic penis pressed easily up into her pussy, opening her up and finding her ready. She was ashamed at the avidity with which her pussy gripped the thing, the great sense of hungry relief with which her body welcomed it. It shamed her, set her on fire with her own whorishness, and then Eric leaned over her and her tongue burst into his mouth with obscene gratitude, licking and lolling against his teeth as Madhuri pressed the thing into her. It felt heavenly, divine. Even the stream of her own juice that squeezed out of her cunt and ran down her ass felt divine. She felt piggish, filled, plugged, and satiated. "Yes, you like that, don't you, Claire? Yes, of course you do, of course you fucking do!" Madhuri hissed, holding Claire's panties to the side with one hand and gently twisting the dildo with the other. Claire groaned, closed her eyes, sucked at Eric's lips and tightened her toes in her boots. How wonderful it was to have a cunt! How wonderful to be filled with something, to have a man kissing her, to be watched by other men who admired and envied her pussy, that mysterious, pleasure-filled hole between her legs. She looked up at Madhuri, at that beautiful face filled with Eastern calm and wisdom and ferocious excitement as she plied the dildo into Claire's wonderfully stuffed cunt, and she looked at the men, at handsome Leo, enigmatic Stefan, surly David, her own Eric. He was hard too. She could see the bulge in the front of his pants. All of them were fascinated with her, concentrated on her, on the stream of her own liquid spilling from her cunt, on her nipples standing rigidly up from her tits which trembled from her frantic breathing. Goddess Within She was tied, trapped, whored-out; spread open and made a spectacle of and it was divine. Her body quaked and shuddered. Her face flushed red with hot blood as if a spotlight were on her. Slut! Whore! Cunt! Tramp! She was everything and it was all true and it was glorious. Searing, humiliating, liberating, glorious Madhuri bent, her sweet tongue came out and was caught between her teeth as she concentrated, using her other hand to place the smaller probe at the entrance to Claire's anus. "No! Oh no! No! Not that!" She arched against the chair, shoving the toes of her boots together. Madhuri ignored her. The small piece was well greased and slid in easily and with an almost nauseating thrill that snaked up her spine make her nipples instantly hard and her scalp tingle as if it had been set aflame. Oh God! My ass! My ass! Her anus was terribly sensitive and pleasure there was something that fascinated and frightened her, yet now here she was, double penetrated in front of all these people, the plastic extension working its way into her like a coiled spring. She clenched her eyes shut and remained motionless as the thing slid up inside her and she held absolutely still, not even breathing. Then it began to move. Madhuri began to move the whole assembly in and out, slowly, not very far, as if it were huge and weighed several tons, but for Claire it was like her entire insides were moving, as if the earth and the stars were moving, and she tore her mouth from Eric's to groan. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" That seemed to be some sort of signal for Leo and Stefan to relax. They both sat down, Leo on a table, Stefan on a divan, while David picked up some tissue paper and threw it in an empty box. Eric's kisses became deeper and more passionate and his hands crushed and massaged her breasts as Madhuri stood and very conscientiously worked the double dildo in and out of Claire's pussy and ass. "Oh my God! Oh Eric I don't believe it! Oh my God!" "There's this and more," Madhuri said. "This and more, so much more. I want you now to touch yourself, Claire. That's all. Just touch yourself." David came to the chair and untied her right hand and Madhuri carefully eased the dildo out of Claire's body. She held it up, her arms crossed, and Eric backed away, looking at Claire. Claire gasped and fought back a sob. She felt suddenly empty, hollow, as if everything had drained out of her. The air from the room seemed suddenly cold on her puckered anus, and her pussy felt alone and exposed. "I...can't," she said. "Really. I just can't." Eric looked dumbfounded but no one else changed expression. Madhuri took Claire's hand and put it on her pussy. She pressed her fingers into it. "That's all," she said. "That's all you have to do." "Oh God! I can't! I just can't!" Madhuri looked at her. "All right. I thought it might come to this. Eric, do I have your permission?" Eric sighed. "Yes." "David, get the pony. Leo, Stefan, untie her and take her clothes off. Then get the drop cloths. We have something for you to try, Claire..." "To try...?" she looked at Madhuri in bewilderment as Stefan and Leo untied the other scarves and pulled her to her feet. Standing, her clothes suddenly fell around her in a mess, her blouse open, bra askew, skirt tangled up around her waist. The two men began taking her clothes off, undressing her as if she were a child. She put up no resistance, even helped slightly as if it were years ago and her mother were getting her ready for a bath. The two black-clad men stood her and removed her blouse and her bra, unfastened her skirt and unzipped her boots as Eric paced back and forth, pinching his lip, lost in thought. "You're sure this is a good idea?" he asked. "Oh, it's certainly worth a try," Madhuri said. "Claire's quite clearly in an erotic state. She's amenable to anything, and really, we're asking so little." Her clothes slipped from her body and soon she was quite naked except for her stockings. They removed her garter belt and panties, and each garment was neatly folded and packed between tissue paper by the ever-vigilant David, who discretely glanced at the labels as he did so. Claire felt a pique of irritation at this but dismissed it. The whole thing was absurd after all—her nakedness, the clothed men, the insistence on her touching herself, her sexual excitement. What did it all mean? What were they doing here? Madhuri slipped off her jacket as well, and Claire couldn't help but be impressed by her lovely arms, the feminine set of her shoulders and the full thrust of her breasts. She truly was an attractive woman in every way, the way she looked, the way she acted, even in her form and the way she moved. She possessed a deep femininity that touched Claire and made her both envious and proud that the woman was paying her such close attention. Compared to Madhuri, even the sophisticated Eric seemed like something of a rustic. David had retreated to the back of the shop and now emerged with what looked like a white saddle with brown ends, or a half a barrel split longitudinally with a short metal protrusion that stuck up on the convex side. She didn't need to be told what it was. Leo and Stefan had opened up sturdy plastic tarps and spread them over the rugs and furniture, then dropped a piece of black plywood fixed with screw eyes over that, and David placed the barrel down in the middle of the plywood panel. Claire was starting to feel chilly and reached for her cup of coffee when Madhuri rudely took it from her and poured in a stiff shot of Bailey's, warmed it up with coffee, and thrust it back to her. "Enjoy," she said. Everyone seemed to know just what they were doing now. David plugged the saddle—which Claire had decided was the aforementioned "pony"—into the wall, and Stefan and Leo took a leather belt from a drawer in a display case and buckled it around her naked waist. Then each man affixed a leather cuff to her wrist as she stood there, her bare breasts jiggling slightly, and watched them with vacant attention. "Eric, why don't you have some coffee and calm down," Madhuri suggested. "We know what we're doing. Come here, darling—" she held out her hand to Claire. Moving as if in a dream, Claire took her hand and Madhuri led her over to the pony. Madhuri unwrapped the cellophane from a latex dildo and snapped it onto the metal protrusion and then wiped some lube onto it and smiled, then made her stand over it. Claire already knew what it was, and she stared down at the upthrust dildo with mild curiosity. The alcohol, the mood, the entire ambience and sense of why she'd come were now working on her and it seemed silly to resist any longer. They all knew who she was and why she was here. She was naked before them in her stockings with this thick belt with the silver rings, her nipples glowing red from the suction of the pump, the grease from the lube still limning her pussy and thighs. Eric watched her from not five feet away. Madhuri made a small joke about not losing her balance as she lowered her down and Claire smiled, brushing her hair back from her face, and then Leo and Stefan were strapping her down to the board with bungee cords, attaching one end to the board, one end to the eyes in the belt, securing her in place over the dildo so that it touched her, touched her pussy, the touch electric. She could feel the power in it already, some latent hum of unseen motors. The body of the pony was velour. "The thing is," Madhuri was saying, "Is that it's not wrong to touch yourself. It's not obscene, it's not embarrassing as long as you're not embarrassed. When you want it enough, you'll do it. And I think this is going to make you want it. Sit on it, Claire." Claire lowered herself gingerly on top of the dildo, spreading her pussy apart with her fingers. It wasn't too wide; it slid in easily. Still, this position, with her on top, made her gasp and fall forward, bracing her hands on the pommel of the thing as it entered her. Eric took a step towards her as if to help her but stopped as Claire caught herself and rotated her hips to ease the thing into her. "Ohhh," she moaned. "It's good." Stefan and Leo stepped closer, their arms folded, watching. David brushed his hair back from his eyes and watched also, the three of them forming a semi-circle around the squatting girl as if she were some beggar in the street performing some act for the passersby. Madhuri picked up the controller, which was a rather large box, and held it in her left hand, cocking her left elbow against her hip. "Stefan, Leo. Do her breasts." The men got down on their knees and Claire watched as they leaned forward and gently took her tits in their hands and began to lick and suck her nipples, their eyes closing in pleasure. She hadn't expected this. They were obviously gay men and she hadn't thought they'd get involved, but apparently even gay men could still feel that atavistic love for a woman's breasts, for they closed their eyes and their nostrils flared in lusty excitement as they inhaled the fragrance of her body and their soft, muscular tongues traced rough circles around her areolas, going the same direction, it turned out—clockwise to Claire, and her head seemed to reel in the same direction as Stefan's teeth turned greedy and began to gnaw teasingly at her nipple. A sigh of pleasure burst bubble-like from her lips and she had t resist the urge to caress the men's necks, but Eric was standing right nearby—Eric her lover, who had paid for all this, watching her now degenerate into whorishness and the sensual slavery of her body's demands. "I'll start slowly," Madhuri said, and with no more of a warning than that, the dildo within Claire's pussy began to twist and spin, the soft subtle nubs catching on her swollen, nerve-laden flesh and beginning to whip her copiously flowing fluids into a lather of urgent foam, the sleeve of the dildo separating slightly from its metal form due to the centrifugal motion and becoming fatter, stouter. "Oh, it's good!" she repeated. "It's good, it's good." It was all she could say. It was all her world was reduced to—goodness inside her, primitive, mindless pleasure in the deep, crude, most basic part of her, the core of her sex, the hole inside her, her female hollowness. She looked down at the men's faces as they nursed at her breasts, sucking up some divine nectar from her innards—handsome faces, powerful and strong, taking pleasure from her. All of this—this place, this room, it was all engineered for her, the electricity ran through the pony and stimulated her cunt and the pleasure ran through her body and blossomed at her tits and the men drank from her as if she were a fountain. It was a divine symmetry, something cosmic and right Madhuri placed the controlled on the floor and pressed down on Claire's naked shoulders, pushing her down on the dildo, and now Claire became aware of another mechanism at the base of the pony, a squeezing, vibrating pair of velour covered jaws that drew at her labia while a soft feathery wheel spun skittishly at her clit. Madhuri pulled the straps that held her waist band taut, forcing her more firmly against the device till it was making intimate contact with her vagina, the whole of her sex being strummed and massaged and penetrated and machined, then she picked up the controller and adjusted some knobs so that the tempo increased and savage spasms of pleasure began to whip through Claire's body. "Oh!" Claire cried. "It's too much! Madhuri! It's too much!" "Isn't it though?" The Indian woman answered with a smile. Then, under her breath she sighed like a cat licking itself. "What a gorgeous girl she is, Eric! Simply beautiful!" She picked up a crop from one of the tables and began to deftly spank Claire's ass. Stefan and Leo continued sucking her breasts, carefully avoiding bumping heads, and the pony began to actually gallop, the entire saddle starting to move her like a mechanical bull, heaving and lurching slowly on its base, tossing her gently with a billowy rhythm. Claire put her head back, her moan of sheer pleasure cut short as the whip landed on her ass and splashed her with pain. "You see, Claire? You see?" Madhuri asked. "Here you are being sucked by two men, penetrated by this most diabolical machine, and now being whipped by another woman. If you ever had cause for shame or embarrassment, it would most certainly be now. Yet how do you feel, my dear? How do you feel?" Claire was speechless. Thoughts of embarrassment were the farthest thing from her mind as she presented her pussy to the working of the pony and let her breasts be suckled by the two men and took the bright dashes of pain on her buttocks. It was just heaven, some sort of confused heaven of sensorial bliss. But it was more than that too, being given all this lewd attention, being made the center of this obscene spectacle. Madhuri again placed the controller on the floor and got down on her knees in front of Claire. It was crowded there now with Stefan and Leo on their knees bent over her breasts and Madhuri joining them. The pony kept Claire a head higher than Madhuri, but the rhythmic rocking of the device made her appear as if she were galloping on a horse with a lazy rhythm as the others crowded around and ministered to her. Without hesitating, Madhuri took Claire's face in her hands and kissed her, running her delicate tongue over the girl's lips to test Claire's readiness, then took her mouth in a full kiss, her arms going around Claire's naked back, making the two men relinquish their grip on her breasts and duck out of the way. "Mmmm, mmmmm!" The sounds of the women's sighs of pleasure were audible over the humming of the machinery. Leo and Stefan exchanged sour looks and crawled out of the way. It was obvious their boss would have her way now, and the two women's hands now searched through each other's hair, pressing their heads together as the pony hummed and buzzed. "Eric, Eric!" Madhuri called, breaking the kiss. "Give her your cock. Give her your cock now in her mouth. Boys, back at her breasts. Untie her from the machine." Eric looked confused, uncertain what to do with these men around, but the sight of Claire in such a state of arousal was more than he could stand, and he came up to her and quickly opened his pants and took out his cock. Stefan and Leo unsnapped the bungee cords holding Claire to the platform and by the time Eric had his cock out, they'd gone back to sucking her tits, and Claire leaned forward and hungrily sucked his prick into her mouth. "Oh Christ!" he moaned. He grabbed her hair to lift it out of the way so he could see her face as his cock entered her mouth. "Oh, Christ, yes, Claire! Suck it! Suck that fucking cock, baby!" Claire sucked hard, her cheeks hollowing, a look of bliss on her face. It was as if she were talking communion, something holy, ineffable, the soul of her lover. She held Eric's prick in one hand and with the other caressed Stefan's head as he nursed at her left breast. The pony continued to hum and buck and her hips continued to ride easy with it, milking every bit of satisfaction from the heaving machine, and a strange silence fell upon the little group, the motors humming, the rest of them sighing or moaning or slurping with hydraulic pleasure. Suddenly the pony died, stopped dead. The mechanical humming stopped. Claire groaned. Her protest registered around Eric's cock and she turned her eyes to Madhuri. "I'm sorry," Madhuri said. "But that's all. Here, try this." The Indian woman held up a rabbit vibrator with the wicked little appendage designed for clitoral stimulation, then lifted Claire up bodily by the elbows so that the dildo slipped disappointingly out of her pussy. Claire felt distraught and cheated as the pony's magical dildo left her pussy. She refused to take the rabbit. She knew what she'd have to do with it. "No!" she said petulantly, "I can't!" "Oh please! That's quite enough of that, Claire, honestly! Now here!" Madhuri pushed the vibrator into her mouth to coat it with saliva, then reached down and worked it between Claire's swollen and still-greasy pussy lips. At once she turned it on and it sprang wickedly to life, humming and rattling as the balls began spinning inside it. Madhuri pressed it into her and Claire groaned deeply, shamed at her body's eager acceptance and her own juvenile behavior "Now fuck her, Eric!" Madhuri cried. "Fuck her goddamned mouth! She's not made of sugar!" It seemed to be the signal Eric had been waiting for. He wrapped his hands in her hair and began to fuck her mouth with hard, sure strokes, his cock so stiff and erect that his balls seemed detached, hanging far below like counterweights. He sent his prick sliding deep within her lips, the muscles of his stomach clenching like steel springs, his sudden male wrath surfacing like a broaching whale. Claire grabbed onto his thighs for balance, tucked her lips over her teeth. "Slow!" Madhuri said. "Make her enjoy it, damn it!" Eric slowed down, the strain of his control obvious in the way his legs shuddered, running his cock in and out of her semi-slack mouth as the saliva spilled over her lower lip. He fucked her steadily, smoothly, the centerpiece in the triangle of men who worked over her body, and as he did so, Claire's fingers finally reached down for the rabbit that Madhuri held in place between her legs. The slow, sizzling excitement was more than she could stand. If she were being used by these three men and this woman like this, she was going to be a part of it too, she decided. She took the vibrator in hand and was about to use it, when she froze. "Oh for God's sake!" Madhuri exclaimed. "This is unbelievable. Eric, that's enough! Stefan, Leo, take him." Eric looked at her in disbelief. If she thought he was going to stop now, she was crazy. He began to ram his prick into Claire's mouth with a vengeance, the muscles in his jaw standing out as he clenched his teeth. He was close, much too excited to stop, and he didn't give a fuck any more whether Claire touched her damned pussy or not. He intended to get off in her mouth. When Stefan stood up and took hold of his arm he just rudely shoved the little homo aside, totally unprepared for the way Stefan grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm up behind his back. Leo suddenly bounced to his feet as if he were on springs, caught Eric under his right armpit and pinched him in a way that sent a jolt of paralyzing electricity rocketing through his body and made him forget about everything. The room spun. "Jesus fucking Christ!??" Claire gave a little scream of alarm and Eric spun around once and then found himself on his back staring up through a swarming haze of red and black, his pants around his ankles, his cock still throbbing. Stefan was standing over him holding him in a wristlock and Leo and David were wrapping a kind of black plastic tape around his wrists. "What are you doing to him? What is this?" Claire cried. Eric was rather curious himself, but didn't have the wits to ask at the moment. "You don't understand, Claire. I don't think you even understand the basics here, the basic ideas behind sex, so I think we're just going to have to act them out for you. I'm sorry we had to overpower Eric, but he was a bit far gone, beyond the point of recall. I don't think they damaged him too much, did they Eric? They're quite expert at what they do. Are you all right, there, Eric?" She looked down at him and David and Stefan paused in their binding His head was rapidly clearing now and his sense of wounded pride was somewhat assuaged by the knowledge that he'd been handled by men of obvious expertise, coolly and efficiently. They'd simply hit his 'off' switch and that had been it, and they'd done it once; they could easily do it again. His body told him as much. They might be as gay as they wished. They were also terribly lethal. Goddess Within "Yeah. I'm okay. Christ! What did you do to me?" "Stefan and Leo are licensed acupressurists as well as tai chi masters. They did something with your chi I'm sure neither of us would understand. I apologize but it was necessary because we had to stop you. We're going to have to try something more extreme, and for that we have to tie you up. I hope that's acceptable." "Yes," Leo gave a little bow of his head. "Please accept my apology as well." Madhuri stood up and started unbuttoning her blouse and pulling from her skirt. She had a body that looked like it was molded from desert sand dunes and moonshadow. "You're going to be involved?" Eric asked She looked at him with eyes that were wonderfully open and honest. "If you don't mind," she asked, as if she actually thought that he might. "No," he said from the floor, where David and Stefan still had hold of his wrists. "No. I don't mind. I think it's a wonderful idea. I really do. Go ahead. Tie me up." "Put in him in the Louis Sixteenth chair," Madhuri said as she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. Her bra and panties were ash gray, her skin showed through her underwear and she had a mole on the inner slope of her right breast that was like God's special seal of approval. "Use seven wraps of the tape." She turned to Claire. "Come here, dear. Bring your toy. Sit in this chair where he can see you. You'll be close to him then, but not too close. Not ten feet apart." As Claire approached Madhuri took her by the arm and lowered her voice Claire shuddered at the older woman's touch. "This tape we're using is really not that secure," she whispered. "A man as strong as Eric can break it if he's suitably motivated. By now you must be terribly aroused, just dying for it, aren't you? As is he. As am I, for that matter. All you have to do is make him want you enough to break his bonds and come and get you, you understand? That's why you're going to touch yourself, Claire. That's the real reason. Ultimately, that's the only reason. To pleasure yourself and to drive him crazy with wanting you. That's why Eric wants you to touch yourself and that's why you're going to touch yourself, because you're just so damned aroused that you can't resist. You're going to seduce him with your masturbation, show him what he's missing, show him what you have for him, show him what a whore you are for him, what a slut, what a hot little cunt you are. Now sit!" She pushed Claire down onto a love seat as the men pulled Eric to his feet and started pulling his clothes off him, a sensation he found most uncomfortable, but they were as professional about making him naked as they were about making him unconscious, and soon enough they had him undressed. Whenever he felt his erection starting to fade, all he had to do was look over at Claire who was watching him with a dead flat gaze as if she'd been hypnotized, her only sign of life the way she squeezed her knees together every so often as if she could stem the flood of moisture between her legs or absentmindedly ran the vibrator along her lower lip as she watched what they were doing to her lover. They plopped Eric down into the medallion-backed chair and Leo took the role of black tape from David and helped Stefan bind Eric's wrists to the arms of the chair—exactly seven turns. They then passed some tape around his chest and waist to secure his trunk to the chair and bent to secure his shins to the legs as David walked over to where Madhuri was sprawled out on a divan, her back against one end, watching the proceedings and pulling the pins from her hair, looking amused and tigerish. She shook her mane loose, her hair the color of wrought iron, then reached down and arched her back as she slid her panties down off her hips. "Now watch me, Claire. See what's so damned difficult about this!" She put on foot on the floor and left her other leg extended on the sofa, slid her hand down her body till it was at her pussy, and she began to stroke herself. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened and her other hand came up to massage her breast through the sheer bra she still wore. Eric watched. Claire watched. David watched. Stefan and Leo finished binding Eric's legs to the chair and they turned to watch as well. Madhuri was no doubt acting, exaggerating the pleasure she felt, but she was still a mesmerizing sight, a woman pleasuring herself openly, oblivious to the people watching her. David moved to the end of the sofa and leaned on it so he could see her better. What was it? That her sex was normally out of sight and hidden and that she had to go in eager pursuit of it? Was that what made her masturbation so arousing, so forbidden? Or was it this woman—Madhuri—her natural sense of power and authority, seeing her cast them aside in the grip of a lust so great it couldn't be denied? She began to move her hips, her stomach clenching, the muscles trembling as she brought her pussy up to meet her curious fingers. The sleek muscles in her legs tightened too, shadowy hollows forming on the insides of her thighs where she urged her pelvis up as if she were pushing her cunt up into their faces, daring them to do something about her wickedness. And then she stopped. Turned it off. Broke the spell. She looked at Claire accusingly, then at Eric, then at Claire again. Claire took a deep breath through her nose. Madhuri's sexuality hung in the air like smoke from a fire and she could almost smell it, like musk and sandalwood. She sat up straight and turned her head so her reddish-brown hair covered her face. Her knees were still together so that even though she was naked except for her shoes and stockings, her face and her sex were hidden. Without a word her right hand reached into her lap and sunk between her legs. It began to move, to churn gently. Eric could see her hand moving and the muscles in her arm and shoulder flexing but that was all, and the room was very still. Ridiculous—him taped into this chair, Leo and Stefan still on their knees some feet away, watching Claire. Madhuri and David watching and nothing happening but her hand moving in her crotch. Is that what all this had been about? And then her body started to move, to sway with the movement of her hand as Claire increased the pressure or found the right rhythm, made some sort of connection with herself. He shifted in his seat as much as he was able, and from Claire came a small sound, a plea to herself, a plea to them, he couldn't tell. She lifted her face and he saw the torment of pleasure on her face and blood suddenly surged into his cock. "That's it," Madhuri said. "Ohhh," Claire moaned. "That's it!" Claire scooted her ass forward on the loveseat and parted her thighs slightly. She had room now to lean back against the cushions and this she did, her stomach pumping like a bellows as he fingers dug at her pussy, and as she opened her legs, Eric could see the gleam of wetness, of fleshy pinkness and vulnerability—her wound, her female openness. "Jesus!" he muttered. Claire heard him dimly. She was aware of them, aware of them all, that they were watching her touch herself, and she felt like the worst sort of slut, and yet with that came this wonderful feeling of liberation, like now she could be just as bad as she wanted to be, because now it didn't matter. She was playing now, playing as Madhuri had, making a whore of herself, so what did she care. She was aware especially of the other men in the room, the two men on their knees—Leo and Stefan—they were playing too, presenting themselves as harmless boytoys when they were really trained muscle, and David, who also seemed so obviously gay but who was now getting ready to fuck Madhuri, she was certain of it. They were all playing. Why shouldn't she play too? She opened her legs and stole a glance at Eric. Is this what you want? This pussy? You want to see me play with it for you? You want to see me get it all wet and juicy for you? Fuck myself for you? Yeah, I can do that. I can do that, baby. It's easy. Easy! Watch me, Eric. Watch me! She slid her finger inside herself, pummeling her clit with the pad of her middle finger. Next to her David was down on his knees, his face between Madhuri's legs, eating her as her hips ground luridly against his face and her red-painted nails pulled at her nipples through her bra. Leo and Stefan, sensing their work was about finished, were kneeling comfortably on the floor, exchanging glances and watching Eric, who was growing redder by the minute. Claire knew what she needed to do. She opened herself up with one hand and slid the buzzing rabbit inside with the other, lifting her feet up onto the divan and spreading her knees wide so that Eric could get a good, clear look. It was an insane, rapturous thrill, lewd and liberating, exalting and degrading at the same time. At once she lost the dignity of being a person and became a sex object, and at the same time she threw off the crushing responsibility of being a good girl and knew the freedom of being a whore. And on top of all this, she had the pure satisfaction of hearing Eric's strangled cry: "Oh Jesus fucking Christ, Claire!" Even in her rapture she couldn't stop the smile that split her face. She'd done it! She'd fucking done it! Snap! Pop! Crack! She turned startled eyes on Eric and watched in amazement as he popped the bands of tape like so much tissue paper, his face set in a look of fierce determination. His muscles bulged and gleamed with sweat as he levered his arms away from the chair, his cock standing up like a flagpole, his face red with effort. The tape over his chest stretched and snapped and fell away like spaghetti and then he tore the tape from his legs and suddenly he was upon her, and Claire was almost faint with excitement. She'd never seen anything so arousing in her entire life, her man turned into a testosterone-crazed King Kong for her, breaking through the chains that held him. Stefan and Leo quickly got up and left the room. Claire could hear Madhuri getting fucked by David but she paid it no attention because Eric was suddenly there looking twice his normal size and he grabbed her hair as if he owned her and tilted her head back for his savage, demanding kiss. He pushed her hand away from the vibrator and then he took over as if he owned her pussy too, pulled the thing from her body and replaced it with his own fingers as he kissed her. His fingers didn't vibrate. They didn't have little balls inside that spun around and they didn't have a special attachment designed to stimulate her clit, but they were real, live, warm, human fingers that wanted her like crazy, and they possessed her utterly as they pressed inside her and Claire felt completely taken. She yielded to his kiss, yielded to his hand; when his arm went around her she yielded to his strength as he pulled her from the divan and carried her over to a fainting couch that was on a riser, meant to be part of a display. "Eric, Eric!" She didn't know what she wanted to say but she felt like she had to slow him down. But she was on fire and all she wanted was to be fucked, used, spread apart and entered. She'd been a bad girl and had asked for it and this was her just reward. He was massively hard, his body swollen and pumped with hot blood, and no sooner had he dropped her on the fainting couch than he was on his knees between her legs and, holding her head in his hands and kissing her, stabbing at her with his cock and then entering her, sliding into her like some irresistible object, all defenses battered down and shoved aside under the pure fervor of his lust. He held himself over her on his outstretched arms and plunged into her in a seemingly endless fall, dizzying and perfect, spreading her open so that she enveloped him and was his. Across from them Eric could see Madhuri arching up under David's vicious thrusts. One of her feet was on the floor, the other hooked over the top of the sofa, and she used that leg to pull herself up on to his impaling brick as her nails dug into his pale ass. They were insane. All of them were insane, but he would have the last word, the last gesture. Working his knees forward, he managed to lift himself so he was kneeling erect, Claire's ass on his thighs. He took her hand and placed it over her clit and she knew what he wanted her to do. She didn't resist anymore. She was too close and the reward was too dear. Hands didn't matter and touching didn't matter. Pride didn't matter and her self respect didn't matter. All that mattered was pleasing him so much that he came, that he lost himself inside of her, disgorged himself inside her in a wreck of orgasm. All that mattered was that he destroy himself inside her, punch himself into her as he filled his eyes with the shocking spectacle of what she was doing for him, and so she did it. She masturbated as he fucked her. She rubbed herself. She did what he wanted even though she hardly felt it. She hardly felt it but she felt him, felt him as he expanded inside her, as he grabbed her waist and gripped her tight, pulled her against him, let his head fall back and with a feral moan opened himself up, opened up the valves of his soul and poured his searing heat into her, flooding her with the liquid frenzy of his ineffable touch. From the divan, Madhuri pulled David's head to the side and absently caressed his hair as she watched Eric pitch his come into Claire's quivering body. She hummed with pleasure at the way the girl's body seemed to draw in on itself with every lunge her lover made, as if each jet of release were a blow to her body. "Up, David," she said softly. "Get us a drink, love? The Jameson? And bring me my Shetland shawl?" David sighed deeply. He still wore his shirt and tie, his pants were around his ankles, and from the way he moved, he was not a man who enjoyed being in disarray. He got up and shuffled awkwardly to the bathroom and disappeared inside to wash himself off and Madhuri rearranged herself on the sofa, reached over to the coffee table and took a slim cigar from the rosewood humidor. She lit it with an onyx lighter, filled her mouth with the rich, fragrant smoke and blew a plume towards the ceiling just as Eric shoved his hips one final time into Claire and expended the last of his lust into her, then collapsed on top of her, both of them panting and gaspng for breath. For a while she sat there smoking as the two lovers kissed and caressed, Claire weeping softly, overcome with emotion, then David exited the bathroom with his clothes arranged and came back in a moment with a glass of whiskey on ice and a fine woolen shawl which he spread over Madhuri's shoulders and breasts. Madhuri took the whiskey and sipped it, letting the liquor pool on the center of her tongue and then trickle down her throat with the taste of cigar in a delicious, sensual mixture much too complex to be analyzed. She was much too refined to say anything about what had just happened there between them all. "There you are," she said. "David will show you to the showers, and Claire, perhaps you would like to wear some of your new things. Eric, I think you brought a change of clothes? Goddess Within would, of course, be most grateful if you'd take a moment to fill out a customer satisfaction card, but it's not necessary. You can do it next time you're here." Claire peeked around Eric and looked at her. "Well of course I expect there to be a next time," Madhuri said with a subtle smile. "This was just the beginning." She stood up, pulled her shawl around her shoulders and threw back her drink. Goose bumps washed over her shoulders and breasts and her skin took on a ruddy, fresh glow. The smile that radiated from her face was one of pure happiness and self-satisfaction. She came and kissed Eric on the cheek, then kissed Claire lovingly on the mouth, her lips lingering just a bit too long. She released her and looked into her eyes and laughed with soft delight, her eyes shining "Believe me, Claire, you've just begun to experience what we have to offer. Come back and see us, and come back often."