Moira Seduces Her Priest
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Moira's Friends free porn video
Moira's Friends
By "C.C."
My wife' Moira is a mixed-media artist with a blossoming career. I'm
rich enough not to need one--a career, that is--and when we married I
wondered a bit whether she was more attracted to me, my money, or the
spacious apartment I owned in a trendy section of the City. She had
been very willing to sign the pre-nup, so I- guess I should have left
it at that, but somehow I kept wondering.... How l wish now I had never
tried to find out!
But I did, and the way I did it was to buy a place way out in the
Country and demand we move there.
Moira wasn't happy; she hated the thought of being away from the city
life and all, but I insisted that she'd have more room to work, more
privacy, and we'd be only a couple hours' drive from the City anyway.
After all, in this age of Satellite, Internet and telecommuting....
We'd been there a few months, and I thought Moira had adjusted to it
rather well. Then, one hot summer day I went down to our Pond to clean
out the Algae, a job I could have hired out to a gardener, but I rather
enjoy working outside at times.
Most folks think Algae is slimy and squishy. Actually, it's very much
like horse hair, long and strong, and it grows in mats that seem to
stick together. I had stripped down to tight bathing trunks and was
waist-deep in the water, pulling the stuff out and flinging it on the
bank when Moira came down with a glass of lemonade. She seemed
fascinated by it: the new, pliable stuff I'd just pulled out, as well
as the stuff from earlier, already stiffening in the sun. She held it
up, inspected it closely;
"I could do a lot with this," she said, with more enthusiasm than she'd
shown since we moved in here.
"Like what, for instance'?"
"Well..." She looked at me contemplatively. "Wait here a few minutes!"
In no time, she was back with a basket full of things, including some
cream that she had me rub all over my body, face, head..., she even had
me take off my trunks ("No one will see you out here in the
wilderness!" she chuckled.) so every inch of me was covered with the
smelly stuff, rapidly drying in the hot sun. I felt a little awkward,
standing there nude and covered in goo, in front of my lovely wife...
after all, we hadn't been married long enough to completely get over
our initial shyness, but I was so glad to see her warming up to this
life that I went along with whatever she wanted.
So I tried not to gripe too much when she had me jump in the pond and I
found the cream was a depilatory - I had removed every hair on my body!
And now I was very shy indeed about getting out of the water and
letting my wife see me like this.
"Don't worry," she smiled at my blushes, "I'll soon have you covered."
And did she ever! As soon as I got out of the water, Moira began
wrapping my limbs with algae! Around and around she went, starting with
my ankles, then up my calves, doing each leg separately. The stuff was
snug to begin with, and as it began to dry in the hot sun, I could feel
it shrink to an odd, tingling tightness.
Moira wrapped each leg from ankle to thigh, then told me not to move
too much. When I protested that it was hard to stand without being able
to bend my legs, she walked me over to an old fence post and had me
hold on to it to keep myself upright. I wondered what she had in mind
as I stood there in the sun, bent forward, legs stiff.
Then she started in on my waist.
The algae was like a corset, gripping my waist firmly as Moira wrapped
it about me again and again. When she was through, I couldn't bend my
torso, and I could tell I had what looked like an hourglass figure,
with my bare bottom bubbling out between the stiffening algae at my
thighs and waist. Moira had even wrapped the algae below my chest in
such a way that my smooth flesh hung over it in an oddly feminine
breast-like shape!
Next came my arms. Moira had me extend them out and slightly down, and
when this made it hard to hold the fence post, she turned me about and
anchored my waist to it with a short length of twine. Then went on,
wrapping my arms from wrist to shoulder. She also (and this alarmed me
a bit) covered my hands, cramping them into useless half-fists. Then
she bent my arms behind me, tucking the elbows into the small of my
back, raising my algae-gloved hands toward my shoulder blades, and
wrapping them tightly in place with algae circled about my shoulders
like a harness. She pulled on this, forcing me to arch my back, then
wrapped the algae above my chest in a crossing pattern, down to my
algae-corset, leaving my chest bare and more breast-like than ever.
"Moira," I ventured, "this is getting a little uncomfortable...."
"Won't be long now, Hon." She smiled. "Almost finished." And she
extended the algae from my shoulders up my neck (careful not to wrap
too tight) like a wide collar, then around and around my head. I could
feel it shrinking into place like a tight bathing cap, holding my head
immobile as she covered everything but my face.
I felt the algae continuing to stiffen and shrink, locking me into that
stiff-legged, arched-back, chin-up, butt-thrusting, breast-flaunting,
armless posture, and I wondered what Moira was trying to achieve with
this.
"What an intriguing concept for Performance Art," she explained,
looking me up and down thoughtfully, "Organic Sculpture. And speaking
of Organic, let's try something..."
She took some algae directly from the cold pond water, swished it
around a bit in the ice from her drink, then wrapped it tightly around
my cock and balls!
"O000!" I squealed, eyes wide, as I felt the cold, cold sensation of
having my male organs encased in strong, chilling algae. I quickly went
numb down there, but not before I sensed my manhood shrinking in
reaction to the cold. Even Moira commented on it.
"My," She said, "You were never very big down there to begin with,
Darling, but now you're positively tiny! I wonder how much further
you'll shrink as the wrappings dry."
"Take it off!" I squeaked.
"That wouldn't be very modest, would it, Dear?" She smiled, "After all,
you're Organic Sculpture now, and I'm sure a shy thing like you doesn't
want everyone seeing those silly little appendages in front."
"What do you mean?" surrounded by the stiffening algae, my face must
have looked laughably shocked, "Seeing me? Like this?"
"Well, not just like that, Sweet," Moira said casually, "After all, you
wouldn't want anyone you know to recognize you in that silly fix, and
in fact, I'm not sure I want anyone seeing what a wimpy-looking thing I
married. So I'm going to see that no one can tell it's you! And I
suggest you quit that useless squawking -unless you want your mouth
stuffed with algae!"
With that as a threat, I stood quiet and helpless, imprisoned by the
strong fibers rapidly stiffening all over me as Moira took a couple of
syringes from the basket.
"This is a substance used by some performers I know--" She pressed one
of the tiny needles to each side of my chest. I felt tiny pricks of
pain, followed by a tingling sensation. "--called Swellers. Let's see
now.... a couple more for your bottom..."
Two more quick stings on my butt, and the tingling spread across my
seat.
"... and just a little bit for your lips.... There! Now let's get you
down to the House, so I can really get started!"
Moira untied my waist from the fence post, then cut a limb from a
willow tree and swished it experimentally through the air.
"Just in case you need a little encouragement walking down to the
house," She said cheerfully, "Or try to disobey me in any way. Now get
started, Darling." And she gave me a swift swat across the ass!
Owwwl The feel of the slender willow switch across my tender bum was
enough to send me lurching awkwardly - stiff-legged, back-arched, chin-
raised, waist-narrowed and with my arms pinned tightly to my back -- as
-best I could down the path to the house. But as we rounded a bend in
the trail, I suddenly saw in the distance--
"Cars in the drive!" I squeaked, "Moira, there are people here!" I
balked for an instant, only to have the willow limb cross painfully
over my rump again!
Whacckkk!
"Of course there are people here," Moira addressed me as you would a
child, "And they made good time, too, considering how far they had to
drive.., thanks to you. If you haven't guessed yet, Dear, I invited a
few of the Arts Crowd out to see my latest inspiration -you!- but
they'll think you're just a professional model. No one will know it's
you. So if you don't want me to tell them, and subject yourself to a
lot of embarrassment, you'd best go along with my plans for the
evening."
"But-but.... are you sure I won't be recognized?"
She just looked at me and laughed. And as we approached the sliding
door leading from the back deck into the house, I saw the reason for
her merriment reflected back at me in the glass - I had breasts! Two
big, firm, melons jutted above my algae-corset, jiggling saucily with
every ass-swishing step I took. And below my nipped-in waist, my hips
and butt had similarly swelled out into round, bouncy contours. Except
for the tiny green-wrapped package at my crotch, I looked totally
feminine. And as we drew nearer to the glass doors, I could see now
that my lips had also been enlarged into a full, sensuous, pouty mouth!
I don't know how I would have reacted if I'd had a moment to study my
reflection. But just then, the door slid open, revealing the Great Room
filled with guests!
"Moira darling!" Julie, a short-haired, mannish woman who used to share
a studio with my wife brushed past me to embrace her warmly. It knocked
me off balance, and I staggered inside, to be caught in the firm hands
of Jack Maxx, a muscular dancer dressed in his usual skin-tight black
leotard. As he righted me, his hands roaming across my bountiful
curves, I tried to buck. But all I could manage in the stiffened algae
coating was a mild quiver that brought a smile to Jack's too-close
lips!
"Passionate, eh?" He tweaked a nipple playfully and grinned even wider
as it stiffened involuntarily.
"And what's this?" I flushed a deep red as his fingers went down to my
tiny, tightly-wrapped organs and held them like he was weighing a ripe
plum. "Not much, I guess... But boy, look at this ass!"
His hands went around to my newly-rounded and enlarged bottom-globes
and bounced them lewdly. I blushed even deeper and bucked again.
"Why she's air-humping!" Doris, a cute young artist with deep black
hair sweeping gently down to her shoulders and neat bangs across her
forehead scampered up to me, her breasts thrusting under a tight T-
shirt, her creamy ass threatening to spill out beneath her too-short
cut-offs. Before I married Moira, Doris and I had been something of an
item, and I shivered in my snug wrappings, fearing she'd recognize me.
"What a pretty face," her dark eyes sparkled as she ran a hand over my
algae-framed features, "And somehow familiar. Where have I seen you
before, Sweetie?"
"She won't talk," Moira turned from Julie's embrace to explain. "She's
rather shy, you see, and this Performance as Organic Sculpture is also
something of a Therapy Session for her."
"Her??" Doris stroked the tiny package of my male organs, then ran a
soft hand over my huge breasts. "Hmmm. I can see where she must be
awfully confused. But look how she reacts...."
She began delicately teasing my exposed nipples, caressing my round
bottom and jiggling my crotch-pack naughtily as kissed my big lips
passionately, darting her tongue in my mouth. I moaned with desire....
which quickly changed to Agony as my organ tried to swell in its
strong-tiny confines, squeezing my balls painfully!
"MMMMMmmmmUUUMMMMmmmm'" Doris broke off the kiss and I suddenly
realized the only thing holding me up was Jack Maxx's strong arms
around me. "Looks like she responds to both sexes, whoever she isl" And
she turned her attention to Moira.
I had no time to listen to their conversation, however. Quentin, a
slender, petite fellow in pastels hovered up to me, fascinated by my
half-sexed appearance, hands dancing all over my exposed flesh. An
eternity later, he was joined by two leatherdykes with radical punk
hairdos who discussed piercing me:
"A ring in the crotch, of course," One of them, taller and purple-
haired, squeezed my package with long-nailed fingers. "With a chain
attatched to a butt-plug."
"And a few in the ears, of course," Her shorter, rounded companion
Suggested, "Joined to her lips, so she must keep her mouth open."
"Chains from her nipples to her lower lips will help that," Purple-hair
put in.
"Oh, and how about a piercing in her tongue, hooked to her lower lip so
she has to keep her tongue out?" Quentin added hopefully.
"Sorry folks." Moira said, to my vast relief, "But the theme of this
little project is Organic Sculpture; I'm afraid rings and chains would
clash with her natural look."
"Are you trying to tell us that all this is...." Jack Maxx rubbed his
hands over the dried green/brown stuff that covered me. "....What the
hell is it, anyway?"
Moira explained that it was just Algae, but at first they wouldn't
believe her. So he suggested that they bring some down from the pond so
she could show its properties. In no time, My big pick-up was up the
trail and back again, the bed filled with soppy Algae.
Now Moira's friends dragged me out on the deck and she started on me in
earnest. First they backed me up against one of the uprights that
support the guardrails and bound my legs to it with the algae, wrapping
them around and around till I was One with the post -- which rested
just under my ample butt! Quentin cut off a length off the end of a
broom handle and parked it between my bottom-cheeks, so that the
rounded end poked me in such a way that I wouldn't want to move at all!
Next Julie ran algae from the top of my head-wrappings to the bottom of
my bound elbows, pulling it tight and tighter, till I had to arch w-a-
y-y back, and weaving it so tightly I felt like a bow stretched near
the breaking point -- and then I realized that as the stuff dried, it
would shrink, arching me even further!
"She looks like the masthead on a ship," Julie commented.
"Wouldn't that be a kick?" Doris giggled, "To paint her up and rig her
to the front of Quentin's yacht, just as she is now, with those big
breasts sticking out?"
"And then take her out for a Sail?" Moira added mischievously "Where
everyone could see her?"
"Or maybe just leave the boat tied up to the dock, so everyone could
see the living masthead up close," Quentin stroked the algae over my
genitals suggestively, "It might be rather interesting, seeing her rise
and fall with the tide."
They left me tied to the post while someone rolled out the grille and
began barbecuing steaks. Moira brought out a stack of them, which she
laid atop my upthrust breasts while the grille warmed up. The feel of
the cold meat on my sensitive nipples had an obvious effect, and when
Moira put them on the grille, the two leatherdykes delighted in licking
the beef-blood off my boobs, running their tongues over my sensitive
flesh till I was almost sobbing with a mixture of arousal and anguish.
After Dinner, someone wanted to see if I could be put into any more
interesting positions. Moira produced a razor knife and cut me loose
from the post, then cut away sections of my wrappings till my arms and
legs could be moved.
"Anyone got any cute ideas?" She asked.
And I'm afraid they did. The next thing I knew, I was curled up in a
tight ball with my head between my legs, doubled over so severely that
I could actually see my own bottom -- big, round and right up close....
And coming nearer as the algae dried!
"Makes her nipples a little hard to reach," Purple-hair commented.
"Yes, but look at this," Moira rolled me over till my face and bottom
were upraised. "See? You could make love sitting on her, with one
partner on her tush and the other on her face."
"That wouldn't work; she'd roll too much."
"I bet she wouldn't."
"Would too."
"Well I'll just show you. Help me out here, Jack."
A feeling of loss of identity, of total betrayal, washed over me as I
looked helplessly up at my wife and the muscular dancer. Kissing.
Caressing.
Jack undressed Moira, slowly, sensuously, stroking her curves as he
did. I was dimly aware of the crowd of our friends watching
breathlessly as her gorgeous form was revealed, then Jack peeled off
his leotard and they straddled me. All I could see now was the tops of
their thighs and their genitals, Jack long, rampant and studly. Moira
glistening wet with arousal. Then they settled into place, Moira
sitting firmly on my face as Jack perched atop my butt, his hairy balls
tickling the smooth, soft flesh of my bottom.
My universe became a dark, sensuous prison, covered with the thrusting,
heaving crotches of my wife and the muscular dancer as they moved atop
me. I didn't know which was worst: the embarrassing intimate contact of
Jack's potent groin on my ass; the humiliating pungency of Moira seated
on my face, her excitement flowing freely over me.... or the terrible
arousal I felt at seeing the sexual fireworks so close-up!
How long it lasted I couldn't say. Time seemed to have lost meaning as
the bodies moved atop me. Slowly at first. Then faster. Then stopped
for a breathless moment. Then bucked and exploded into cries of mutual
climax that were only partly muffled by the thighs over my ears.
They sat there a moment, basking in the afterglow as Jack's body
covered with a sheen of manly sweat and Moira pressed herself against
him, breathing deeply. Then Jack pulled out and rose, and I could
almost see daylight again -- blocked by the view of his dripping tool
as the juices of their passion flowed out of my wife and all over me.
Later -- much later -- my bondage was changed again, so that I was
laying straight out, wrapped in the stiff green stuff like a mummy,
legs tightly together, arms crossed under my ample breasts and face
almost completely wrapped.
Moira had revealed my identity to her friends, and the resulting
laughter at my expense was bad enough -- but the general agreement that
I deserved this treatment for making her move out here to the Country
was even worse. Doris in particular seemed intrigued, by my
predicament, and she insisted on removing her panties and sitting on my
face while they discussed my future.
"I haven't got it all worked out yet," Moira said, "But I have a friend
who specializes in supplying passports and other ID documents to people
willing to pay for them. I think I can get her to make up some papers
for Jack here, so he can pass as my husband."
"You want Jack to assume Richard's identity? Why?"
"Well, like I say, I'm still working on the details, but we might go to
Mexico or Brazil or some such place where 'Richard' would meet with an
accident that wouldn't be too closely investigated. You know, Lost at
Sea or something like that."
"I see," Quentin's voice was sharp with interest. "Then you could
inherit all his property and get around that dreadful pre-nup!"
"But what about Richard here?" Doris wiggled her bottom on my face and
everyone laughed.
"That's what I wanted to talk to all of you about," Moira said, "I'd
really rather not kill him, but I obviously can't have him in the way
while I get control of his property... or raising any objections
afterwards. So what do you think I could do with him... or is it her
now?"
"Well for starters," Purple-hair suggested eagerly, "I have a
psychologist friend who uses those Sensory Deprivation tanks.., you
know, where you're held motionless in warm water, and tapes playing and
everything? And she says after a couple days you get really
suggestible. Maybe we could put this she-male husband of yours in there
for a few weeks, and make tapes where we tell her she's a drag queen or
something."
"Yeah," Her rounded companion chimed in, 'We could even give her a
false name and some fake ID, then maybe take her to a strange city and
drop her off."
"But don't those treatments wear off after awhile?" Moira asked.
"Only as the subject returns to her natural surroundings," The
leatherdyke insisted, "If our little sex toy here was surrounded by
other TVs, in a strange city, called by a different name, she might
just sink into her new life."
"Especially if she looked different," Jack put in, "I know a guy who
does tattooing and he told me about a permanent skin dye that we could
put into the warm water of the sensory-deprivation tank. She'd soak in
it all that time, and when she came out, she'd be a different race!"
"Yeah," Doris said, "And with those pillow lips you gave her, she'd be
really convincing. Even if she ever remembered who she was, she'd never
convince anyone. Especially if we got tapes of her performing at the
Drag Club!"
"Or maybe a couple of those wild porno tapes. You know, the ones that
show a bunch of busty and well-hung TVs getting it on with each other?
I know no amount of treatment will ever make this thing look hung, but
she'd make a good Bottom."
"Oooo! In some of the B&D things? Wouldn't that be a hoot, seeing this
feminized ex-husband of mine getting tied up, spanked and abused in the
movies?"
"And mincing around in frilly aprons and sexy nylons, garterbelts and
heels while she services doms? Once we had enough films of him doing
all that, he wouldn't dare admit to his true identity."
"Hey, if you're really interested in something kinky," Julie spoke up,
"I have a girlfriend out in Arizona who owns a sort of Ranch, where she
keeps Pony Girls. And it's really wild, how she shaves them and styles
their hair to look like Manes, and bonds their hands and feet in latex
hooves... some of them even have this surgical procedure that keeps their
heads raised and their mouths open. I know it sounds weird, but they're
really terribly sexy-looking that way."
"Hmmm," Moira sounded thoughtful. "I'm getting mental pictures of my
little Richard here as Black Beauty, horsing around all big-tittied and
bare-assed for the customers."
"If I may say?" Quentin said, "I think I have the Ultimate Solutulon.
That is, if you want something really kinky, totally humiliating, and
quite permanent for your husband."
"Well?"
"I have some friends who are quite wealthy and live in the Middle East.
They're also very very Gay. Since that's sort of frowned on over there,
they keep very private harems of men who look.., well, they run the
whole gamut, from muscle-bound hunks to simpering, tithed shemales--like
Richard here. And I know they'd like a carmel-colored mentally
disoriented ex-male American for a wife. The Harems have Senior 'wives'
who would be put in charge of her at first, teaching her how to dance,
move about and pleasure the sheiks. And I'm afraid some of these Arabs
still have a grudge against Americans, so Richard would be in for an
awfully hard time of it if they ever found out his true identity."
"But mightn't he try to get free?"
"Not much chance of that," Quentin giggled, "At the first sign of
trouble, a disobedient 'wife' is chained up and sold to the Slave
Dealers, where she might end up in the jungle or the far east, a caged
sex object. With that as a threat, most of the 'girls' try very hard
indeed to please just everyone they meet. And some of the things they
put them through..."
"Oh," The Leatherdyke interrupted, "But my friends in the kinky movie
trade can match anything they can do."
"Listen." Julie said, "When I tell you some of the tricks I've seen the
Pony Girls perform...."
And as I lay there under my old girlfriend's butt. big-breasted, bound,
hairless and feminine, I listened to my wife and her friends and lovers
discuss my fate long into the night.....
thEnd!
India
- 10.01.2022
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