Chapter 5
"GEORGIE," the magnificently constructed hostess screamed. "Is it really you?"
"Yes it's really me," George said boldly. "I think I have something for you that you want."
"I'll say you do, child," she exclaimed, her eyes glued to his waving cock. "But I've been such a naughty girl, Georgie ... I made believe that candle was you ... I really think I should be punished for such a shameful pretense, don't you?"
"Yes you should, you naughty girl," George snapped, his eyes slitting viciously as he walked slowly to her dressing table, giving both excited women a view of his quivering prick. George was learning quickly, he knew what she wanted, indeed what she needed and he was prepared to dole it out in double doses if the fruits of his labors was to be access to her unbelievable pulchritude.
He picked up a sterling silver hair brush from the table with the initials D.W. in bold relief on its gleaming surface.
"Oh you terrible boy, you're not going to strike me with THAT?" Dotty cried in mock alarm. "My big bun is all sore from the awful whipping you gave me before."
She was sitting on the bed now, her gleaming booted legs held out before her, opening and closing in convulsive motions, her fingers capped with talon-like nails, brilliantly carmine, delicious, scratching at her boiling crotch. Her eyes were like hot hands massaging his waving penis as he approached her, smacking his open palm menacingly with the flat side of the brush.
"No little girl, you've been very bad and I must punish you for it," he snarled as he sat down beside Dotty and threw her roughly across his naked thighs, his cock pressing deep into her soft tummy, taking the opportunity to grasp one of her gigantic, hanging melons for the first time, squeezing and twisting it cruelly. As he raised the hand with the brush high overhead his fingers grasped the great appendage and rolled it hard between his fingers.
"Oh pinch it HARDER ... I LOVE that," she screamed, then she screamed again as the hairbrush struck her reddened rear with a resounding CRACK. He maintained a steady rain of blows on her huge buttocks as he ripped viciously at her pendant melons with his other hand, once again the wonderfully warm feeling of complete domination of another being flowing over him.
He was fascinated by the red initials that appeared on the soft flesh as though he were stamping her with a red stamp. He wished that the brush bore the initials G.H. so that he could brand her as his own. Her whole body was ravaged with delicious pain as the silver initials dug ruthlessly into her tender flesh. She writhed and twisted from the brutal onslaught, beaten and humiliated, but this was what she craved, what she had to have in order to enjoy the dramatic ending to the scene.
In a state of almost semi-consciousness she felt herself being lifted from his thighs as the spanking ceased. She started to lay on her back but he stopped her.
"No you naughty girl, as part of your punishment I want you on top," he snapped as he scrambled into the center of the bed and lay on his back, his head on the pillow. "Now get above me."
"Yes master," she whimpered. "Anything you desire I will do."
She got unsteadily on her haunches, the boots cutting cruelly into her flesh, cutting off the circulation. She had to raise her lacerated rear high to clear his erect cock, supporting herself with her hands deep in the pillow on either side of his head, her magnificent pendant breasts so huge that they dangled scant inches from his face. As she lowered herself upon him, George started to slap her great molescent mounds together, causing them to quiver like balloons in a windstorm, pausing to squeeze and hoist them, marveling at their incredible weight.
"Oh MASTER ... he's too BIG," she wailed as she pressed fruitlessly down on his great knob with all of her weight.
Once again that night Molly saw an opportunity to assist her hostess and she climbed onto the bed and leaned her full weight on the frantic socialite's shoulders. Their combined weight did the trick as his turgid power prober deeper and deeper as the ripe enchantress swiveled her hips wantonly. She screamed with anguished pain as he impaled her on his lance, grasping her buttocks in his farm toughened hands and assisting Molly in her torturous descent.
"I don't BELIEVE it," she screamed as he found that he could go no further. "No one has ever struck bottom with me before ... "OU-U-U it feels so GOOD-D-D!!"
Then in a sensual frenzy, she began to ride him as though she were posting on a horse, he raising up to meet her downward thrusts with precise timing, timing that he had put to good use on Olga, timing that most men never acquire, no matter how experienced they are. Incredibly their culmination was timed perfectly too as both dams burst asunder and merged into one great torrent that seared their loins and fired their senses.