"Are you watching, Zoe?"
Gideon's voice was clear, but I was confused by the question. How could I not be watching?
He hefted the flogger in his hand.
Claire's blue eyes turned to me. There was a softness in them I'd never seen before.
+
Roll it back.
I won't say I had been friendless since arriving in Melbourne. Far from it - the people I'd met there were open and friendly, much more so than back home. I'd met some very agreeable people, had made some friends. I'd enjoyed myself here - no complaints. But...
OK, the women I'd met were nice and we had some solid girl times. Some of the boys got me thinking happy thoughts, too, but for one reason or another, I'd wound up spending Saturday nights home alone with my imagination.
Bad imagination!
No, actually, my imagination was pretty darned good. That was in point of fact the problem.
Ever since I'd hit puberty, my imagination had taken me in directions unmentioned, much less explored, in those magazines and books Mummy Dearest had deemed suitable for her offspring. Not to put too fine a point on it, while accepting the concept of 'love', teenage Zoe had found the entire 'romance' thing a lethal bore. I'd tried to fit in when my school friends had traded teen magazines, talked about chick-flicks and gossiped about how delicious some of our classmates were. I tried, I really did, but the whole happily-ever-after concept just didn't get my motor running.
Ever since I was like 12 or 13 years old, I knew I wanted wanting something else entirely. Exactly what that was, I wasn't sure and had no way of finding out, but the kids-car-and-mortgage thing just never appealed.
So it didn't happen.
Darned near nothing happened - not in school, nor in university. I knew I was pretty enough and I certainly had a figure which drew sidelong glances from the boys. I could dance, I could make small talk - I'd even studied sports cars one time in hopes of attracting boys. All that had done was to lock me into listening to boys talk endlessly about compression ratios and tread patterns, bleck.
I wanted something out of the ordinary - some sparkle, some spice.
Cayenne, by choice.
Once I was old enough to get my own phone, my own internet access, the way forward had become clearer. I'd done my research - and found it as entrancing as it was exciting.
And getting a place of my own, away from protective parents and snoopy siblings, had been better still. I'd made furtive forays into sex stores, experimented, bought batteries by the box. I had the lingerie, knew the knots, dreamed the dreams, but I'd never found what I knew I needed - a guide, someone to lead me through the maze, somebody forceful and commanding, but at the same time kind, patient and open.
So even then, still nothing.
Until I'd arrived to Oz, maybe eight months ago.
Coming here had been a new start for me. I was free to go my own way. I didn't need to worry about one of my mother's friends seeing me come out of a toy store. My sisters couldn't drop by without warning.
I didn't have to conform to anybody's expectations but my own.
It had taken a while to settle in, but I'd finally worked up the courage to make my first real plunge into a world I still wasn't entirely sure existed.
I'd woven a tortoiseshell-pattern shibari harness over my body, put on a filmy outfit, locked the door behind me and, vibrator in place, taken the tram along Collins Avenue. The plan was for me to have to walk the 15 or so blocks to get home without having a public orgasm.
I might have made it.
Really.
To make things even more challenging, though, to stretch it out in defiance of the seething, non-stop almost-orgasm fed by the thing's constant purring, I stopped for a coffee part-way home. There, quivering over my cappuccino, I - and the silver triskelion necklace I'd been wearing - had been noticed by Claire and Gideon.
Gideon had taken me home. No, not quite. I'd had to run two blocks in high heels, chasing after him to catch up after initially refusing his invitation.
It was the best decision I've ever made.
Gideon had been precisely what I had always known that I needed. Once in his flat, caring, gentle and utterly masculine, he'd had me undress for him, display my shibari creation for him, pose for him.
He'd used my phone to take dozens, maybe hundreds of photos of me. He had - with my dazed but full consent - directed me through what seemed to be hours of slow, tormenting masturbation. I'd begged for permission to cum and he'd repeatedly refused. When he at last gave me his consent, my orgasm nearly blew my head off.
I'd sobbed with happiness at that, but my main joy was at having found Gideon, the perfect man for me.
For the day had been for his pleasure and that made all the difference to me. It was not indulgence which had led him to steer me through the experience, nor yet a simple courtesy to a new friend. Oh yes, Gideon had within hours helped me find more excitement, more satisfaction than I'd ever experienced in my life, but I knew that my nudity, so displayed, was for his gratification. And my fingers stroking my sex, fingers keeping me shaking and moaning for an hour, just this side of orgasm - that was for his amusement, too. And when, an eternity later, he finally permitted - directed - my release, that too had been to please him.
And I was fine with all of that. It was what I'd been wanting my whole life.
As good as it had been, he'd then frustrated me beyond belief by refusing to take my virginity - for virgin I still was, never having found a boy meeting my standards - until I'd agree to share the photos and videos on my camera.
After much thought, I'd met with Claire and passed her the photos. Soon after, I'd been invited to dinner at Gideon's flat. I hadn't been surprised when I arrived to find the pair dressed in three ounces of not much. It was what I had expected and under my dress I'd been wearing a costume consisting in its entirety of maybe a shot-glass full of fine gold chains.
And my triskelion necklace.
I'd been delighted to display myself to them in those chains, wearing that symbol.
Gideon and Claire had been charming and gracious hosts, but all three of us knew precisely how the evening was to end, and it wasn't to be a friendly handshake at the door. As if to emphasize that, before dinner, over drinks and small talk, they'd presented me with a framed photograph of myself, taken at my first meeting with Gideon.
Naked, I was kneeling on the ottoman in his flat, my knees apart and my hands behind my neck to more properly emphasize my breasts. One of my discarded high heels was visible on the floor by the ottoman. The shibari cords had just been removed, but the spiderweb of impressions they'd left in my flesh were still clear. My eyes were open, bright, my face bearing a look of eager, searching hunger which captured my mood perfectly.
Unlike so much online porn, the photo was anything but sleazy or greasy. Utterly explicit, it was still art in every sense of the word. Staring at it on my lap, I felt my heart almost push out of my chest. I felt elevated, empowered by the memories it brought. It was a tender, wonderful, thoughtful gift.
It now hung in Gideon's flat, displayed with perhaps a dozen others.
Like the one of me, they were all nudes, all crackling with the same open, edgy eroticism. All had been presented with amazing, tasteful artistry - Gideon's artistry.
Claire herself was the subject of another one.
Dressed only in an elegant underbust corset, pumps and her ever-present gold necklace, she was relaxing in a low chair, her long legs pointed towards the viewer. Her dark hair was loose over her shoulders, long enough to flow around - and emphasize - her perfect breasts.
I was so jealous of those breasts.
Her nudity notwithstanding, it was a very casual, innocent pose, yet Claire seemed utterly confident, completely at one with herself and the sexuality she exuded.
What raised the photo from admirable to superlative however was something easily overlooked, a flat chain wrapping twice around one ankle before leading off-screen. It was far from obvious; indeed, it was almost hidden by Claire's other ankle and its shadow. Nor was it clear, especially given her serene expression, whether the chain was an actual fetter or just a highlight, a prop.
It offered the viewer, as most good art does, an choice of interpretations.
Given the highly-charged nature of the evening and of my first time with Gideon, it would be silly to say that I'd been surprised to discover after dinner that his flat contained a dungeon.
Anything but dark and grungy, the room was large, well-lit, modern in appearance and immaculately clean. Were it not for the suspension points in the high ceiling and the bondage furniture scattered about here and there, it might have easily been taken for a high-end art gallery.
There were comfortable chairs, a deep carpet, and a four-poster bed in one corner, complete with a luxurious, embroidered bedspread.
Gideon had taken my virginity on that bed.
Claire, a warm smile on her face, had held my hand while he did so.
+
From where I stood, I watched Gideon patiently, devotedly, lovingly torment the woman in front of him.
This could not, I thought to myself, be the same Claire - the regal Claire, the Claire of infinite poise, the Claire of utter confidence and sublime feminine strength.
This Claire was squirming in leather bonds, shuddering, moaning her distress - and her desire.
I looked away, saw my reflection in the mirrored wall opposite. I mentally compared that to the image I had presented on my way here just hours before.
Then I had been sparky, bold, self-assured, on top of my game - as free and independent as any person on the planet.
In my purse had been a list of instructions from Gideon, preparations I was to make for the evening, for him. I'd been thrilled to get it and warmed that he'd gone to the trouble of planning ahead for me, answering questions I hadn't known enough to ask.
My honey-coloured hair was in my usual raggedy bob, but I'd taken the time and effort to make it look as sophisticated as it had been the hour I'd walked out of my stylist's shop. My nails were done in the bright scarlet he'd specified. The note had said that my makeup was to be bold but not skanky; I'd put a lot of work into it. I'd gone perfume shopping, too, and there were dabs of liquid lust almost everywhere.
As directed, I was wearing a simple sundress - 'short' had also been specified - with bra and knickers left behind in my flat. I was wearing heels, too - not my pre-Gideon norm, but I was getting used to them. I liked how they lengthened my legs and made my hips swing as I walked.
A trio of boys on the tram had openly gazed at me in admiration. With confidence newly acquired from Claire, I'd been quietly delighted by their attention and, smiling gently, had very casually played to their interest. I realized that part of their approval might be that they could see my otherwise-bare breasts through the thin fabric of my dress, silhouetted by the sun behind me in the tram window. Two months ago, I would have been humiliated. Now, I pulled my shoulders back slightly to emphasize my bust, stretching the thin fabric more tightly over my nipples. The game was as old as Lilith; as I got off the tram, I remember hoping that they'd enjoyed themselves as much as I had.
Were they here in this room, seeing me as I was now, I knew I would still be the focus of their attention, but for a very different reason.
+
It was just a few minutes' walk to Gideon's flat from the tram stop. I tried to keep my steps confident, but there was indeed a small tremor within me. Today would, I hoped, be another big step forward for me. I knew that just reading Histoire d'O and spending hours drooling in on-line catalogues hadn't given me a full understanding, any more than reading DSM-5 would have made me a psychiatrist.
When Claire opened the door to Gideon's flat, the two were wearing light bathrobes. Despite the warm greeting, hugs, welcoming kisses, it was a bit of a letdown. I don't think I'd been expecting handcuffs and riding crops so soon, but, seriously - white cotton?
Gideon passed me a drink. I won't describe the discussion that followed; you've no doubt seen them or read about them. Short enough by the clock, it seemed to me to be interminable. Yes, Claire and Gideon were being the responsible adults in the room and, intellectually, a discussion about limits and safe-words was necessary. Emotionally was something else. Didn't they already know that I trusted them?
I was more than impatient; I was physically aching for what I thought was about to happen. Sitting on the sofa, my eyes kept straying to the closed door of the dungeon. My heart was racing.
Beyond that door lay the fulfilment of years of dreams.
Eventually, Gideon looked at Claire, nodded. She smiled and he'd looked back to me.
"Finish your drink, Zoe," he'd said. His words, while gentle, were not a request. They were spoken in a voice accustomed to obedience and my heart soared at its commanding tone.
Again he spoke. "Take off your dress."
I hurried to obey. Looking around, I put the folded fabric on a chair beside me and stood with my arms at my sides. Gideon examined me from his seat, eyes unhurriedly running over my body.
"Turn around. Slowly."
I could feel both his eyes and Claire's on me as I did.
He stood up, came close. His hand brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, stroked my cheek before slipping lightly down my neck, over my shoulder. It came to rest beneath one of my breasts. Cupping it, he squeezed softly. I felt a tingle all the way down to my toes.
"Undress me," he said.
I hadn't, to be honest, expected that. Not that it would be a hard task and not that I minded. A soft pull on his tied belt allowed it to fall loose. I stepped behind him as he let the robe slide down his arms. Knowing his expectations about neatness, I caught it and folded it as I turned to place it on the table behind me.
I'm not sure what I expected to see the two of them wearing when I turned back.
Claire? Well, Claire was Claire - she'd simply shed her robe and, completely self-assured, stood dressed only in glory and her heels. Her usual bar-bell nipple piercings had been replaced with small loops, but the heavy gold necklace she always wore was around her neck. From the top of her long, straight black hair all the way down to her perfectly-enameled toenails, she was everything any woman could hope to be. I felt subdued just being in her presence, what a tabby cat must feel being near an ocelot or panther.
Gideon on the other hand, had caught me off-guard. I wouldn't have been surprised by leather, a vest, some sort of harness to set off his toned body, maybe something black to match his salt-and-pepper hair and beard.
Instead, his garb consisted of not much more than a yard of thin silk rope, rather slimmer than a cigarette.
Bright-red, it went around his body like a belt, low over his slim hips. Tied at the small of his back, a simple loop dropped from a knot below his navel to nestle under his cock and balls.
The bright cord was in solid contrast to his tanned skin and provided a minimalistic but stunning emphasis on his masculinity. Even now, not erect, my eyes were automatically drawn along the bold red lines to his substantial sex. I felt my breath catch, a knot form in my loins.
I felt Claire's warm hand slip into mine.
"Ready?" she asked.
+
I shuddered as the constant vibrations pushed my lust still higher. I shifted, trying to get away from the maddening pulsations, but even that small movement set the vibrators on my nipples swinging again. I bit on the ball gag, pulled futilely against my cuffs.
+
Claire led us into the dungeon, she and I arm-in-arm in our heels and necklaces, Gideon following barefooted. The smell of leather filled my nose as she opened the doors of a tall cabinet; my jaw, despite all my imaginings, fell a bit.
Straps and harnesses of every sort hung on hooks inside. Shelves held a cornucopia of collars, masks, shackles and leashes. A stack of drawers ran down the middle. An entire shallow tray was filled with clothes pins. Hanging from rows of pegs on the inside of the doors was suspended an assortment of floggers, whips, paddles and crops.
Staring at them, I wondered what the pair would use on me first; I felt my nipples tighten in happy expectancy.
My eyes must have been very wide, for Claire chuckled lightly. Gideon joined her when he too saw my expression.
His hand - so firm, so tender - came to my face. His finger traced along my jawline.
"Still with us, Zoe?" he asked kindly.
"Yes," I said, looking from one to the other. I smiled brightly. "Oh, yes!"
He leaned in towards me, took me my head in his hands and brought his lips to mine for a soft, loving kiss. It felt amazing. It felt like praise. It felt like exultation. It felt like a kindly warning, like a happy welcome. It felt like compassion and promise. It felt like lust and hope holding hands with each other. It felt like everything I had ever wanted and I felt its fire flow through my entire body.
I shivered despite the warmth of the room.
Gideon broke the kiss. As one hand opened a deep, unlabeled drawer, his other tugged gently at my hand in invitation. When I looked, the drawer was filled with leather cuffs in a variety of colours and styles.
"I think for you," he said, "with your hair, either black or brown."
I looked, for some reason, at Claire. Seeing her nod her approval, I felt more reassured.
"Um, brown, I think," I said. I pointed at one, picked it up. Its lining was lighter in colour and very soft; the buckle and ring were of darkest steel. Lifting it to my nose, it smelt of leather and beeswax.
"This one, please? If that's OK?"
"You have good taste," Claire murmured.
Gideon's long fingers took it from my hand, wrapped it around my right wrist, fastened it. His grey eyes looked at mine as he twisted it gently on my wrist to judge its fit.
"How's that feel?" he asked.
I took it in my other hand. It was tight, but perfectly comfortable. It was in fact not only comfortable, but for some reason also comforting. I felt the glow within me blaze a little higher.
"It feels good!"
I smiled at him. Why had I been so nervous?
I again lifted it to my nose and sniffed. I felt my nipples harden yet a little bit more, a sudden heaviness in my sex.
I was so ready for this and, at the same time, so completely unprepared. Whatever was to happen, I knew I could trust the two of them - whatever they had to sell, I wanted to buy.
Gideon kissed me again, brought my bare body against his. I threw my arms around his waist, pulled him into a deep hug.
He hugged back, his hands sweeping down my bare back, clasping my bum. We stood there for a few seconds before he pulled slightly away. He gave me a light slap on my bottom.
"Don't distract me, Zoe," he grinned, reaching back into the drawer.
A minute later, there were cuffs on both my wrists, both my ankles. Oddly, their mere presence carried a weight heavier than the cuffs themselves. I stepped to one side to examine myself in the mirrored wall.
My heart jumped at the sight. The brown leather looked perfect against my skin and hair. I turned back and forth for a better look. I looked simply stellar. At that moment, I would rather have been wearing nothing but these in Gideon's dungeon than a Louis Vuitton gown at the Governor-General's ball.
In the mirrors across the room, I could see most of the dungeon - bondage equipment, suspension gear and a wooden five-pointed star, fully seven feet high, leaning against the wall.
With me tied to it.
Claire and Gideon had fastened me to that star together, their hands quick and sure but gentle, almost tender. This was more than a scene - it was my first, my introduction.
I examined my reflection. I liked what I saw. My breasts were perky, my tummy flat, my waxed sex smooth. I knew I looked hot. I thought I looked confident.
My arms were stretched up, shackled to the top point of the star. Below me, again fettered in place, my feet, still in heels, were spread wide apart.
I tugged on my wrists - I might as well have been tied to the Seafarer Bridge.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I smiled in satisfaction, happy at the world unfolding as I had long dreamed it would.
Gideon, his arms crossed casually, watched as Claire leaned in and kissed me, her lips on mine like butterflies on flowers. I sighed with pleasure as her hands swept over my bareness. She bent forward, hefted my boobs in her palms, licked each of my nipples lightly. They sprang to full attention, hungry for more.
Gideon chuckled softly. He stepped forward, brushed my jaw lovingly with the back of his fingers. I noticed he was half-hard now, his balls pulled higher by the rope around his sac.
"Still good?" he asked with genuine care.
"Oh yes!" I smiled.
He picked up a small box from a table and opened it for Claire.
Reaching into it, her hand emerged with a black-chrome nipple clamp, its jaws rubber-coated. Under it was fastened a rounded cylinder the size of a large man's thumb - a cordless vibrator.
Those I was familiar with - meaning that I'd at least seen pictures of them.
As Claire removed it from the box however, I saw something else. Below the vibrator, at the other end from the clamp, hung a coil spring about the same length and diameter as a pencil. At the end of the spring was a dark ball the size of a strawberry. The spring was already partially stretched by its weight. It wobbled slightly in her hand.
I realized that not only would I be constantly stimulated by the vibrators themselves, but my every move would set the weights swinging and bobbing...
A slight smile on her face, Claire adjusted the clamp, firmly tightening its jaws around my right nipple - not tight enough to hurt but quite enough to keep it in place, no matter what my gyrations. She repeated it for my left nipple then, as she bent in for another quick kiss, she reached for the vibrators, found the switches. I trembled as I felt their hum begin.
Smiling wickedly then, Claire gave each weight a slight slap.
My breath caught as they began to dip and sway and twist below my boobs, each motion projected through the jaws of the softly purring vibes, pulling my nips back and forth with every movement.
Laughing lightly at the expression on my face, Claire stepped back to stand by Gideon. His hand ran down her side, caressed her bum.
He in his turn took a thin leather harness from the box and fastened it about my waist. Kneeling in front of me, he slid a powerful wand vibrator through a loop on the harness, leaving the wand's bulbous head resting between my outspread and shackled legs.
Gideon leaned in towards me. A long finger traced its way along my lower lips, now hidden behind the wand. It emerged with its tip glistening with moisture.
"You're going to be a lot of fun, Zoe," he smiled.
I gulped as the machine began to buzz. Its head was however barely touching my ladybits. This, I thought, would be more of a tease, something I could take without going insane.
It turned out that Gideon had different ideas. His eyes never leaving mine, his fingers caught a strap dangling from the harness, one I hadn't noticed, elasticized with a hook on its end. Passing it between my legs, it took but a second to fasten the hook to the belt behind me and pull it taut. As the strap tightened, the wand shifted, the elastic pulling its head firmly against my mound and labia.
I wiggled, sensing what was to come. Bound to the massive star as I was, I wouldn't be able to move very much. No matter, even if I could have, the humming monster would be right there, nestled into my most private, sensitive flesh and buzzing away, slowly driving me mad.
I realized that I was entering an entirely different kind of arena and, given my present level of arousal, the evening's fireworks wouldn't be delayed for long.
"Don't go anywhere, Zoe," he joked. He turned and stepped back to the cabinet.
Claire leaned in for a final kiss. Stepping back, she ran her eyes over me, her approval clear.
Then her eyebrows lifted.
"Gideon," she called. "We've forgotten something."
Thirty seconds later, my jaws were stretched around a ball gag. I'd seen pictures, but had never worn one. I could breath well enough, but found its constant presence between my lips perturbing, denying me as it did one small remaining opportunity to defy or resist. I realized that that was precisely what it was intended for.
I twisted as waves of sensation from the vibrators flowed through my pussy and boobs, whimpered as my rigid nipples were pulled and teased by the weights swaying beneath them. I began to panted lightly as a holy heat rose within me. I was turned on, yes, but also a little frightened. I was sprinting down the path to orgasm faster than ever before. That was on one hand a good thing, a very good thing. On the other hand, it left me wondering about what would follow.
Gideon and Claire were sitting in chairs, holding hands and watching me. I was expecting an audience, but remained curious about what...
Curiosity got mugged and left for dead as an orgasm screamed in with almost no warning. I wrenched against my cuffs, clenched my fists. My elated cries were muffled by the gag. My body shook and I moaned as the shaking made spring-loaded vibrators dance and flail on rock-hard nipples, boosting the sensation, pushing me further.
Which made me shake still more.
It was delightful.
+
Much as I liked her, much as I admired her, I found Claire intimidating. With her beauty, poise and confidence, she could have, at any time since I'd drifted into their relationship, crushed me with a word, a mere glance. Instead, she had welcomed me, almost as a new sister.
Opening my eyes two minutes later, I was stunned to see that, while I had been gasping in the throes of my orgasm, Claire had herself donned cuffs, these ones deep red.
From the very first, while I craved Gideon's compelling masculinity, I'd always thought that she was the stronger of the two. I'd assumed that both she and Gideon would be doms for my first submission today.
Indeed, when I'd received Gideon's invitation, part of the thrill was my expectation of her hands on me, too. My being strapped to the star had, I thought, been a beginning, a warm-up. They would leave me there for a bit, then move me for something else.
Looking around the dungeon, there were a lot of options.
But now, to my astonishment, it was Claire, not me, that Gideon was chaining to a bondage bench not three paces in front of me.
Four solid legs supported a waist-high bench padded in red leather - the precise colour, I realized, of the cuffs Claire now wore around her slender wrists and ankles. The bench had padded ledges on which she now knelt; slightly higher rests supported her forearms. It took Gideon but seconds to fasten her cuffs to the bench and only a few more to buckle two leather straps around her waist to keep her torso from moving.
It was a stirring sight - white body trussed to red leather; long, lustrous black hair flowing over both.
Finished, he bent down, kissed her lips lovingly; I was amazed to see the brilliance of her smile in reply.
As I watched, Gideon began to walk around her, trailing his hand as he moved, fingers drifting over perfect skin, fondling firm buttocks, caressing graceful calves. Pausing behind her, he let his fingers linger over her sex. Her eyes closed with pleasure, her smile growing as his knowing touch began to feed her appetite.
A minute later, he selected another ball gag, this one red with a black strap. Reflected in the mirror, I could see happiness and love in her eyes as she nodded. He crouched beside her, stroking.
"Zoe," he said softly to me.
"Isn't she beautiful, Zoe?" he asked, almost in a whisper.
"Very," I mumbled through my gag.
Claire had heard me. She lifted her head to look at me in the mirror, but I couldn't fathom her expression.
Gideon bent, kissed her gently on the forehead before reaching around to fit the ball in her mouth.
He checked the fit, eased her hair from out under the strap. His hand stroked her high cheekbones.
I closed my own eyes as my own internal Mount St Helens started rumbling again.
Don't get me wrong. I approve of vibrators - like them a great deal, truth be told - but I wasn't sure how long I could last under this relentless, unceasing stimulation of my special bits.
I was - just for a moment - amused by the sudden realization that that was one thing I was here to learn.
That thought still in my mind, I came a second time. This one I'd seen building, but it was still astonishing in its intensity, a sudden explosion of ecstasy. My cries were again muted by the ball gag. My knees sagged and I hung from my wrists as it continued, endless and roaring in its power.
When I could open my eyes again, Gideon was kneeling behind Claire, his head buried between flawless cheeks. Her head came up off the headrest, a blissful look on her face. Gideon's hands spread her cheeks further, his head moving up and down between them. Claire's head tilted back, her eyes closed, mouth open. She was breathing very quickly in her joy.
Her head fell back to the rest when Gideon pulled away, reached for a vibrating egg and a small bottle of lube. I saw her shiver as he eased the thing into her cleft, jump slightly as he thumbed the switch on the control box down before placing it on the floor between her outspread legs.
He again crouched beside her head. I couldn't hear the low words, but she nodded. Again, he kissed her, softly, his lips lingering on hers. In the mirrors, I could see her pleasure, her happiness.
I tried to push down my jealousy. My breath was ragged as my own vibrators whirred and buzzed.
I was surprised when, selecting a flogger from the cabinet, Gideon brought it to me for my inspection. Its handle was covered with braided leather; its intermingled red and black falls a good two feet long.
He trailed them lightly down one of my stretched thighs. I trembled at the sensation. Gideon turned and stepped back, behind Claire.
"Keep watching, Zoe." Gideon was talking to me, but I could see that his eyes were on Claire.
Claire's blue eyes turned to me - soft, loving, anticipatory eyes. A small smile came to her lips. I tried to smile back.
Gideon bent down, adjusted the control for the egg. Her eyes suddenly opened very wide.
I looked at her perfect bum, her sleek thighs with their flawless skin. The bench kept her legs spread wide and I could see the lips of her sex between them.
Standing, Gideon hefted the flogger in his hand.
He was fully hard now, his balls engorged, tight against his body. His manhood swayed within its leash of red rope as he swung the flogger, gently this first time. The falls dragged across Claire's bottom. Her eyes blinked, but she continued to look at me in the mirror.
What was she thinking?
I could hear Claire hiss as the flogger again struck her, harder this time. There was a new pinkness to her soft skin.
"Again," Gideon said, almost to himself. Her intake of breath at his next blow was sharper, her bum redder.
And again, but with a longer delay between blows.
I watched, spellbound. Suddenly I could smell her - perfume and pussy and perspiration.
Shaking, I tried to straighten my legs, hold more weight on my feet. I wobbled a bit on the high heels and the movement sent the weights on my boobs bouncing up and down as they swung, twitching and shaking my nipples.
Another orgasm rolled over me. I was beyond trying to shout through the ball gag; it was all I could do to breathe as my world turned upside down.
My pussy was almost in convulsions, my tormented nipples were beating time with my galloping heartbeat, my clit felt like it was glowing. The vibrators ignored their protests, continued to tease and, seconds later, drove me to cum yet again - fiery this time, burning, aggressive.
I was too tired to appreciate it, sagged again to hang from my wrists as the waves of sensations swept me along with them.
I opened my eyes eventually. Claire's bum was a solid pink under Gideon's lash. When he paused, took a breath, I could see her honey oozing from between her labia.
I watched as he slid his palm, ever so gently, over her tender bottom in a soothing gesture.
He brought the flogger up, began again.
There were no pauses now; the flogger whirled like a live thing in the man's expert hand, striking the girl's bottom from one side, then the other, then from the bottom...
Claire twisted under the straps, her arms and legs straining against the cuffs. I could see her soft skin ripple at each impact of the heavy, multi-coloured falls. Her breath was coming in a shrill whistle now. She was no longer looking at me in the mirror. Her eyes, when she lifted her head from its rest, were full of tears. I could see her slim waist heaving with sobs. Her sweet cheeks were almost as red as her cuffs.
"Enough," Gideon said. With those words, he stopped, knelt in front of her. Leaning forward, he tenderly lifted her head onto his shoulder.
I could see him whispering in her ear, cuddling her head, gentle and supportive. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but in a few minutes, she turned her head towards him. He bent down to kiss her cheek and she moved her head to meet his lips.
It was perhaps the most tender, loving scene I have ever witnessed.
I couldn't watch. My eyes crossed as the relentless machines drove my exhausted body into a sixth orgasm. It was shorter, perhaps, but stronger still, demanding, almost punishing in its intensity. There were tears on my own cheeks now and I heard myself sobbing behind the gag.
When it had faded somewhat and I could focus again, the flogger had been hung up, but Claire was still shackled to the bench, her bottom almost glowing. Gideon was kneeling by her head, stroking her head and hair in a very sweet fashion. He was speaking to her, his words too soft for me to hear. Wordlessly, she again nodded in apparent agreement.
Gideon stepped between us and began, very gently, to rub some sort of salve or ointment on her flaming cheeks. I could hear her sigh of relief from where I stood.
Finished, he sat beside her, tenderly stroking her head for a long time.
That image grew fuzzy. I hadn't the energy to be surprised when the vibrators pushed me, lifted me, carried me into a state where I could no longer count orgasms. They now flowed over me like waves streaming up onto a beach, one after another, continuous. I drifted in and out with them. There were no longer thoughts in my world, only sensations.
I was but dimly aware of Gideon having left Claire where she was. I watched his engorged member wave in front of him as he walked towards me.
He lifted my head, kissed my cheek. His hands swift and certain, he removed first the wand, then the nipple vibes. He put them on a nearby table, carefully, as was his habit in almost everything.
I hung there, panting, nearly wrecked. The dungeon of course had no clock and I had no idea how long I had been struggling on the star. It had seemed an eternity, a timeless period of transition from a sparky, confident Zoe One to a quivering, crying - and genuinely delighted, incredibly content - Zoe Two.
Gideon's voice was low and calming as he removed my ball gag. "It's time to come back now, Zoe."
Unable to speak, I nodded, post-orgasm ripples still flashing through my body. I again sagged; my legs still unable to bear my weight.
He smiled at the sight, brushed my cheek with a kind hand.
"How are you doing?"
"Good," I cried softly, tears running down my cheeks, my chest heaving.
From behind him, Claire moaned, shifted on the bench. Over his shoulder, I could see her pussy twitch, glistening with her dew.
"Learning anything?" he asked.
"Oh, god," I whispered, panting, "this was amazing."
I started to realize what had been happening. Nobody could have held still for that; nobody could have learned this lesson without being secured in place.
Gideon leaned in, his lips crushing mine. His tongue stabbed between my lips. I met him, desperate, still desiring despite everything. His hand clasped one of my breasts, lifted, squeezed and I felt another mini-cum ricochet through me. I pulled my head back, panting.
"You have no idea," I whispered.
His smile grew, his hand switched to my other breast. I felt his other hand slide between my legs, slide softly over my wetness. I joined Claire in her moans.
"Gideon," I whimpered. "Oh, god, Gideon." Another mini-cum hit me, and I no longer had the energy to even whimper.
His hands began sweeping my body, not in arousal now, but in comfort. I'd been pushed far beyond my physical and emotional limits and felt as drained as if I'd just lived through a typhoon or an earthquake. I closed my eyes, dizzy, faint with the enormity of the experience.
I felt his shoulder by my thighs as he bent down to unclip my ankles. I tried to stand, collapsed on him as he unfastened my wrists.
He drew me into a strong, supportive embrace. One hand clutched my waist; the other my bottom. I giggled a little at feeling his hard length between us.
I realized that, whatever else, I felt as fulfilled as I had ever been. It was this I had been born for, to be brought to my own deepest satisfaction by being the agent of another's.
His arms released me. Wobbly, I had to kick off my heels to stay upright as he led me towards Claire, now writhing silently with the egg's stimulation, her eyes tightly shut. We stood by a low chair a couple of steps in front of her.
"Did you watch, Zoe?" he asked.
I nodded. I was full of sympathy for Claire.
And jealousy. Despite what I had just been through, despite everything she had just been through, I still envious of the tall beauty's predicament.
Gideon put his hand under my chin, turned my face towards his.
"Zoe," he said softly. "The first time you were in this flat, I told you that I wanted to possess you, that I wanted you bucking and crying under me in my bed. I told you that I wanted you kneeling in front of me. Do you remember that, Zoe?"
I found myself drifting up into those piercing grey eyes. "I remember it very well," I said softly.
"And...? What did you feel when I said that?"
"I was delighted," I said. "I wanted all those things." I paused, then, "I still do, Gideon."
"Then kneel," he said.
He lowered himself into the chair, spread his legs. His cock thrust up from between strong thighs still overlaid with red silk cord.
Claire groaned, deeply this time. As I looked, she opened her eyes, stared at us. I could see perspiration on her back and face. Her whole body suddenly rippled as the egg within her continued its unrelenting stimulation.
Gideon's hand suddenly clasped my leg.
"Zoe," he said, my name a commanding reminder.
I dropped to my knees in front of him, took a last quick look at the squirming woman beside us.
I had seen Gideon erect before. Not long ago, he had taken my virginity in this very room. I had pleased him orally since then, several times.
I had never seen him so hard, so in need of release.
Holding his shaft in my hand, stroking his crown with a soft thumb, I looked up at him and smiled. He returned the smile, his hand running through my hair.
I bent over him, began to lick his head, lightly at first, the way Claire had taught me he liked. His warm length surged and jumped in my hand. His hips rolled on the chair, pushing his cock upwards against my lips.
Beside us, Claire gave a series of muffled cries through her gag. From the corner of my eye, I could see her straining against the cuffs.
I bent lower, took his engorged head into my mouth, swirled my tongue around it again and again. Above me, Gideon hissed with pleasure.
I backed off, began pumping his shaft with one hand. When I looked up at him again, his eyes were fixed on Claire's as she fought for her own release.
Watching his face, I began flicking his slit with the tip of my tongue, lightly but faster and faster.
His eyes stayed locked on Claire, his attention solely on her solitary ordeal. I could hear her groan as a rising orgasm fought to overcome the lingering sting in her behind. From the corner of my eye, I could see her hands in their cuffs twisting, pulling against their fastenings. I heard her gasp, over and over, as the vibrator drove her higher, ruthlessly demanding what she was as yet unable to give.
I drew Gideon into my mouth, took him as deeply as I could. My cheeks hollowed with suction as I began to bob up and down over him. I fondled his twins with my hand as my lips slid up and down over his length. He hissed again with enjoyment, but I knew his attention was on Claire. Running my lips up and down his shaft, I could feel his plum sliding over my tongue, its rim hard, shivering.
His balls were pulled up tight against him. I curled my fingers around his sac above them, pulled them gently down from his body.
I looked to one side. Claire's eyes locked onto mine. She bit into the ball gag as another wave of stimulation ran through her pussy.
Gideon's hand continued to stroke my head and hair in soft appreciation, but he had eyes only for Claire in at her bonds. Whenever I looked her way, on the other hand, she was watching me, what I was doing for the man she loved.
After a long time, Claire finally roared, deep and throaty, even through her gag. Her orgasm surged through her, her body straining at straps and cuffs. She shivered, shook, sagged on the bench for a moment before it started all over again.
It was enough, I suppose. My lips felt Gideon's cock began to quiver and throb. Pulling him deep into my mouth, I began swallowing as he surged and pulsed under my hand and lips, filling my throat with his joy. His own orgasm seemed endless, heroic, matched only by that of the bound figure in front of him.
When I pulled off him, his eyes fell to mine, a sleepy smile on his face.
His head motioned towards Claire. I nodded in agreement, rose.
It took me but a second to seize the egg's cord and pull the purring thing from out of her. I removed the ball gag, dropped it on the carpet, unhooked her cuffs, released the straps holding her torso to the bench.
Entirely used up, too tired to rise, even with my help, she lay on the bench for some minutes before rising shakily to her feet. We knelt, side by side, our arms around each other's waists, looking contemplatively at the sleeping man in front of us.
There was a gentle smile on his face.
"Are you OK?" I whispered, then, uncertain, "I'm so sorry."
I felt her arm give me a squeeze. "Don't be," she replied softly. "It's OK. It's just where we went tonight. Really."
I looked up at her face, half-buried in a mare's-nest of black hair. She smiled again as she slowly regained her composure.
"Well, Zoe," she said fondly. "Such an introduction. How are you, dear?"
"I'm good," I smiled. "Really good. You sure you're OK?"
"I think I'll be sleeping on my front for a few days," she smiled ruefully. Her head turned back towards the figure asleep on the chair.
"He loves you." I said gently. I hugged her tightly. "You do know that, Claire?" I thought for a moment. "I've never seen a person love that much."
She turned to look at me again, a sweet smile on her face. Her one arm pulled me in to her, the other stroked my cheek gently.
"I know," she whispered. "I know. I think I'm very lucky."
"I do, too," I whispered as her lips came lightly down on mine. It felt like a greeting, a welcoming, an acceptance. Her soft lips were love and tomorrow and forever.
In the end, it took both of us to get Gideon into bed, but, holding Claire's hand over his form, I don't think I've ever slept better.
