Theft on Holiday
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The Holiday - Part 3 free porn video
“Would you like me to go to dinner in costume tonight?”
“What sort of costume?”
“Well, I could dress as a schoolgirl … or as a Roman slave-girl …”
I was thinking of the pretty waitresses and their daily change of costume. Last night they had been in a modified French maid uniform with naked breasts and miniskirts. What would they be wearing tonight? It was resort policy not to tell the guests in advance: it was meant to be a surprise. Would tonight be the dungeon theme my friends had told me about, and if it was, would I be allowed to volunteer for punishment?
“Well, you’re my slave-girl in any case, aren’t you?” Bob was saying, petting me and playing with my breasts.
“Yes, Master …” Suddenly I had an idea. “You remember what you wanted me to wear last night?”
“Nothing at all, you mean?”
“Yes … you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I asked, tickling his balls with the tips of my fingernails and smiling coyly up at him.
“No teasing? Of yourself or anyone else?”
“No … completely nude … nude, nude, nude for everyone to see and enjoy.” I was dancing and twirling round the room now in pure happiness. I came to rest again in his arms. “Of course that means I’ll have to be fucked by anyone who wants me, like I am when I’m nude at a strip-club. Fucked, fucked, fucked … again and again while everyone watches!” I started dancing round the room again. “Oh, I love it! You know the wonderful thing about being nude at a strip-club? It’s being surrounded by all those beautiful erections! They’re mine, mine, mine! I made them by being a sexy nude girl! They weren’t there before I made them! So they’re mine and I won’t leave till I’ve fucked every single one of them!” I snuggled into his waiting arms again. “You won’t mind, will you?” I asked anxiously.
“Of course not.”
“Oooh, it’s making me wet just thinking about it.”
“So it is. We’ve got plenty of time—come and sit on my face.”
“Mm’mm, yes! I’ll hold you hard so you can’t escape! You’ll be my prisoner and have to suck me and lick me forever!”
“Lovely. But don’t let’s be late for dinner. You’ll want plenty of time to show yourself off nude and make everyone want you.”
“Oooh, yes! But you want me to sit on your face first, don’t you?”
“Of course. I just said so. Do you need anything to drink first, or are you …?”
I knew what he meant.
“No, I have plenty.”
I made him wait for it all the same. On his instructions I sat on the bed, his neck and shoulders resting on my crossed legs and his face buried in my pussy. By bringing my knees and feet closer together I was able to imprison him, holding his mouth tightly against me while his hands on my waist and hips pulled me even more firmly into the close unison we both loved. He licked and sucked me until at last I let loose the golden stream and let him gulp down the warm liquid in great mouthfuls. So delicious - or so he always said. Then he thanked me by teasing my clit and pussy and arsehole, bringing me to orgasm after orgasm—or was it one continuous orgasm? I could hardly tell and I didn’t care.
How nice it is for a young girl like me to have this skillful, thoughtful older man always at my disposal to do all the things to me I love best—and to teach me to love so many other things. He is so generous! He makes me come repeatedly and comes so little himself. The least I can do in return is please him, like by going nude at dinner tonight. One day I shall have lots and lots of lovers like him, but I shall never forget the good time we had this weekend—nor all the other good fucking and whipping we shall enjoy, I hope, when we return to Tokyo.
“Oh, that was so good!” said Bob, as at last we came apart. “I wish we could do that for ever!”
“But your poor cock!” I said remorsefully, gesturing at his splendid, and neglected, erection.
“Never mind! It will get plenty of action later. But sometimes it’s so nice just to lie here and worship your lovely pussy. And still have the fucking to look forward to.”
I just giggled, blushed and didn’t argue.
Of course I didn’t go to the restaurant totally nude. I wore pretty high-heeled shoes, snugly fitted the way I like them to show off the elegant curved arch of my little feet. Then, just in case they were needed, I locked black leather cuffs set with strong D-rings round my wrists and ankles. I brushed my hair and checked that my pussy hair was still neat and enticing. Then I was ready.
“How nice you look, Ma'am!” said my little waitress friend as she welcomed us to the restaurant.
“So do you,” I said. “What’s the theme tonight?”
“We call it ‘The Disco’,” she said.
The waitresses were all wearing very tight, very short bodikon dresses in different colours, outlining their pretty figures perfectly. It was obvious from the lack of panty-lines that they were wearing nothing else. In their micro-dresses and slender high heels, they looked just like the pretty, provocative girls who go to Tokyo discos, flaunting their sexuality as they dance. The effect was charming and I could see Bob’s erection responding.
I ate very little and soon the girls were inviting me to join them on stage.
“May I? Oh, please may I?”
“Don’t worry, Taka-chan,” said Bob. “Go and enjoy yourself. I’ll come and have you later.”
“Taka? Is that your name? It’s nice!” said one of my companions. I recognised her as one of the girls who had helped me clean up after my public display with Bob the previous evening.
“Well, Takako in fact,” I said.
“Such a pity you won’t be here tomorrow!” she continued. “We’ll be doing ‘The Dungeon’. We’d have invited you up on stage for that.”
“Will you be one of the girls being whipped?” I asked politely.
“Oooh yes! We drew lots to decide who was to be punished, and I was one of the lucky ones!”
“I’ll be thinking of you,” I said.
I certainly would, I reflected, lying lonely and unsatisfied in my narrow bed at home in Tokyo. Still, at least I would have plenty of memories to summon up as I masturbated.
We were all up on stage by now, drawing appreciative attention from the audience. The sound system started playing loud, fast disco music. To begin with I had the thrill of being the only nude girl on show, but soon the other girls began to strip, their tight dresses peeled off and thrown aside as unwanted.
We started dancing vigorously to the music, shaking our breasts and bottoms to the rhythm. Some of the lady guests climbed up onto the stage too, either nude already or undressing quickly as they joined us in the dance. Cameras flashed, roving spotlights caressed our nakedness, and the men gathered where they could look up at us. We danced more and more provocatively, the girls at the front of the stage high-kicking so that their admirers could get a good view of their pussies, glistening with the cunt-juice called up by the lascivious atmosphere. I was completely possessed by the sexiness of the dance, and wanted desperately to be fucked.
Suddenly I saw one of the girls jump off the stage right into the arms of a naked man. Others did the same, and of course I was one of them! I targeted a man and leaped on him with a cry of “Oh, fuck me! Fuck me!”. He leaned back in his seat and seized me round the waist, quickly sliding me into position so that his erection could enter me. I fucked him fast, keeping up the rhythm of the dance, and soon I was back on stage, my eager pussy now glistening with more than just cunt-juice.
Again and again I leaped on my willing victims, perfecting the skill of landing on exactly the right spot to drag their cocks into my hungry cunt. I felt empowered, capable of fucking every man in the world. I could never, never have enough of this sublime experience. Sex, I thought, is what I am made for, and sex is what I want. Sex with great crowds of men, their huge erections teased beyond endurance and taking their turn as my three greedy love-holes impale themselves on their cocks and drink their rich cum. I never want it to stop. How could I, when I can never have enough?
But after about an hour the vigorous dance came to an end and the music was replaced by something slower and more sensuous.
“Look, Taka-chan is wearing cuffs!” the girl called out to the others. “We must tie her up! You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked me anxiously.
“Of course!”
The others wheeled forward a sort of padded table and I lay down on it, my face to the sky. They tied my wrists and ankles to the corners so that I was tightly stretched. At once they started petting and stroking me, pouring lotion over me, playing with the rings piercing my nipples, and running their fingers in and out of my cunt and arse as they dabbled in the mixed juices of so many men. Now I too had a series of tasty pussies sitting on my face and fitting firmly over my mouth, making my partners squirm and squeal with pleasure as I tried to do to them the lovely things Bob did to me.
Soon I was at the bottom of a pile of wriggling slippery bodies, feeling as if every tiny bit of me was orgasmic. Of course I couldn’t see easily what was going on elsewhere on the stage, but Bob told me afterwards that most of the audience, men and women, had joined in, the men fucking the waitresses or each other’s partners and enjoying the pretty sight of multiple sexual joy all around them. Sometimes they pulled out of their partners just in time to spray their cum over the heap of femininity sprawled over my table, adding their cream to the lotion in which we were delightedly sliding and slithering.
At last I heard a voice I recognised speaking softly in my ear.
“Taka-chan, do you think your friends would let me have you now?”
Of course they did, releasing me from my bonds and following excitedly as Bob led me to an unoccupied corner of the stage.
“Do you want me to clean up first?” I asked anxiously. “I’m all slippery with lotion and … and …”
“No, no—I’d like to have you like that.”
So Bob took me standing up, then leaning forward against the wall, then clinging to him with my arms and legs: his strong erection sliding in and out of my slippery holes as my body gleamed in the light and my audience cheered and urged us on.
At last I fell to my knees on front of him and slid his juicy slimy cock into my mouth. It took him several lovely minutes, but at last his glorious cum spurted against my throat. After rolling it deliciously round my mouth, I let it all drool slutily onto my chin and pour down to mingle with all the other liquids coating my breasts.
*
“I have a surprise for you,” said Bob as we walked slowly back to our suite. “Something to help you remember our last night.”
“Oooh! What is it?”
“It’s a surprise. I told you. Wait and see.”
Inside our room was a large object hidden under a sheet.
“May I see?” I begged.
“Not yet. Go and take a shower. Make yourself beautiful. Wear cuffs and your sexiest high-heels. Nothing else. Bring some ropes.”
“Ropes? Ooh, yes!”
I showered as quickly as I could and returned with a big selection of ropes. Bob had removed the sheet from the equipment, and I stood beside him looking at it. It had two square frames almost as tall as me, with a heavy horizontal beam linking the two.
“Have you ever ridden a pony before?” asked Bob.
“Not like this,” I replied dubiously. “Where did you get it?”
“I borrowed it from the hotel management. They have all sorts of equipment for guests to use.”
“What does it do?”
“You sit in the middle,” said Bob, “with this beam between your legs. It’s triangular, you see, with the edge upwards.”
“Will it hurt?” I asked, with a mixture of anxiety and excitement.
Bob took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly.
“Oh yes, Takako, it will hurt. It will hurt slightly. You will love it. And I shall love watching you ride it, and listening to you scream and beg for mercy. I won’t let it stop till you beg for mercy, you know.”
I immediately determined that nothing would make me beg for mercy. However great the torture, I would stand it. I longed to be forced to stand it.
“Are you ready?”
“Oh, yes!”
“Stand in the middle facing this way.” I swung one leg over the beam. “Now lower yourself till you are sitting on it.”
The serrated edge of the triangular beam fitted snugly into my crotch and stimulated my pussy. Bob took a long rope, knotted it firmly round my waist and tied the other end to the frame in front of me. Then he made me lean back—back till my shoulders pressed against the frame behind me and my arms dangled over it. He tied my wrist-cuffs to the frame, and pulled my feet well back so as to do the same with my ankle-cuffs. I was now bent into a curve—almost into a complete circle.
“Very nice,” said Bob. “Just a little decoration …”
He clipped wires to the rings piercing my breasts, took from the bedside table the pretty clamps I had worn for my whipping that morning, and gently fixed them to my nipples just in front of the rings. Once again I felt the luscious bite of the metal jaws.
“Oh, how lovely!” I said to the ceiling.
My toes were still just in contact with the floor. I felt myself being lifted on the beam as Bob turned an old-fashioned crank. All my weight was now pressing onto the beam embedded in my crotch. Leaning backward as I was I could feel it in my arsehole as well as my pussy.
“Now,” said Bob, “this is an old-fashioned device which was used to get confessions out of girls. Or to give the interrogators some fun, I expect.”
“And the girl being interrogated,” I managed to say.
“Yes, exactly. The victim must have enjoyed it more than anyone. That is why it was so silly to subject Japanese girls to this delicious sexual torture. They would say anything to keep it going, they just loved it so much. Anyway, in the old days the girl’s best friends were forced to work the mechanism, under threat of being subjected to it themselves if they didn’t do what they were told and do it properly.”
“What fun they all must have had!” I said.
“But now of course the machine works on electricity. In a moment I will turn it on. I think you will enjoy it. I know I will. When you’ve had enough, just tell me.”
“Rubbish!” I said. But not aloud.
Well, I expect you can guess what it felt like when Bob plugged in the machine. The heavy beam vibrated between my legs, varying between different movements and intensities. Electrical circuits hidden in the edge of the beam delivered deliciously random shocks to my arse and cunt and, through the wires clipped to my rings, to my breasts. Add to that the increasing pain of my arched posture stretched on the machine and you can imagine the exquisite torment I enjoyed.
I screamed, of course. Screamed joyfully and with all my heart. I was proud to show my happiness to Bob and to anyone who could hear me through the open window. Of course I never wanted this blissful torture to stop, but after a few minutes it did.
“Oh, why? Why?” I begged tearfully, looking up at Bob.
“That’s only the beginning,” he said. You didn’t imagine that was all it did, surely?”
I could say nothing. I just looked at him, my mouth open, longing to know what he meant.
“There are special—what shall I call them? Attachments.”
He held something before my eyes. When I was able to focus I saw that it was a huge dildo, an erect cock beautifully modelled in black plastic and decorated with little silver studs. And then something else: a matching finger, long and slim.
“You are sitting over the sockets into which these toys fit. Let me show you.”
He squatted down on the floor below my eye-level. Soon I felt the ridge along the top of the beam which had been stimulating my cunt and arsehole withdraw and other things take its place. First the dildo began to seek entrance. Its plastic surface was smooth and frictionless and it fitted snugly into me, only the many metal studs tickling my pussy-lips as they passed. Then it was the turn of the anal finger: that was a little more difficult and I had to wriggle it carefully into place as Bob gently pushed it up from below. At last the penetration was complete. I felt the two instruments snap into place below me as the walls of my love-holes closed in and embraced them. Bob stood, and adjusted my ropes to ensure that I was sitting motionless on my pony.
“There!” he said. “I think you will like this.”
I knew I would like it! The vibration began again, the beam moving gently as the dildo and the finger throbbed and twisted. But there was more—as I had already guessed the silver metal studs along the shafts were not there only for decoration: they conveyed little electric shocks along the full length of my love-holes, the elaborate tingling configurations setting up shimmering patterns of orgasmic beauty.
As I became more accustomed to the stimulation, Bob adjusted the controls and increased its intensity. He tightened the clamps gripping my nipples and adjusted the electrical contacts: the torment of my breasts began again. Soon the machine was giving me not just pleasurable tickling but the most glorious sexual torture I had ever experienced. After about an hour—Bob told me later it was, I had lost all sense of time—I saw movement above my head. Focussing my eyes, I saw that Bob was leaning over me.
“Having fun?” he asked gently.
“Oh, yes, yes!” And then anxiously, “Don’t turn it off! Oh, please don’t! It’s so marvelous! I love it so!”
“No, of course I won’t. I love it too—watching you enjoying it so. But I want to get some sleep, and so do other people. So I’ll just …”
I realised he was holding the ball-gag and face-mask I had shown him earlier. He quickly slipped the gag into my mouth, then fastened the buckles tight round the back of my head.
“Yes, you look even more delightfully helpless like that.” He bent over me again and kissed the tip of my nose where it emerged from the thick straps binding my face. “There! Sleep well, darling, Sweet dreams.”
And he was gone.
Sleep, indeed, I thought. How can I? And how could I bear to miss a second of this? But somehow I did sleep, or at least faint or become unconscious. In my dreams the pony became a real live monster, carrying me across the world and through the air, torturing every millimetre of my tingling body, filling my every hole with huge white-hot cocks, as it bore me to heaven.
Once again I woke to morning sunshine. I was still bound to my beloved mount, but the mechanism had stopped and the mask had been removed from my face. Bob kissed me, his tongue lapping the accumulated saliva from my mouth.
“Oh, don’t stop!” I begged. “I haven’t had nearly enough!”
“Darling Takako,” he said, “You are the most fantastic girl I have ever known. If I could I’d leave you on this machine for ever. But we have to think about breakfast, and packing, and boring things like that.”
He released me from the torture machine and supported me to the bathroom where he helped me wash.
“Time for a fuck,” he said, when I had eased my stiff muscles and refreshed myself.
He carried me to the bed and laid me out there. It was a beautiful, straightforward fuck: his lovely cock visited all three of my holes and finished in my mouth.
“It’s been a lovely weekend,” I said, as I enjoyed my second breakfast, this time of fruit and toast. “I wish it could have lasted longer.”
“So do I.”
“But I have to get home before my parents do. They’ll expect to see me there looking like a good girl in my school clothes, doing my holiday tasks. School starts next week.”
“Will I be able to see you then?” asked Bob.
“Of course! If you want to, that is …” I added modestly.
“I do.”
“There are so many more things you could teach me. Helping me learn what I will need when I start my career.”
“And what sort of career will that be?” he asked teasingly.
“As a nude model, an actress in sex-videos, and … and …”
I suddenly realised that, sometime during the weekend, I had made my decision. Natsuko was right. That was what I wanted to do. Something inside me had known, had decided for me, and I had only just understood. There was no going back. I must tell Natsuko as soon as we returned to Tokyo. We had plans to make.
“What sort of costume?”
“Well, I could dress as a schoolgirl … or as a Roman slave-girl …”
I was thinking of the pretty waitresses and their daily change of costume. Last night they had been in a modified French maid uniform with naked breasts and miniskirts. What would they be wearing tonight? It was resort policy not to tell the guests in advance: it was meant to be a surprise. Would tonight be the dungeon theme my friends had told me about, and if it was, would I be allowed to volunteer for punishment?
“Well, you’re my slave-girl in any case, aren’t you?” Bob was saying, petting me and playing with my breasts.
“Yes, Master …” Suddenly I had an idea. “You remember what you wanted me to wear last night?”
“Nothing at all, you mean?”
“Yes … you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I asked, tickling his balls with the tips of my fingernails and smiling coyly up at him.
“No teasing? Of yourself or anyone else?”
“No … completely nude … nude, nude, nude for everyone to see and enjoy.” I was dancing and twirling round the room now in pure happiness. I came to rest again in his arms. “Of course that means I’ll have to be fucked by anyone who wants me, like I am when I’m nude at a strip-club. Fucked, fucked, fucked … again and again while everyone watches!” I started dancing round the room again. “Oh, I love it! You know the wonderful thing about being nude at a strip-club? It’s being surrounded by all those beautiful erections! They’re mine, mine, mine! I made them by being a sexy nude girl! They weren’t there before I made them! So they’re mine and I won’t leave till I’ve fucked every single one of them!” I snuggled into his waiting arms again. “You won’t mind, will you?” I asked anxiously.
“Of course not.”
“Oooh, it’s making me wet just thinking about it.”
“So it is. We’ve got plenty of time—come and sit on my face.”
“Mm’mm, yes! I’ll hold you hard so you can’t escape! You’ll be my prisoner and have to suck me and lick me forever!”
“Lovely. But don’t let’s be late for dinner. You’ll want plenty of time to show yourself off nude and make everyone want you.”
“Oooh, yes! But you want me to sit on your face first, don’t you?”
“Of course. I just said so. Do you need anything to drink first, or are you …?”
I knew what he meant.
“No, I have plenty.”
I made him wait for it all the same. On his instructions I sat on the bed, his neck and shoulders resting on my crossed legs and his face buried in my pussy. By bringing my knees and feet closer together I was able to imprison him, holding his mouth tightly against me while his hands on my waist and hips pulled me even more firmly into the close unison we both loved. He licked and sucked me until at last I let loose the golden stream and let him gulp down the warm liquid in great mouthfuls. So delicious - or so he always said. Then he thanked me by teasing my clit and pussy and arsehole, bringing me to orgasm after orgasm—or was it one continuous orgasm? I could hardly tell and I didn’t care.
How nice it is for a young girl like me to have this skillful, thoughtful older man always at my disposal to do all the things to me I love best—and to teach me to love so many other things. He is so generous! He makes me come repeatedly and comes so little himself. The least I can do in return is please him, like by going nude at dinner tonight. One day I shall have lots and lots of lovers like him, but I shall never forget the good time we had this weekend—nor all the other good fucking and whipping we shall enjoy, I hope, when we return to Tokyo.
“Oh, that was so good!” said Bob, as at last we came apart. “I wish we could do that for ever!”
“But your poor cock!” I said remorsefully, gesturing at his splendid, and neglected, erection.
“Never mind! It will get plenty of action later. But sometimes it’s so nice just to lie here and worship your lovely pussy. And still have the fucking to look forward to.”
I just giggled, blushed and didn’t argue.
Of course I didn’t go to the restaurant totally nude. I wore pretty high-heeled shoes, snugly fitted the way I like them to show off the elegant curved arch of my little feet. Then, just in case they were needed, I locked black leather cuffs set with strong D-rings round my wrists and ankles. I brushed my hair and checked that my pussy hair was still neat and enticing. Then I was ready.
“How nice you look, Ma'am!” said my little waitress friend as she welcomed us to the restaurant.
“So do you,” I said. “What’s the theme tonight?”
“We call it ‘The Disco’,” she said.
The waitresses were all wearing very tight, very short bodikon dresses in different colours, outlining their pretty figures perfectly. It was obvious from the lack of panty-lines that they were wearing nothing else. In their micro-dresses and slender high heels, they looked just like the pretty, provocative girls who go to Tokyo discos, flaunting their sexuality as they dance. The effect was charming and I could see Bob’s erection responding.
I ate very little and soon the girls were inviting me to join them on stage.
“May I? Oh, please may I?”
“Don’t worry, Taka-chan,” said Bob. “Go and enjoy yourself. I’ll come and have you later.”
“Taka? Is that your name? It’s nice!” said one of my companions. I recognised her as one of the girls who had helped me clean up after my public display with Bob the previous evening.
“Well, Takako in fact,” I said.
“Such a pity you won’t be here tomorrow!” she continued. “We’ll be doing ‘The Dungeon’. We’d have invited you up on stage for that.”
“Will you be one of the girls being whipped?” I asked politely.
“Oooh yes! We drew lots to decide who was to be punished, and I was one of the lucky ones!”
“I’ll be thinking of you,” I said.
I certainly would, I reflected, lying lonely and unsatisfied in my narrow bed at home in Tokyo. Still, at least I would have plenty of memories to summon up as I masturbated.
We were all up on stage by now, drawing appreciative attention from the audience. The sound system started playing loud, fast disco music. To begin with I had the thrill of being the only nude girl on show, but soon the other girls began to strip, their tight dresses peeled off and thrown aside as unwanted.
We started dancing vigorously to the music, shaking our breasts and bottoms to the rhythm. Some of the lady guests climbed up onto the stage too, either nude already or undressing quickly as they joined us in the dance. Cameras flashed, roving spotlights caressed our nakedness, and the men gathered where they could look up at us. We danced more and more provocatively, the girls at the front of the stage high-kicking so that their admirers could get a good view of their pussies, glistening with the cunt-juice called up by the lascivious atmosphere. I was completely possessed by the sexiness of the dance, and wanted desperately to be fucked.
Suddenly I saw one of the girls jump off the stage right into the arms of a naked man. Others did the same, and of course I was one of them! I targeted a man and leaped on him with a cry of “Oh, fuck me! Fuck me!”. He leaned back in his seat and seized me round the waist, quickly sliding me into position so that his erection could enter me. I fucked him fast, keeping up the rhythm of the dance, and soon I was back on stage, my eager pussy now glistening with more than just cunt-juice.
Again and again I leaped on my willing victims, perfecting the skill of landing on exactly the right spot to drag their cocks into my hungry cunt. I felt empowered, capable of fucking every man in the world. I could never, never have enough of this sublime experience. Sex, I thought, is what I am made for, and sex is what I want. Sex with great crowds of men, their huge erections teased beyond endurance and taking their turn as my three greedy love-holes impale themselves on their cocks and drink their rich cum. I never want it to stop. How could I, when I can never have enough?
But after about an hour the vigorous dance came to an end and the music was replaced by something slower and more sensuous.
“Look, Taka-chan is wearing cuffs!” the girl called out to the others. “We must tie her up! You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked me anxiously.
“Of course!”
The others wheeled forward a sort of padded table and I lay down on it, my face to the sky. They tied my wrists and ankles to the corners so that I was tightly stretched. At once they started petting and stroking me, pouring lotion over me, playing with the rings piercing my nipples, and running their fingers in and out of my cunt and arse as they dabbled in the mixed juices of so many men. Now I too had a series of tasty pussies sitting on my face and fitting firmly over my mouth, making my partners squirm and squeal with pleasure as I tried to do to them the lovely things Bob did to me.
Soon I was at the bottom of a pile of wriggling slippery bodies, feeling as if every tiny bit of me was orgasmic. Of course I couldn’t see easily what was going on elsewhere on the stage, but Bob told me afterwards that most of the audience, men and women, had joined in, the men fucking the waitresses or each other’s partners and enjoying the pretty sight of multiple sexual joy all around them. Sometimes they pulled out of their partners just in time to spray their cum over the heap of femininity sprawled over my table, adding their cream to the lotion in which we were delightedly sliding and slithering.
At last I heard a voice I recognised speaking softly in my ear.
“Taka-chan, do you think your friends would let me have you now?”
Of course they did, releasing me from my bonds and following excitedly as Bob led me to an unoccupied corner of the stage.
“Do you want me to clean up first?” I asked anxiously. “I’m all slippery with lotion and … and …”
“No, no—I’d like to have you like that.”
So Bob took me standing up, then leaning forward against the wall, then clinging to him with my arms and legs: his strong erection sliding in and out of my slippery holes as my body gleamed in the light and my audience cheered and urged us on.
At last I fell to my knees on front of him and slid his juicy slimy cock into my mouth. It took him several lovely minutes, but at last his glorious cum spurted against my throat. After rolling it deliciously round my mouth, I let it all drool slutily onto my chin and pour down to mingle with all the other liquids coating my breasts.
*
“I have a surprise for you,” said Bob as we walked slowly back to our suite. “Something to help you remember our last night.”
“Oooh! What is it?”
“It’s a surprise. I told you. Wait and see.”
Inside our room was a large object hidden under a sheet.
“May I see?” I begged.
“Not yet. Go and take a shower. Make yourself beautiful. Wear cuffs and your sexiest high-heels. Nothing else. Bring some ropes.”
“Ropes? Ooh, yes!”
I showered as quickly as I could and returned with a big selection of ropes. Bob had removed the sheet from the equipment, and I stood beside him looking at it. It had two square frames almost as tall as me, with a heavy horizontal beam linking the two.
“Have you ever ridden a pony before?” asked Bob.
“Not like this,” I replied dubiously. “Where did you get it?”
“I borrowed it from the hotel management. They have all sorts of equipment for guests to use.”
“What does it do?”
“You sit in the middle,” said Bob, “with this beam between your legs. It’s triangular, you see, with the edge upwards.”
“Will it hurt?” I asked, with a mixture of anxiety and excitement.
Bob took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly.
“Oh yes, Takako, it will hurt. It will hurt slightly. You will love it. And I shall love watching you ride it, and listening to you scream and beg for mercy. I won’t let it stop till you beg for mercy, you know.”
I immediately determined that nothing would make me beg for mercy. However great the torture, I would stand it. I longed to be forced to stand it.
“Are you ready?”
“Oh, yes!”
“Stand in the middle facing this way.” I swung one leg over the beam. “Now lower yourself till you are sitting on it.”
The serrated edge of the triangular beam fitted snugly into my crotch and stimulated my pussy. Bob took a long rope, knotted it firmly round my waist and tied the other end to the frame in front of me. Then he made me lean back—back till my shoulders pressed against the frame behind me and my arms dangled over it. He tied my wrist-cuffs to the frame, and pulled my feet well back so as to do the same with my ankle-cuffs. I was now bent into a curve—almost into a complete circle.
“Very nice,” said Bob. “Just a little decoration …”
He clipped wires to the rings piercing my breasts, took from the bedside table the pretty clamps I had worn for my whipping that morning, and gently fixed them to my nipples just in front of the rings. Once again I felt the luscious bite of the metal jaws.
“Oh, how lovely!” I said to the ceiling.
My toes were still just in contact with the floor. I felt myself being lifted on the beam as Bob turned an old-fashioned crank. All my weight was now pressing onto the beam embedded in my crotch. Leaning backward as I was I could feel it in my arsehole as well as my pussy.
“Now,” said Bob, “this is an old-fashioned device which was used to get confessions out of girls. Or to give the interrogators some fun, I expect.”
“And the girl being interrogated,” I managed to say.
“Yes, exactly. The victim must have enjoyed it more than anyone. That is why it was so silly to subject Japanese girls to this delicious sexual torture. They would say anything to keep it going, they just loved it so much. Anyway, in the old days the girl’s best friends were forced to work the mechanism, under threat of being subjected to it themselves if they didn’t do what they were told and do it properly.”
“What fun they all must have had!” I said.
“But now of course the machine works on electricity. In a moment I will turn it on. I think you will enjoy it. I know I will. When you’ve had enough, just tell me.”
“Rubbish!” I said. But not aloud.
Well, I expect you can guess what it felt like when Bob plugged in the machine. The heavy beam vibrated between my legs, varying between different movements and intensities. Electrical circuits hidden in the edge of the beam delivered deliciously random shocks to my arse and cunt and, through the wires clipped to my rings, to my breasts. Add to that the increasing pain of my arched posture stretched on the machine and you can imagine the exquisite torment I enjoyed.
I screamed, of course. Screamed joyfully and with all my heart. I was proud to show my happiness to Bob and to anyone who could hear me through the open window. Of course I never wanted this blissful torture to stop, but after a few minutes it did.
“Oh, why? Why?” I begged tearfully, looking up at Bob.
“That’s only the beginning,” he said. You didn’t imagine that was all it did, surely?”
I could say nothing. I just looked at him, my mouth open, longing to know what he meant.
“There are special—what shall I call them? Attachments.”
He held something before my eyes. When I was able to focus I saw that it was a huge dildo, an erect cock beautifully modelled in black plastic and decorated with little silver studs. And then something else: a matching finger, long and slim.
“You are sitting over the sockets into which these toys fit. Let me show you.”
He squatted down on the floor below my eye-level. Soon I felt the ridge along the top of the beam which had been stimulating my cunt and arsehole withdraw and other things take its place. First the dildo began to seek entrance. Its plastic surface was smooth and frictionless and it fitted snugly into me, only the many metal studs tickling my pussy-lips as they passed. Then it was the turn of the anal finger: that was a little more difficult and I had to wriggle it carefully into place as Bob gently pushed it up from below. At last the penetration was complete. I felt the two instruments snap into place below me as the walls of my love-holes closed in and embraced them. Bob stood, and adjusted my ropes to ensure that I was sitting motionless on my pony.
“There!” he said. “I think you will like this.”
I knew I would like it! The vibration began again, the beam moving gently as the dildo and the finger throbbed and twisted. But there was more—as I had already guessed the silver metal studs along the shafts were not there only for decoration: they conveyed little electric shocks along the full length of my love-holes, the elaborate tingling configurations setting up shimmering patterns of orgasmic beauty.
As I became more accustomed to the stimulation, Bob adjusted the controls and increased its intensity. He tightened the clamps gripping my nipples and adjusted the electrical contacts: the torment of my breasts began again. Soon the machine was giving me not just pleasurable tickling but the most glorious sexual torture I had ever experienced. After about an hour—Bob told me later it was, I had lost all sense of time—I saw movement above my head. Focussing my eyes, I saw that Bob was leaning over me.
“Having fun?” he asked gently.
“Oh, yes, yes!” And then anxiously, “Don’t turn it off! Oh, please don’t! It’s so marvelous! I love it so!”
“No, of course I won’t. I love it too—watching you enjoying it so. But I want to get some sleep, and so do other people. So I’ll just …”
I realised he was holding the ball-gag and face-mask I had shown him earlier. He quickly slipped the gag into my mouth, then fastened the buckles tight round the back of my head.
“Yes, you look even more delightfully helpless like that.” He bent over me again and kissed the tip of my nose where it emerged from the thick straps binding my face. “There! Sleep well, darling, Sweet dreams.”
And he was gone.
Sleep, indeed, I thought. How can I? And how could I bear to miss a second of this? But somehow I did sleep, or at least faint or become unconscious. In my dreams the pony became a real live monster, carrying me across the world and through the air, torturing every millimetre of my tingling body, filling my every hole with huge white-hot cocks, as it bore me to heaven.
Once again I woke to morning sunshine. I was still bound to my beloved mount, but the mechanism had stopped and the mask had been removed from my face. Bob kissed me, his tongue lapping the accumulated saliva from my mouth.
“Oh, don’t stop!” I begged. “I haven’t had nearly enough!”
“Darling Takako,” he said, “You are the most fantastic girl I have ever known. If I could I’d leave you on this machine for ever. But we have to think about breakfast, and packing, and boring things like that.”
He released me from the torture machine and supported me to the bathroom where he helped me wash.
“Time for a fuck,” he said, when I had eased my stiff muscles and refreshed myself.
He carried me to the bed and laid me out there. It was a beautiful, straightforward fuck: his lovely cock visited all three of my holes and finished in my mouth.
“It’s been a lovely weekend,” I said, as I enjoyed my second breakfast, this time of fruit and toast. “I wish it could have lasted longer.”
“So do I.”
“But I have to get home before my parents do. They’ll expect to see me there looking like a good girl in my school clothes, doing my holiday tasks. School starts next week.”
“Will I be able to see you then?” asked Bob.
“Of course! If you want to, that is …” I added modestly.
“I do.”
“There are so many more things you could teach me. Helping me learn what I will need when I start my career.”
“And what sort of career will that be?” he asked teasingly.
“As a nude model, an actress in sex-videos, and … and …”
I suddenly realised that, sometime during the weekend, I had made my decision. Natsuko was right. That was what I wanted to do. Something inside me had known, had decided for me, and I had only just understood. There was no going back. I must tell Natsuko as soon as we returned to Tokyo. We had plans to make.
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