4 comments/ 22074 views/ 10 favorites Aviation By: Tapsalteerie Funny, isn't it, what you pick up from the atmosphere around you? There I am, minding my own business -- and giving thanks for the empty seat next to me -- when the drinks trolley approached. And instead of the usual plasticized and practiced smiles being dispensed left and right, there was very clearly some animosity crackling between the angels of mercy who were about to serve the drinks. And what crackling it was. Bags of peanuts (about four in each -- why do they bother?) were not passed across the trolley but positively hurled; it wasn't just the rattle of bottles that announced the approach of alcohol -- the clipped, hissing conversation between the crew members resonated for rows around. So it was with more than mild interest I looked up as the bar reached my row. And believe me -- I was glad I did. For the vision that beheld my eyes was nothing short of stunning. Wearing a nameplate advising all and sundry that her name was "C. Morgan", the first of the adversaries, stopped next to me -- and this must have been my lucky day. Why? Because standing before me, looking slightly harassed was a true vision of beauty. About 5 foot 10 -- but looking taller because of the 3-inch court heels she was wearing -- "C. Morgan" epitomised everything I looked for in a woman. Her dark hair was drawn tightly back from her forehead but tendrils were escaping around the nape of her neck; the slightest sheen of sweat glistened on her upper lip. Her dark eyes were flashing anger as she smiled professionally at me and offered me a drink. "I hope it's not ME that's upset you", I ventured. "No" came the response. "I'm having something of a -- let's call it a 'professional disagreement' -- with my colleague. Now, sir -- what can I do for you?" That was the wrong question to ask! Or at least, as I looked beyond "C Morgan's" face, the thoughts that were running through my mind had nothing to do with what she could do for me on the plane. Well actually, they did, but I was guessing that she'd want to keep her job! This woman, as I've already started to indicate, had the appearance of an angel. Well -- let's make that a fallen angel. With fire in her eyes and flushed complexion above the stiff collar of her white satin blouse, this was clearly a lady of some spirit. Trying not to be obvious about it, I let my eyes travel the length of her body -- and what a body. Magnificent breasts, with clearly engorged nipples peaking the cloth that covered them; a nipped waist with a tightly belted skirt; legs that looked -- from the knee down, at least -- as though they should be advertising hosiery -- this woman was ALL woman. And, as she crouched gracefully in that way that only air hostesses can achieve, I saw -- or thought I saw -- the line of a suspender as her skirt was pulled taught against her thigh. Stockings, too....ahh, be still, my raging groin! So, equipped with drink, I sat back and tried to concentrate on my book. But as the trolley moved on, I caught a glimpse of the fellow crew member. And she, too, was very beautiful. And she, too, was clearly agitated. She didn't serve me, but as she passed a drink to the passenger in the row ahead, I could see that her hands were trembling and, despite her professional smile, that she was deeply unhappy. With her face half-turned towards me, I could see the deep flush in her cheeks and the moistness in the corner of her eye. This lady was someone who must have barely met the airline's height requirements. Even with heels, she stood only around 5 foot 6. Clad identically to "C Morgan", I could only harbour dreams that she was wearing stockings too. And I wondered what the issue was between these two.... I must have nodded off for a while -- well, it was a long flight, and I'd had a few! -- because next time I looked around, it was dark. And the slight figure of the second of the girls who'd been serving the drinks was taking my empty glass from the tray in front of me. I don't know what prompted me to ask, but I said to her almost immediately my eyes opened -- "are you okay?" For some reason, instead of simply looking sideways at a complete stranger who had asked a somewhat personal question, she simply looked at me and mutely shook her head. Her long braid, reaching almost to her waist, swung back and forth a couple of times and then -- to my utter astonishment -- her shoulders began to heave with quiet sobs. What's a guy to do? There's something about helpless female tears that really pushes buttons in me (there's something about helpless females, too, but more about that later) so I took her hand in both of mine, and asked her to sit down and tell me about it. And do you know what? She did. And what she told me made the ancient knight in shining armour buried somewhere inside me want to leap on his horse and ride into battle on her behalf. "C Morgan" had taken one or two liberties, to say the least. You see, my new seat-mate was new with the airline (let's call her Susie) and "C Morgan" had apparently told here that all crew baggage had to be searched before travel. "C Morgan" was a nosy bugger -- there was no such rule -- but Susie was humiliated when the search was conducted and her array of "toys" was revealed before the entire crew.... As we talked, I began to feel more and more that "C Morgan" needed to be taught a lesson or two. So I asked Susie a few questions -- how many crew members were in the aft galley; what the crew rest area was like -- and how long we still had to go before the crew were expected to make their next, breakfast-before-landing, round of the cabin. And as Susie talked to me, a plan began to unfold in my mind. Leaning closer to her, I first outlined, and then sketched in detail, of a way in which Susie might have her revenge on "C Morgan". Of course I was not motivated purely by altruism -- I'd begun to have some pretty specific thoughts about Ms. Morgan (Charlotte, apparently) myself.... Which is why, 15 minutes later, I found myself in the galley at the rear of the plane. Susie had drawn the curtains that separated the galley from the main cabin and the crew rest area was just beside us. I'd tossed around a few ideas about how to make this work, but in the end, decided that brute force was as good a plan as any.... Charlotte was seated on the jump seat, turned slightly away from me. With no preamble whatsoever, I walked up to her and grabbed the two-tone blue silk scarf knotted around her neck -- and twisted. Immediately beginning to gasp and choke, Charlotte was yanked irresistibly to her feet and propelled into the bathroom at the rear of the plane. Placing my knee in the small of her back and still holding tight to the scarf around her neck, I forced her to bend forward in front of me. The total shock of being assaulted by a complete stranger -- together with the fact that she couldn't breathe very well -- meant that Charlotte wasn't putting up much resistance and, taking the plasticuffs that Susie had given me from the store kept to subdue unruly passengers, I brutally lashed Charlottes wrists together behind her. The plastic bit deeply into her flesh as she began to writhe and wriggle; to try to turn to face her assailant -- but being immobilised already, there was no way back. The first phase of Susie's revenge was simple. Charlotte had humiliated her by using toys -- so Susie wanted to use toys on Charlotte. And you should know at this point that Susie is no angel -- her range of toys was impressive, to say the least! -- so there were plenty of options to choose from. Back to the bathroom. Picture the scene, if you will -- a broad-shouldered, strongly built guy has at least restrained this beautiful woman, and has her bent double at the waist facing away from him. In their struggle, her uniform has become somewhat dishevelled -- her blouse has untucked and, with one knee on the closed toilet seat, her skirt has begun to rise up. But she still had too much freedom of movement, and was making WAY too much noise. Both of those things had to stop. One of the recent innovations in aircraft -- designed for families, but now put to much earthier use -- is a fold-down tray for changing babies. Standing Charlotte upright again for a moment, I lowered this tray and forced her forward over it. I took my already-loosened tie and used this, looped around her neck, to keep her in place over the tray -- and was able to let go of her for a moment. That noise, though -- I hadn't thought of a gag. But then -- she wasn't going to be needing much in the way of underwear as this developed, was she? So I unzipped her skirt and as it dropped to the floor, ripped her French knickers away in one movement. I crammed the wadded-up material into her mouth, blessedly eliminating the yelps she'd been emitting. Susie was standing in the doorway, and now that I'd subdued Charlotte, squeezed into the toilet beside me. With no preamble whatsoever, she cracked her open palm against Charlotte's beautifully formed ass -- hard enough to raise a distinct hand print. And having raised that handprint once, Susie was goaded into repeating the experiment -- again, and again, and again. All the while, as the rhythmic slap against these beautiful cheeks persisted, I held Charlotte tightly by the scarf round her neck -- but now, becoming very aroused myself, kicked her feet apart and thrust my fingers between her legs. Her cunt was absolutely dripping wet. And this was kind of a dichotomy because there was no WAY Charlotte was enjoying this. The shame and fear on her face as she was fairly brutally assaulted was clear to see, and she was fighting with all her strength against her captor. Her body was reacting in a different way -- but this was in no way going to earn her any pity or reprieve, and in fact her physical reaction made me angrier than before -- and determined to find a way to avenge Susie. Our original thought had been to pleasure Charlotte with one of Susie's vibrators, whether she wanted it or not. And she clearly didn't, judging by her continuing, fruitless struggles. But now I grabbed the monster Susie had brought into the bathroom with her and, pausing only to soap it a little, pressed its tip against the puckered ring of Charlotte's ass. She clearly knew what was coming and her struggles redoubled, but to no avail -- I slid that thing deeply into her and, once she'd taken about 5 inches of it, turned it on. The effect was, if you'll pardon the pun, electric! Bucking and writhing as she continued to try to escape the ruthless grip in which she was held, the anal invasion galvanised Charlotte into ever-wilder movements -- that did nothing to bring her closer to release. It was easy to keep her controlled -- I simply twisted the scarf around her neck a little tighter, watching carefully as her face suffused with oxygen-starved blood to ensure that the punishment we were subjecting her too didn't become permanent. Given that Charlotte DID need to breathe, and being ready to move on to the next phase of her humiliation, I pulled the vibrator free of her ass. I told Susie to stop her spanking of Charlotte's now-glowing bum, and, as the sensations ceased, Charlotte tried to look at us over her shoulder. I stood her upright and turned her to face us. Her face returning to a more normal colour as I eased the pressure on the scarf round her neck, tears staining her face from the pain and humiliation of her ass being violated, hair coming loose from her bun, nipples almost tearing holes in her blouse, moisture darkening the tops of the flesh-coloured stockings she wore and saliva running from the corners of her mouth around the improvised French-knickers gag, Charlotte was probably the most erotic vision I'd ever seen. We had not, by any stretch of the imagination, finished with her yet. I reached into my pocket and took out a couple of capsules of Rohypnol, the so-called "date rape" drug. This wasn't a date, but we wanted Charlotte compliant -- what we were planning for her wasn't something she would have gone along with uncoerced. I pulled the gag from Charlotte's mouth and thrust the capsules inside -- and to ensure that she didn't try to spit them out, I sealed my lips over hers and pushed the capsules deep into her throat with my tongue as Susie frigged furiously on her throbbing clit. Charlotte swallowed reflexively and the capsules were on their way to start their work.... Half an hour later, their effects were becoming apparent. Charlotte was surprisingly docile, given that she'd just been fucked in the ass and strangled half to death by a complete stranger. It was time to tell her what she had to do -- and to see if the drugs had had the desired effect. "Put your skirt back on" I said. "Go now to the guy in 34C (appropriate, given what I could judge of her magnificent breasts!) and make him come. Don't care what you do -- use your hands, which I'll release in a moment, use your mouth, give him a tit fuck for all I care -- just make him come. And don't say a word to him or anyone else before, during or after this -- come straight back here. But before you go...." Susie took a pair of love balls from her bag and jammed them inside Charlottes sopping pussy. I cut through the plasticuffs and pushed her out of the bathroom where she pulled her skirt back up over her legs -- ah, those legs, sheathed in the sheerest nylon -- I was looking forward, later, to lying between them and lapping tirelessly at her throbbing bud. She looked uncertainly from me, to Susie, and back again. "GO" I commanded. "And we'll be watching -- make him come, and get back here. You haven't got long -- you need to serve breakfast in half an hour!" On still-trembling legs, Charlotte turned towards the designated seat. Looking back constantly over her shoulder, she was clearly behaving under duress. As she reached row 34, she looked beseechingly at us one more time. Clearly she was going to need some further encouragement to carry out her task. Moving quickly and silently up the aisle, and shielded by the darkness enveloping the sleeping cabin, I reached her side and once again grabbed her scarf. Pulling her close, I hissed to her "Suck him. NOW!" and pushed her head down towards the sleeping man's groin. With trembling hands, she unfastened his zip and pulled out a flaccid, but still impressive cock. With me still holding her head immovably in place, she began to trace her pointed tongue the length of it, immediately producing a twitching reaction -- and a fluttering open of eyes as the guy in 34C began to realise what was happening to him. Not surprisingly, he was somewhat taken aback -- but had obviously sussed out the situation very quickly, and sat back in his seat to enjoy Charlotte's ministrations. He looked quizzically at me, asking an unspoken question, and I whispered "she's being forced to do this for mistreating a colleague. If I was you, I'd sit back and enjoy!" And he clearly was enjoying this, growing and swelling as Charlotte's tongue went to work on him. He placed his hand on the back of her neck -- I let go the scarf for now, and instead ran my hand up the back of her legs, jamming two fingers roughly into her still-distended ass. He began a spasmodic thrusting of his hips into her face, holding her head firmly in place. She was trying to pull away as she sensed his explosion approaching but he wasn't having any of that -- a man after my own heart! -- and so she was forced, moaning in protest, to swallow reflexively as his jism gushed forth. The guy in 34C grinned at me. "Thanks for letting me help you punish her!" he said, still holding Charlotte's head in place, forcing her to lick the last drops from his now drooping member, lest they drip down her chin. "Just a shame we woke the neighbours!". And sure enough, the little old lady in 34A was wide awake, and must have seen every moment -- or at least the latter moments -- of what had just happened. She looked at Charlotte in disgust -- clearly, "young gels" hadn't done that sort of thing in her day! Marching Charlotte back to the galley, I took her firmly by the throat as soon as we were through the curtain. Slamming her against the toilet door, pushing her head back and forcing her to stand on tiptoe so that her eyes were level with mine, I wanted to make sure she got the next message very, very clearly. "You're going back to work now", I growled at her. Her eyes widened in fear as she heard the ferocity in my voice, and felt my fingers tighten around her neck. "But don't think for a minute I am finished with you yet. I will be watching EVERY move you make; Susie, too, will be watching you. You are to do NOTHING to indicate to anyone what has been happening to you. When we get off this flight, you are coming with us. When you strap in for landing, Susie's going to fasten your harness with more plasticuffs to ensure you don't try to leave without us -- and in the meantime, I'm going to keep you fed on Rohypnol to keep you quiet." So saying, I jammed another capsule into her throat, again forcing it home with my tongue and this time, pushing first two, then three and finally four fingers into her tight, dripping pussy. I sought and found that elusive ganglion of nerves hiding behind her pelvic wall, and pressed on it insistently -- Charlotte's knees buckled slightly with this new sensation, and for a moment, her entire weight was supported by my left hand around her throat and my right hand jammed deep in her cunt. I released her throat first, then pulled my fingers out of her aching vagina. She stood, trembling mutely, wondering what was coming next. As a last touch (for now, at least) I told her to remove her blouse and take off the white satin bra she was wearing, then to put the blouse back on again. As she did so, I caught my first sight of her magnificent breasts and before she closed the buttons on her blouse, caught hold of her engorged nipples, squeezing insistently on the dark, prominent buds. Charlotte gasped in pain as I said to her "remember -- you do EXACTLY as you are told". Unable to speak, tears coursing down her face, Charlotte nodded vehemently. Her spirit was breaking under the incessant pressure. Breakfast service that morning was one that many of the passengers will remember for years to come. Because they hadn't often been served breakfast by a hostess who presented as clearly a dishevelled picture as Charlotte did that morning. Removed from the restraints of her bra, her fantastic breasts swelled proudly against her white satin blouse, her prominent nipples clearly delineated against the fabric. Her once fastidious bun was in disarray, tendrils of dark hair escaping everywhere; she was clearly not focussing on the task in hand as the combined effects of the drugs and the still-inserted love balls were distracting her constantly. But somehow, she got through the service and, as the captain instructed the cabin crew to be seated for landing, sank into her jump seat. She was bewildered and ashamed -- never had she had so many explicitly sexual comments directed at her as she'd served breakfast braless; the withering look of contempt from the lady in 34A coupled with the leering wink from her near neighbour in 34C had reminded her forcefully of her acts in the early hours of darkness; and her ass still ached from the pounding it had taken from Susie's vibrator. She shrank back into the seat as Susie, as promised, fastened a web of plasticuffs around the four-point buckle on the restraining harness -- and began again to weep silently as she realised that her ordeal was far from over.... As we landed, and knowing that one particular hostess wouldn't even think of chiding me for moving before the seat-belt sign had gone out, I got to my feet, grabbed my carry-on from the overhead bin and made my way to the rear galley again. Yet again with an early arrival we were to be coached from the aircraft but, somewhat unusually, there was also a set of stairs being positioned against the rear door. This couldn't have worked better! I cut the plasticuffs around the buckle holding Charlotte in place and pulled her to her feet whilst Susie opened the rear door. Securing Charlotte's wrists once more in front of her, I disguised her captivity by draping her uniform jacket over her bound hands and, Susie taking the lead, we set off down the steps. Aviation At the foot of the stairs, the usual bus waited. But the dispatcher had come out to meet the flight, too, and had left his car close to the aircraft. Seizing the opportunity, and rather than waiting for a bunch of other people to join us on the coach, Susie and I bundled Charlotte into the back of the car. Susie followed her in; I jumped in the driver's seat and we drew sedately away from the stand. Or at least I was driving sedately -- Susie was taking advantage of Charlotte's helplessness by pushing her skirt up and pulling out the love balls that had been tormenting her for so long, pausing for a moment to lower her head to Charlotte's throbbing clit and lapping it insistently with her pointed tongue. Charlotte tried to push Susie away but was by now too weak to do much more than mess her hair up a bit -- Susie sure as hell wasn't distracted and kept probing, licking, tormenting and caressing with her tongue, upping the ante now too by sliding a sharp-nailed finger into Charlotte's ass. I knew the airport fairly well, and headed towards the drop-off point for immigration. I'd thought about making straight for one of the maintenance hangars a few hundred yards away, but with what I had in mind for Charlotte (and Susie!) over the next few hours, I thought I'd be kind of restricted. And it wasn't ME being restricted that was the objective -- that was the fate awaiting Charlotte, who I was determined was going to spend her next few waking hours totally at my mercy. Besides which -- her uniform was beginning to look a little the worse for wear, and I had some thoughts as to what I wanted to see her wearing for my pleasure as the day wore on. We pulled up at the foot of the escalators leading up to immigration and, with Charlotte supported between us, Susie and I breezed towards the EU channel. Fortunately our flight was amongst the first to arrive, so the usual queues were absent -- and even more fortunately, no-one wondered why Charlotte offered her passport with two hands, or why those hands were draped in her jacket and going slightly purple! Going through customs was even easier -- we just made Charlotte push the trolley that had my carry-on and the girls' bags. And we were through in no time, being met as we emerged by my driver. He went to take the trolley from Charlotte, but naturally I was keen for her to hang on to it for now -- so instead, he went to bring the car to us. And what a car it was. I travel often enough that I like a little bit of comfort when I arrive, and the car firm usually sends an S-class Mercedes. But they'd outdone themselves this time! Having just taken delivery of a stretch Hummer -- you know, those Army vehicles that have been "civilianised" and turned into the latest in limos -- they'd sent this along. And WHAT an opportunity it presented! As we climbed into the back, I looked around in wonder. Leather upholstery, footstools, wet bar, tv, video -- even a video camera! -- everything that you could hope for in a car was there. The driver got in up front, and I slid closed the partition between the passenger cabin and the driver. We had an hours journey ahead of us -- Susie had agreed to come with me, and Charlotte would do what she was told, whether she liked it or not -- and here was an opportunity for more retribution. Charlotte was lolling on the rearmost seat. We unfastened her wrists, and re-secured them to the headrests on the rearmost seat of the Hummer. Removing her skirt, we stretched her ankles wide apart, tying them with a couple of ties from my carry-on to the interior door handles on opposite sides of the car. The windows were pretty much blacked out -- from the outside, at least -- but I didn't want Charlotte to see where we were going, so I took from my pocket the little sleep mask that the airline had handed out and slipped it over her eyes. Then I put the headphones from the in-car stereo over her ears, selecting an all-music radio station and cranking the volume way up; finally, Charlotte's knickers were once again pressed into service as a gag. What a picture. Spread-eagled, skirt gone, blouse now open to her waist, nylon clad thighs spread widely apart, slightly puffy pussy lips glistening with her own juices, held totally immobile and effectively deaf, dumb and blind -- Charlotte had no idea what was coming at her next, or where it was coming from. I eased the court shoe from Charlotte's left foot and, watching her to gauge her reaction, ran my index finger lightly down her silky-smooth sole. I guess the lady is ticklish, because she reared ineffectively against her bonds, muffled yelps emitting from behind the knickers stuffed into her mouth, her toes curling reflexively -- this was too good a reaction to pass up! So I went to work on her foot with a will, now barely caressing her sole; now raking my nails the length of her foot; now sucking on her toes; now pausing for a second or two before resuming the assault. Susie had cottoned quickly onto what I was doing and more, to the reaction it was prompting -- and needed no invitation to join in on the other foot! But I'd been patient for long enough now. It was almost 4 hours since I had first subdued Charlotte on the aeroplane, and it was my turn. Whilst Susie continued to reduce Charlotte to paroxysms of wriggling helplessness, I took my trousers and underwear off, revealing a very angry and hungry looking cock. I've never been one to talk about size -- to be honest, I haven't seen that many erect dicks! -- but I do know that I've never had any complaints. And I also know that I'd never seen it looking as engorged as it was then, my foreskin pulling back over the purple glans, glistening droplets of clear pre-ejaculatory fluid oozing from the tip. I first knelt between Charlotte's widely spread thighs. I was eager to taste her and the smell of her juices, together with her continuing and futile struggles, served to arouse me yet further. Pausing only to run my tongue just once all the way from her ass to her clit, lingering on the latter for a second or two, I positioned my aching cock against her red, wet opening. She instinctively tried to pull away from this latest impending violation, but there was nowhere for her to go -- and plenty for me to push against. And push against it I did, plunging myself deep into her, impaling her helplessly against the back of the seat. Tears began to run from beneath the eyemask Charlotte was wearing as she was yet again subjected to treatment that she would ordinarily run a mile from; me -- I just revelled in the sensation of being engulfed in her tight, wet hole. Slowly, I withdrew until the ridge around my glans was all that was in contact with her vaginal opening, stretching it wide, and then again, I rammed myself hard into her; hard enough to hurt; hard enough to make her groan through the gag crammed into her mouth -- hard enough that my balls slapped against her ass. Again, I slowly pulled my now-glistening length from her depths to the point of almost losing contact; again, like a piledriver, I thrust my full, rigid girth all the way into her molten core. I'd been too patient for too long. I could feel a huge pressure building deep inside me, and my rhythm quickened. Again and again I pulled almost completely out of Charlotte, only to drive home again -- again and again she moaned and whimpered as she was brutally raped, helpless and in the dark, only feet away from salvation as we drove through the traffic. Until, finally, I could hold back no longer and hours worth of pent-up arousal exploded deep inside Charlotte. I roared like a bull as my orgasm swept through me and collapsed against Charlotte. I pulled the earphones to one side and murmured to her "there's much more where that came from" -- to be rewarded by a muffled wail from behind her gag.... Susie, meantime, had been operating the video camera and had captured, if you'll pardon the pun, Charlotte's ordeal in full colour and high resolution. But Susie now seemed to have made a resolution of her own and pushed me to one side. Lifting her skirt to her waist -- and she WAS wearing stockings, these ones the sheerest black and the thigh-high, hold-up type, so long that their tops almost brushed against her pubes -- she pulled the obviously-drenched crotch of her thong to one side and, whipping the soaked French knickers from Charlotte's mouth, immediately gagged her instead by straddling her face and lowering her throbbing pudenda directly onto Charlotte's mouth and nose. The only hope Charlotte had of breathing was to open her mouth and as she did so, Susie began to slide her saturated pussy back and forth against Charlotte's face. Charlotte rolled her head from side to side, trying to escape the pressure of Susie's cunt, but this served only to arouse Susie more as the bridge of Charlotte's nose rubbed against her engorged clitoris. Susie leaned forward more and, not to be left out of the party, I slid three fingers deep into Charlotte's poor, battered pussy -- and my tongue into the perfect little ass that Susie was presenting to me. I couldn't hear what sort of reaction Charlotte was offering -- she was a feisty one, though, and kept on struggling uselessly against her bonds -- because she'd been VERY effectively gagged by Susie's groin -- but I could hear Susie's gasps and moans of excitement and approaching orgasm as the combination of my tongue in her ass and Charlotte's in her pussy had their effect. Then, without warning, we hit a pothole in the road -- and as she literally bounced on Charlotte's face, Susie let out a scream of orgasmic joy the intensity of which was matched only by the flood of juices now pouring forth from her over Charlotte's face. Susie and I, sated for a while, sat back and chatted desultorily, sipping on drinks from the mini-bar as we waited to reach our destination. Charlotte was in an even sorrier state by now -- physically and mentally drained; emotionally and bodily abused she merely hung, sobbing into her mask, against her bonds. We hadn't bothered replacing the gag and Charlotte, in a pitiful whimper, asked for something to drink. Whilst Susie poured a Coke, I thought of a more inventive use for the ice cubes in the mini-bar -- and pushed three of them deep into Charlotte's vagina. The shock must have been intense, for the feeling of the ice against her red-hot and swollen pussy generated a spurt of urine from Charlotte -- the car firm might not be so keen to send THIS car next time they come to meet me at the airport! We were approaching our destination so Susie and I worked to make Charlotte a bit more presentable. Loosening her hands and ankles from their bonds, we helped her back into her shoes and skirt, and fastened her blouse. Even freed as she was, Charlotte remained docile and compliant -- the continuing effect of the drugs she'd been fed and her treatment at our hands (and other body parts!) was clearly still taking its toll. As our driver opened the door, Charlotte meekly followed Susie out of the car and stood waiting whilst we collected the bags from the boot. The Hummer pulled away into the gathering gloom, and a silent stillness settled over the landscape. I roughly grabbed Charlotte's wrist, and dragged her unprotestingly up the path to the front door. There were no neighbours to wonder at my rough treatment of this beautiful girl -- we had been dropped at my weekend cottage on the edge of the Cotswolds, set in a secluded valley and surrounded by trees. I knew that we could make all the noise we wanted -- and only the uncaring sheep would wonder. Susie bringing up the rear and laden with all the bags, we entered the cottage. Immediately, I marched Charlotte up the stairs and pushed her across the kingsize bed that dominated the master bedroom. Going to the beside cabinet, I took out a pair of Kreig handcuffs and shackled both her wrists securely to the brass headboard. But not because I was planning another immediate assault on her body -- rather, I wanted to be undisturbed whilst I selected some clothing for her. She looked a complete wreck, and I wanted her cleaned up a bit. As I began to rummage through wardrobes, though, it became apparent that Susie had other ideas. As she came into the room and saw Charlotte helpless once again, an evil grin lit up her face. She dragged her case to the bedside and opened it and for the first time, I got a glimpse of the treasure trove of toys that had been the source of Charlotte's amusement, and which had landed her in so much trouble now. Susie DID have an impressive collection! And she set to work with a will to use this now. Shucking off all her clothes except her shoes and stockings with complete abandon, she climbed onto the bed taking with her from her case a double-ended dildo. Charlotte could see what was coming this time, and immediately began shaking her head, writhing around on the bed to try to avoid the impending assault -- but to no avail. With her wrists secured, there really was nowhere for her to go. Susie, displaying remarkable strength for one so small, simply grabbed hold of Charlottes ankles and pushed them backwards, doubling Charlotte over in the middle. Holding her in that position with one hand, Susie slid one end of the dildo deep into Charlottes still sodden vagina and then, squatting over Charlotte, eased the other end into herself. Charlottes ankles were now held in place by Susies shoulders -- she was once again unable to do anything to protect herself from the humiliation and exploitation being meted out by her captors. And Susie took full advantage of her helplessness. Slowly at first, but with gathering pace, she moved up and down on the dildo, moving it at the same time inside Charlotte. I stopped searching through the wardrobe to watch this incredibly arousing scene -- a beautiful brunette, pinned helplessly to the bed, being straddled and fucked hard by an equally beautiful blond. Charlottes head rolled from side to side in mute protest; her mouth hung open as for about the 6th time in as many hours, she was brutally invaded. And still her body betrayed her, beginning now to heave spasmodically against Susie as the driving rhythm of the invading dildo accelerated. Susie's blond hair had long since escaped its braid and now flew wildly about her face as she grew closer and closer to orgasm; her breathing became more and more ragged and her entire body grew rigid in anticipation of the approaching climax. And, with a final, almost spastic series of thrusts onto the dildo and into Charlotte, Susie did indeed come -- in a fashion so explosive that her screams almost shattered the window panes. She slumped, exhausted, forward against Charlotte, holding her pinned and bent double against the bed. And as she did so, she thrust her tongue deep into Charlotte's mouth, kissing her long and penetratingly, smearing what remained of her lipstick across her mouth, licking her eyelids -- reminding Charlotte that it was WE who were in control and that her fate was entirely in our hands. As the girls lay in sexual exhaustion on the bed, I returned to my rummage through the wardrobe. I was rock hard again after what I'd just witnessed, but I wanted Charlotte a bit more presentable for what I wanted to do to her. I didn't want to dress her up AS something -- I just wanted her to dress in something more glamourous than her uniform, appealing as that was. And I had in the wardrobe a dress that I thought might fit her (not that I'm into cross-dressing; a previous visitor had left it behind!). From Charlotte's case, I was spoilt for choice when it came to undergarments -- it was simply over-flowing with pretty and sexy lingerie. And I do have a weakness for pretty and sexy lingerie -- a weakness that is heightened when I know that it's being worn, and can anticipate exposing it, feeling it, tearing it away to reveal a helplessly bound and beautifully proportioned form. And Charlotte was again going to become that helplessly bound and beautifully proportioned person. But first, I wanted to bathe her -- whilst the perfume she wore was still discernible, the eau de jet fuel that adorned all of us was not the most erotic of scents (although forever more I will associate it with the thrill of our first capture of Charlotte on board the aircraft). So, I rolled Susie away from Charlotte's supine form, released the handcuffs and pulled Charlotte to her feet. She stood before me, head bowed, clothing almost unrecognisable as the pristine uniform she'd once worn, legs trembling -- Charlotte was becoming more and more cowed. I wanted to change the pace a little. She was, in all likelihood, beginning to become numbed by the harshness of the treatment she'd received. This meant that each succeeding experience affected her less and less; she was not therefore going to suffer the degradation she deserved following her treatment of Susie. So -- I wanted to lull her into something of a false sense of security. She flinched a little as I stepped closer, and cowered away as I raised my hand. But instead of the slap she might have been expecting, I cupped her cheek in my hand, and planted a tender kiss on her lips. This surprised her more than would have been the case with a slap, I think, and it became apparent that my devilishly Baldrick-esque cunning plan might well succeed! So, continuing with the "gentle touch", I removed all of her remaining clothing and handed her an oversized, white towelling robe. I led her into the en-suite bathroom, and started the shower running. Without further encouragement, Charlotte slipped out of the robe and stepped under the steaming spray, turning her face upwards to the water. I undressed, too, and stepped into the shower with her. She backed away into the corner, arms folded defensively in front of her magnificent breasts. But I told her that I wasn't going to hurt her (that was true -- at least for the moment) and pulled her towards me. Slowly and patiently, I began soaping her body. Not an inch of her beautifully tanned skin escaped my attention. And as I reached between her legs, I was again astonished by her wetness -- hotter than the water needling down on her skin; slicker than the bubbles produced by the soap, her pussy was simply soaking with her own juices. Lubricating my finger with those fluids, I slipped it next into her ass -- and the sensation again made Charlotte quiver and moan. Enough time in the shower. Taking her hand, I wrapped her in a fluffy towel and began to pat the moisture from her body. Her huge brown eyes stared at me in befuddlement -- she didn't know whether to relax or not; having been subjected to constant humiliation and abuse for so long meant that she didn't now know how to deal with this apparent gentleness. Which was just fine, as far as I was concerned -- because it wasn't going to last long! Leading her to the dressing table, I sat her sideways on the stool before it. Then, I laid her down along the cushion -- at about four feet long, the stool supported her from neck to knees. Taking her hands one by one, I secured them to the legs of the stool at one end; at the other, I tied her ankles securely to the remaining legs. She lay before me, legs parted, head hanging backwards over the edge of the stool. So as a finishing touch, I looped the belt from the towelling robe around her neck and pulled it tight against her throat -- just tight enough to impede her breathing. Susie joined me now and, using one of Charlotte's discarded stockings and her own thoroughly soaked thong, blindfolded and gagged our victim. Once again, Charlotte was in darkness. And silence enveloped her, too -- not because her ears had been covered, but because Susie and I were going about our next task in complete hush. Charlotte heard a rasping sound, but didn't know what it was. More silence ensued. Then, from nowhere, there was the lightest brush of my fingers against her protruding clit. The involuntary jerk this produced resulted in exactly what I'd expected -- a tightening of the chord around Charlotte's neck, and a gasp from her as she struggled to draw breath. Aviation But that was nothing to her reaction to my next move. Taking a saucer in which I'd been burning a candle for some time -- the rasping sound was the match used to ignite it -- I carefully poured the hot candle wax over Charlotte's pubic hair. Although she was neatly trimmed, I wanted her clean shaven -- and had decided to give her a very special, very personal wax treatment. As the hot wax came into contact with her skin, Charlotte let out a muffled scream, quickly choked off by the further restriction of the noose around her neck as it tightened in response to her struggles. The wax, quickly cooling and whitening, soon became glistening and wet with the fluids pouring from Charlotte as she struggled for breath. Fascinated by this reaction, I slowly tightened the chord further, watching her face turning a dusky shade of red as her breathing was completely cut off; holding it that way for a full minute until Charlotte must have been on the very edge of unconsciousness. And despite her body being denied the oxygen it so craved, one part of it at least was functioning fully -- I had never seen such a copious flood of lubricants as poured from Charlotte's labia. And how erotic this looked -- her juices soaking the now-hardened wax that surrounded her vagina like icing on a cake. I couldn't resist tasting her again, and rasped my bearded chin roughly against her aching clit -- producing yet another spasmodic lunge against her bonds, and a low, guttural moan from behind the gag. But now was time for the finale. Gripping the edge of the wax firmly, I yanked it hard. And of course, it came away -- carrying with it all the hair around Charlotte's lips. With one move, she was naked and even more exposed to us, and Susie now, too, leaned forward to lap at Charlotte's vulnerable crotch. In the meantime, I moved to the other end of the stool and, whipping the gag from her mouth, thrust my cock into her throat as her head hung upside down over the edge of the stool. As I did so, I squeezed and pulled those wonderful nipples and once again, Charlotte had become a mere plaything, there only for the purpose of providing gratification to me and to Susie. But this wasn't the time, tempting though it was, to let things come to their logical conclusion. Taking my still-rigid cock from Charlotte's mouth, I told Susie to desist as well. She paid no attention, and it took a couple of hard slaps on her beautifully-shaped ass to get her to stop teasing Charlotte's clit with her tongue -- but eventually, she did so, leaving Charlotte, now bedraggled again, lashed securely to the stool. I told Susie to clean Charlotte's face up, and to apply her make-up for her -- I didn't want to release her just yet. And, whilst Susie set about her task, I laid out the clothing Charlotte was to wear. Not much of it -- a simple, floor-length black silk evening dress that would fit where it touched and would touch almost everywhere; a fresh pair of satin French knickers (Charlotte had looked so good in these aboard the plane; I wanted to be able to study her and take some pictures -- more later! -- at my leisure); a pair of very long, very sheer, very black hold-up stockings and a pair of very strappy sandals with a ridiculously-high, four-inch heel. Susie had by now finished Charlotte's make-up, and it was time to begin dressing her. I released one foot from its restraint, and rolled the stocking up the length of Charlotte's beautifully-shaped and proportioned leg. So perfectly did it fit her that it would have brushed against her pubic hair, had any remained, and it was clear that the already dark welt at the tops of these stockings would quickly become darker still if Charlotte continued to produce fluids in the quantities seen thus far. I wasn't going to complain, though! I managed to get the other stocking on with no problem, then strapped Charlotte into the sandals that would take her to a height equal to mine. The French knickers were next, and, pulling Charlotte to her feet, I helped her step into them and pulled them up her legs, seating them snugly against her now-hairless mound. Already, Charlotte was a vision -- hair piled artfully atop her head, revealing her long, elegant neck; rosy-tipped breasts jutting proudly; long, slim legs encased in sheerest black nylon as she teetered on the unaccustomed heels, and the elegant eroticism of the French knickers presented a glorious picture. One that I wanted to capture -- so I had Charlotte stand motionless whilst I snapped a few shots with the digital camera. I then tossed the camera to Susie and had her take some pictures as I caressed and licked Charlotte's nipples; Susie of course insisted that the favour be returned -- and as she was wearing nothing more than stockings and heels, I knew these shots would soon go in my private collection. Although I thought I might use one or two for advertising purposes, too.... Anyway, photos taken, it was time to slip Charlotte into the dress I'd selected for her. And it had been something of a challenge making that choice, because amongst the toys in Susies suitcase were a couple of outfits that I could just picture Charlotte wearing -- outfits that I was determined she WOULD wear before too long. But for now, I wanted to keep with the theme of elegance, and the black silk dress slithered over her raised arms and down her body. As I suspected, it fitted beautifully and her magnificent boobs filled it magnificently, her still-engorged nipples raising very obvious peaks in the material. I took Charlotte by the hand, and led her back downstairs. She hadn't noticed much on the way in -- she was still dazed and confused after her treatment in the Hummer on the way here -- and now she began to look around curiously. What she could see was a large room, log fire flickering in the hearth -- Susie had lit it when I was showering Charlotte -- with a flagstone floor and low, heavily beamed ceiling. I pulled her towards the centre of the room and stopped directly under one of the beams. Charlotte had been compliant to this point, but when I lifted her wrist towards one of the ancient iron hooks deeply embedded in the beam overhead, she pulled away, shaking her head vigorously and moaning "No, no -- not again! No more -- please -- no more!" Needless to say, her pleas fell on deaf ears. Although she was struggling, she was no match for my strength -- and Susie was clinging on to her other arm. Within seconds, the soft white rope already attached to the hook in anticipation had been used to secure Charlotte's right wrist. Wasting no time, I took her right wrist and repeated the treatment, using a hook situated about three feet away from its neighbour. By pulling tightly on the ropes, I ensured that Charlotte was still able to stand -- but only just, and only on tiptoe, even in those ridiculously high heels. Her head slumped forward in defeat as she recognised that again she was powerless to prevent whatever we had in mind for her next. She hadn't been blindfolded yet -- and this was deliberate, because I wanted her to see what we were preparing for her, and for her imagination to begin the process of humiliation before we'd even raised a finger. I opened the lid of an old, sea-going trunk in the corner of the room and took from it an ornately carved, three-foot long spreader bar. Made from heavy ebony and with padded leather cuffs attached securely to each end, Charlotte could see that this was going to be yet another restriction on her freedom. And despite being held inescapably by the wrists, she began to kick out as I came towards her with the spreader bar, catching me briefly with one of those lethal sandals. But Susie once again came to my assistance, catching one raised foot and holding it tightly whilst I fastened a cuff to one ankle; holding it tightly still until I'd secured it, too, to the other end of the spreader bar. As a finishing touch, I used a small, central strap on the bar to secure it to a shackle sunk into the flagstones. Well -- not QUITE a finishing touch. I took one more long, silken chord and, forming it into a noose, looped this over Charlotte's head and tightened it around her throat -- a throat in which a small pulse beat like a triphammer. And taking the free end of the chord, I fed it through a third eyebolt in the beam, directly above Charlotte's head, before tying it off, pulled taught, to the centre of the spreader bar. Charlotte could breathe -- just -- so long as she stayed on her feet. So, to make that even more difficult for her, I removed the sandals she'd been wearing for such a brief period -- and immediately the chord began to bite more deeply into her neck. Stretching to the very limit of her strength, Charlotte was able to ease the pressure by standing on tiptoe -- but for sure, she wouldn't be able to hold that position for long. We stood back to admire our handiwork. Charlotte stood before us in a cruciform position, incapable of moving anything except her head and her groin, and neither of those very much. Still able to see, she stood panting and watched as I went back to the trunk, this time removing a riding crop and an old-fashioned, wide-backed hairbrush. As I took a couple of experimental cuts at the air with the crop, Charlotte moaned -- this time in fear. She knew what was coming. But she didn't know when -- and I didn't want her to know. So -- out came the blindfold again; once again, Charlotte was confined to darkness. She could hear the rustling of clothing and the sound of zips as my clothing was removed -- then she heard me telling Susie to go upstairs and get dressed. No, I didn't want her to put her uniform back on -- but I had spied something in her case, and I whispered instructions to her as to exactly what I wanted her to wear. Susie grinned that wicked little grin of hers, and set off to change. Meantime, I padded closer to Charlotte. As I said, she knew what was coming, and stretching out the anticipation of the sting of the lash that she knew she was going to feel was my immediate priority. To do so, I began to touch her -- so gently, she wasn't sure she'd even BEEN touched; so randomly that she had no chance of predicting where and when she'd be touched next. Sometimes the touch was with my fingers; sometimes with my tongue; sometimes with the glans of my rock-hard cock from the end of which copious quantities of pre-ejaculatory fluid oozed. I breathed in her ear and watched as her nipples grew harder still; I nuzzled her neck and heard her involuntary gasp; I took her nipple between my lips through the silk of her dress then flicked and squeezed it with my fingers, too -- all of these sensations were building the dread in Charlotte that the NEXT touch would be the one that stung. I took the spaghetti straps of her evening dress between my teeth and tugged gently until they loosened, allowing her dress to crumple to the floor in a pool of shimmering silk. And how stunning Charlotte looked now -- a light sheen of sweat coating her body both from heat and from fear; breasts heaving as she struggled to breathe normally in that stretched, cruciform position; lingerie outlining and enhancing her beautiful form. I continued to walk around her. She knew I was there and I could almost see her ears quivering as she sought to locate me by sound alone, all other sensory input having been denied her. And as she tried to find me, another sound distracted her -- the sound of high heels clattering first on the stairs, then on the flagstone floor as Susie made her less-than-silent return. I used this distraction to catch Charlotte when she least expected it and, putting the force of a well-trained forehand into my stroke, brought the riding crop sharply across Charlotte's proudly swelling arse. She screamed. Not just with pain, but with fright -- I think she'd maybe begun to believe it wasn't going to be so bad this time, after all. But she was so, so wrong. That stroke was just the first of many and I settled into a rhythm, beating her buttocks mercilessly through the satin of her French knickers. And as I did so, Susie picked up the hairbrush and, using the back of it, began to slap Charlotte's concealed mound. She timed her strokes such that we both came into contact at the same time, and Charlotte could do nothing to escape. The pain she was suffering made her forget, too, to stay on tiptoe and she slumped forward, now supported only by the rope around her wrists -- and the chord around her neck. Her breathing began to come in strangled gasps; her head rolled from side to side as she struggled for oxygen and still moans of pain escaped her as her entire lower body became one sea of fiery heat as the riding crop and hairbrush continued to beat their relentless tattoo upon her helpless body. As I'd said, Susie had brought a couple of special items in her suitcase, and she was wearing them now. Somehow, she'd managed to squeeze herself into a royal blue, wet-look latex teddy that must have been almost painful to wear -- it outlined every millimetre of her small but perfectly formed body. And in addition to that -- as well as a fresh pair of stockings -- she now sported the most wicked-looking strap-on I had ever seen. The contrast between the sheer femininity of her voluptuous body and the powerful, masculine image of the strap-on was incredible -- and I thought it was time Charlotte should appreciate it, too. So, I removed the blindfold from Charlotte's eyes. They were closed -- but not for long. I took her weight in my arms until she could stand properly once more, and now that the beating had stopped, she was able to do so quickly. And as her breathing returned to normal, she opened her eyes -- only to see Susie advancing upon her, giant phallus jutting obscenely from her groin. Charlotte, obviously, could go nowhere -- and lubricated as she was, presented no obstacle to Susie as she sank the tip of the strap-on into Charlotte's swollen, wet vagina. I wasn't going to be left out of this one. As Susie began to develop a rhythm, pushing a little deeper into Charlotte with each stroke, I stepped behind her again and using my thumbs, pulled apart the glorious cheeks of her ass. The end of my cock was already slick with fluid and I settled it in position against the puckered opening -- then, when Susie thrust forward on the next stroke, I too pushed forward -- and Charlotte was impaled on both holes. Again, Susie and I found our rhythm quickly. We withdrew together; thrust deep into Charlottes helpless body together -- so deep, that I could feel the tip of the strap-on inside Charlotte as I sank my cock further into her ass. And although being impaled on us both meant that we were bearing Charlotte's weight, too, I pulled down on her shoulders so that again she began to choke. This time there was no mistaking it. Charlotte had fought against us ever since I'd originally taken control of her on the aeroplane but I'd suspected, based on the way her body was reacting, that she found this physically stimulating, if mentally and emotionally degrading. And if ever I needed proof, this was it. As Susie and I increased our pace still further; as I teased and tugged Charlottes nipples; as her breathing became more and more tortured -- her body offered up the ultimate betrayal. There was no doubt that the strangled yells from Charlotte and the almost spastic twitching of her inner muscles meant that she was in the throes of an enormous orgasm -- one which went on, and on, and on and which, finally, tipped the balance for me. Once more, I exploded inside Charlotte -- this time, deep inside her ass as Susie, too, flushed uncontrollably from the orgasm sweeping through her, brought about by the pressure of the strap-on against her clit. Three of us. Spent. Exhausted. Sated. For now...