Part 2: The Friend Plays Again
If my girlfriend ever found out there would be trouble. Probably some big trouble, but what can I say in my defence other than that I am weak.
Her ‘friend’ joined in our games a few weeks ago, a blue-eyed curvy temptress from somewhere in the old Eastern Europe who had delighted in our games and brought to them a whole new dimension. And when my auburn-haired lady friend was away, her friend and I had started to play together.
Her initially close-cropped blonde hair had started to grow out and now fell loose about her shoulders, but her blue eyes still sparkled with delight when we played out naughty games. And as ever, when we played our games she wore the black domino mask that concentrated the attention on her eyes and somehow brought out her wild and dominant side.
I was down on my hands and knees before her. I looked up at her, and down between my legs I felt my manhood twitch as the sight of her. All curves and soft white flesh she stood over me, looking down with a smile playing over rouged lips.
There were gleaming boots clinging to her calves and above them fishnet stockings what gave a glorious form to her fleshy limbs. A warm soft flesh that made me unbelievably horny when she wrapped them about me and demanded I satisfy her. Or worse and even more exciting, wrapped them about my head and made insane demands of my tongue.
Stockings were tightly suspendered to a lacy basque that pulled her waist in and thrust those magnificent white milky breasts of hers up and out and the sight of them made me go weak at the knees and rock hard at the crotch.
She was swinging a collar and leash from her hand, and I dipped my head in silent submission as she reached down and pulled it snug about my throat. When I looked back up at her, my eyes running lovingly along the line of the leash that led from my neck to her hand there was a broad smile of her face.
She gave the leash a sharp tug and led me on a slow circuit of the room. Her legs swinging in a slow by steady rhythm, the collar pulling tight about my throat as I was led around the room. She knew exactly the pace the keep to. Not fast enough to make it too hard for me, but just fast enough so that I never forgot the snug embrace of the collar or the tug of that leash.
One pace followed another, and in a cheeky moment I pressed up against the warmth of her leg like a faithful pet and I was rewarded with a gentle caress of my hair.
We came to a stop and she tied my leash off to a heavy price of furniture to stop me straying before vanishing behind me. I could hear the swish of cloth and a quiet metallic sound I could not identify. Then she was in front of me again swiftly untying the leash from it’s post.
In a smooth movement she was on her haunches before me, her warm hands on my shoulders pressing me backwards. I knew from experience that her muscles were surprisingly strong, and when she put her not inconsiderable weight behind a movement she was a near unstoppable force.
I cast a glance over my shoulder as I was forced back and saw I was reversing in to the gaping maw of an open cage. Akin to a sturdy puppy cage it gaped open to welcome me inside as a not entirely unwilling prisoner.
I allowed myself to be backed gently yet firmly back in to my prison, fighting back only gently for affect. There was a thick towel on the floor of the cage to protect my knees and as I backed inside I sensed the sturdy wires of the cage closing in about me as it swallowed me whole.
I felt something cold touch my anus as I neared the back wall of the cage and I sprang forwards in surprise. She gave an unexpectedly hard shove on my shoulders and I felt myself lurch backwards. Something cold, lubricated and depressingly cock-shaped slipped smoothly into my arsehole and I let out a wail.
She moved faster than I could ever have expected and closed the door swiftly in front of me. My open mouth closed involuntarily about a rubber dildo mounted in the middle of the door and to my horror I found myself effectively spit roasted on the two phallic intruders.
I could hear her laughing as she watched my predicament sink in on me and my frantic movements as I tried to get myself free of my double bondage in the confinements of the cage. A small padlock was swiftly snapped closed about the fastening of the cage door and I was her utter prisoner.
After a few minutes of desperate hopeless struggling and listening to her tinkling laughter I looked up at her, my mouth still forced open in a surprised looking ‘O’ by the rubber dildo and my anus still stuffed full. In the tight confines of the cage there was no way I could back or pull away from either and I was truly stuck.
She walked slowly around the cage, my eyes following her was best I could. The boots gleamed, the heels made a heavy sound as they struck the wooden floor, and when I could peer up the tightness of her stocking tops I felt my manhood twitching despite my unfortunate situation.
Crouching down again she reached a warm, fleshy hand through the thick wires of the cage and gently caressed my bobbing manhood. Her hands had always been the most evil and tormenting part of her. Warm and fleshy, chubby even, they enveloped my manhood in a wicked grip that brought tears to my ears and a throbbing to my testicles. She gave several long, slow pulls before withdrawing her hand a walking away.
She walked back in to the line of my vision on front of the cage. She swayed away from me, her glorious arse sheathed in black silk moving from side to side in the most arousing fashion imaginable as she walked.
Wish a flourish she twirled and swept away a silk sheet the covered something that faced my cage across the room. I let out an inarticulate cry as I found my girlfriend staring back at me from an identical bondage cage, her mouth also wrapped about a door-mounted dildo, and presumably her anus equally filled by a matching intruder. There were tears in her eyes as she saw me, and I realised that her friend had gained the upper hand over us both and who knew what fate awaited us. And a terrible part of me was terribly aroused as we waited to find out.
We were not long to wait. The Friend reclined on top of my girlfriend’s cage and slipped a phone from somewhere about her ample frame and speed dialled a number. There was a brief conversation in a foreign tongue and she slipped the phone away.
While she waited she reached between the bars of my girlfriend’s cage and caressed her breasts with her warm palms, tweaking her nipples occasionally roughly in a way that made my girlfriend moan helplessly in her bondage, and I watched as her hips bucked against the intruder in her arse. My own manhood grew agonisingly erect and I fought desperately to get my hands to it, but my restraints left me frustrated beyond measure.
There was a knock at the door, and The Friend opened it to admit a curvy form I would soon come to know as Heather. She was as mass of warm curves and softness that made my manhood bob even harder between my legs.
Her hair was long, thick and black framing a pale face utterly dominated by big brown eyes that sparkled as she took in the scene The Friend had set before her. Every inch of her curvy frame was sheathed in skintight black lycra that gleamed and shone as she stalked around the room.
A glorious rounded arse was revealed as she walked over to my girlfriend’s cage and she crouched to peer intently as the captive within. No doubt primed by The Friend her fingers darted through the bars and softly caressed her already sensitive nipples and elicited a soft moan of pure passion.
Nodding to herself she strutted over to my cage, her mighty heels tapping on the floor, and peered in at me with bright, interested eyes. A questing hand slipped through the bars and as I gazed into those huge, dark eyes wicked fingers closed about my manhood and gave a few swift, firm pumps. To my shame I wailed into my gag and she giggled as she felt me lurch within her fingers, fingers that were swiftly withdrawn. She stood and walked away, her glorious arse rolling as she walked back to the Friend.
They shared a sudden and unexpected passionate kiss before money changed hands. Moments later four figures appeared at the door that near defied description. They were nominally female, stood way over six feet tall and muscles rolled along every limb. Clad in denim dungerees of the tightest shorts and skimpiest tops their hair was cropped short and they worse no makeup.
Heather gestured to them, and in duos they stepped to our cages, grasped a handle each and effortlessly lifted us from the floor. The next thing we knew we were being taken away to our fates.
story continues in The Friend 3
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21.10.17