Chapter 8
Seeing Julia for the first time since she'd whipped him so cruelly, gave Peter a start, but he was surprised that she didn't seem to command his attention right off. No, it seemed that her face was trying to fight back some sort of concern or something. It became apparent that she'd had some sort of contact with someone involved in the plans. For the first time since that first night, he again was struck with the notion that he'd seen her before... but he couldn't place her exactly.
She was whispering to the girls who had gathered around him. All he could pick up was something about a plan B, or something like that, and that the doctor would be here in the morning. He noted that Laura's face, which so recently had been flushed during her sexual bout with Yolanda, had visibly gone pale, and she glanced nervously over at him from time to time, filling him with more anticipation.
Something was up, but he had no idea what. Who was the doctor? Probably a code name for a man, perhaps the leader of the whole gang. Surely she couldn't mean a medical doctor, not an M.D. Perhaps they planned to kill him-no, that couldn't be. How could it be such a big deal. Unless the radio had picked up his mother's 'Betty', statement while he was out of it in the cellar... but now, there'd been no mention of it from Laura. Unless she'd been left out of it informationwise. Maybe that's why she was so pale.
But his rampaging mind was soon stopped as Julia stepped over to him, her air much less demanding than before, almost motherly in nature.
"Peter, I want you to stand up and turn around. Let's see how your back looks today."
God, he couldn't believe all this concern-first Laura, and now Julia, his chief tormentor. He turned and showed her his wealed back, and she bit her lips nervously, almost apologetically, at least for her. But she regained her composure and told him calmly: "I'm sorry I had to whip you so hard yesterday, Peter, but you earned it and I just got carried away from my anger. You were coming along so well. Let that be a warning to you never to try such a foolish fucking thing in the future, do you understand?"
He nodded meekly, not sure where all this was leading.
"I don't like having to take such extreme measures, but sometimes they are necessary. I want you to remember this whenever something similar happens in the future. It's all a part of your training, and you'll benefit from it in the long run, you'll see."
The idea of training and everything seemed so strange to him. This was much more than a plain garden-variety kidnapping, he'd realized that for some time. But he merely thought the woman was venting her sadistic streak on him as long as she had him at her disposal. Now, he got a strange feeling that he was being trained for something that would take place after he was released... but at least, he breathed a sigh of relief, the very implication of the idea would mean that they weren't planning to kill him at least. Not that he could be sure of it, but that's the way it all seemed to be happening. Could it be that old Madison had finally come through with the money, that they would be releasing him soon. Maybe it had all been a simple way of the woman getting her sadistic jollies in the bargain with the ransom. Now that they were about to let him go, they felt a bit of guilt about their behavior. He understood enough about the phenomenon by now to realize that the sadist could feel guilt as well as the masochist-particularly when they'd overstepped the careful limits that must be established with this dangerous diversion.
But there was something about Julia's manner that did suggest that this form of degradation would go on in the future. But where? How? Would these ladies take the money and keep him besides? Or would they turn him over to some other underworld group? For the first time, he considered the far-out notion that Madison Le Grande himself may have been behind the whole scheme. Perhaps the old codger had rigged this so he could be spirited away secretly into a life of slavery. But that was too far-fetched an idea, the old paranoia striking deep. It was probably a reaction to the fact that his grandfather had accused the boy himself of possibly engineering such a cover for a more nefarious scheme. Little did he know at that moment, just how dangerously close to the gist of the matter both he and his grandfather had come in their far-ranging observations and conjectures.
But try as he may, young Peter could only come up with more question marks to this new turn of events. After all, who could these people be training him for... his mother? That was ludicrous. She was such a prude she'd probably never heard of the types of things he'd been going through at the expense of his name. To believe in the worst, of his being killed seemed almost a relief. At least it closed out the alternatives. Not that he would really prefer to die. But whatever had been touched off inside him by his sudden recognition of his will to be dominated was closely akin to the same feeling. He felt uncomfortable trying to think now that he'd experienced this phenomenon. Let somebody else do his thinking for him from now on and hope for the best.
So he tried to put all this talk of the doctor, and plan B out of his mind, giving into the commanding presence of the woman overwhelm him. And he was really in for a surprise when she told him: "Just to show you that a good obedient slave can sometimes have rewards given to him as well as punishments, I'm going to let you go to bed with me after dinner. You'd like that wouldn't you dear? I'll even let you come right inside my big pussy."
This was getting out of hand, he thought, but he felt his reason giving way under the baleful stare of the woman just the way it always did. It would be fun to do things to this woman. He'd never done it with such a mature lady, a woman probably about the same age as his mother.
And so, after dinner had been cleared away, he was sent to his bedroom, Anita dragging him by his chain to prepare for the orgy. He still couldn't figure out just what the woman was trying to make up for, but the thought of getting to come again was predominant in his mind. After all this denial, this would be his third fuck today, counting the blowjob from Laura.
Anita winked at him, reminding him that he shouldn't mention the party they'd had this after-noon to Julia as they didn't want to push their luck.
"Oh, don't worry Miss Anita," he assured her, "I want the pussy too bad."
Only a short week ago he'd been carrying on philosophical arguments with his friends, and now he was reduced to talking like a slave.
When Julia entered, wearing the familiar black costume-the black skirt, the black garterbelt and stockings and the high-heeled boots. However, she wore no panties as she was ready for action. The confining sling of black leather that encased her tits made them more exciting to Peter, and also compensated for the tendency for the huge orbs to sag, but they weren't bad for her age.
"All set, Peter?" she asked.
"Yesss mistress," he told her, remembering to put in the proper titles for fear that he wouldn't be allowed to carry out the balling.
He noted that Laura, still wearing the white leather outfit, had come into the small bedroom along with Yolanda. The redhead was dressed differently that he'd ever seen her before. She had on a tightly-laced black leather corset that fit right under her enormous boobs. Jesus, did she have tits. Too bad she was a lesbian, he thought. The corset forced her boobs to jut out straight from her chest giving her the build of a Cadillac. He noted that the corset didn't quite lace up all the way on her big frame-it was probably designed with a smaller woman in mind.
Nevertheless, the way the laces that crisscrossed her back made an interesting pattern across the inch or so of bare back between the two edges of the corset itself. Her skin puffed out and dimpled where the laces bit into her flesh. There was a garter attachment at the bottom of the corset that went down the outsides and insides of her thighs. Attached to them were sheer black net stockings -that curved down, clinging to the silky- smooth legs, until they disappeared into the spike heel boots.
But his attention was quickly averted to Julia, who sat down on the bed and spread her legs, bunching the leather skirt above her hips. She pointed to her prominent pussy and he fell to the floor in front of her, recognizing that oh so familiar odor. He'd been called on to eat her big pussy many times over the week, but this time would be different as he'd get to sink his dick into her later.
The smell of the leather mixed with the strong odor of her crotch. He liked the smell and feel of leather, and hoped they'd let him wear some in the future... whatever that future was to be.
But he forgot all about the leather as he drove into that large gash between her legs, locating her love button, that large finger of flesh that was nearly twice the size of those on the other girls. With a thumb and forefinger, he steadied the quaking flesh that surrounded the pink bud and began to suck it between his tightly-pursed lips.
Julia let out a sigh as he lapped away, making sucking sounds as he ate the pussy. He could hear some moaning and lapping in the background, and he could only guess that the other girls were involved in some kind of sensual scene themselves.
His cock began to swell between his legs, pulsating with every heartbeat as it grew. He loved to eat the big snatch of this woman, and he did the best job he could. He switched his attention to her gaping entryway and stuck his tongue straight in, pumping it in and out of the mushy hole until the woman's vaginal goosh began to flow in great clods of white foam. He swallowed as much of this in as his flapping tongue could manage, still working the tongue in and out.
"Okay, dear," Julia told him in a very matronly fashion. "Now you may fuck me. And as a reward, I'll take this off for now."
She undid the collar and cast it aside. Peter was overwhelmed at her manner, the harsh commanding tones absent from her voice. It was as if he'd done something exceptionally well, and now was being rewarded, but just what he'd done to. earn this he couldn't tell.
There was something about the woman that reminded him of his mother, but in just what way he found it hard to tell. A fleeting bolt went through his head that associated this woman with his mother, but in what way, he couldn't figure out. He had little time to ponder the matter though, so he just figured the association must be due to the woman's age or something. Her actions were so unlike Paula Le Grande's, the very antithesis.
Julia pulled her skirt off and lay down on the bed, her open arms invitingly spread. Peter fol-lowed his hardon like a divining rod and practically jumped atop her. There was something so verboten about screwing a woman his mother's age.
Julia took his ramrod in hand and moved the head across her steaming nest, sending a shock of electricity to both of their bodies. She tugged at the loose layer of skin that sheathed his boner and pulled him to the moist hole of plenty. He sighed as he settled over her, his eyes feasting on her outlined breasts. He settled his weight on one elbow and toyed with the titties with his free hand, manipulating the resilient orxs into a state of pink readiness, taking the right nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolling it until it was pinched into erection.
But before he had a chance to play with the other tittie, the woman tugged at the shaft of his pecker rubbing the sensitive tip against the opening of her pussy. He felt fire leap up his back like ice and he fell forward so that his chest rested on the fleshy mountains of her boobs.
"I want you to fuck your mama, Peter," the woman intoned, taking in an almost silly voice that he'd never heard her use before. "I want you to take that big hard fuckstaff of yours and ball the shit out of me."
He was only too willing to oblige, although the mother reference threw him off a bit. But she had the experience his mother would never have, not in a million years, a great dominating earth-mother dressed up in her Sunday kicky-kinky clothes.
She pulled his penis tip into the hot hellhole and caught it with a twitch of her muscles. Wow-did she ever have control over her vaginal muscles, he thought, punching down with his lean and welted hips to shove his prick home. She made even Anita seem like an amateur.
He sank his cementlike cock into the yawning chasm of fat-coated muscle. This was a pussy a person could feel secure in, Peter mused, noticing the contradictions of her vagina. It was buttery soft on the outside, like mounds of whipped cream, but underneath, the muscles of the wall would tighten and grip at his plunging prick, then unlatch, allowing the butterfat to flow free once more and his cock slide away. She used her pussy better than some people used their hands.
His hips worked in coordination with hers, but even though weapon was more obvious, she used hers more effectively, bringing him painfully close to milking his fetid load, then grasping hold of the tool with the muscles and making him hang there in anticipation, the flood holding behind a new retainer, only to overflow again, then to be stopped at another dam.
Peter was going mad under this when he felt a sharp pain attach his rear. He looked around, his muscles jumping and found that Yolanda had inserted a dildo up his ass, a plastic vibrator of some sort. The pain was unbearable, and it threw him off stride, but Julia clutched him tightly, her pussy taking his prick for a waltz as she waited for him to adjust to the new form of sex.
At first, it didn't seem like sex at all to Peter, but just another cruel trick. He doubted if he could pull out of Julia's hot and nasty pussy without losing his mind completely, but he realized that he was under her strange hypnosis that he would have done anything for her, even pull out. The pain caused by the rude intrusion to his anal canal had pulled his libido down a notch or two. He waited, figuring that the woman would suddently revert to her usual self, calling him a slave and worse, making him pull his cock out without satisfaction.
But nothing happened, and then the searing pain in his rectum subsided, replaced by a pleasant warmth that began to spread through his entire sexual apparatus.
Julia smiled at him when she saw his reaction.
"Your asshole is a very overlooked part of sex, Peter. Listen to your mama and she'll teach you. Especially in men, it's great because of the prostate."
But before he had a chance to ask her what she meant, she clawed at his back and began moving her hips, letting his cock loose from the deathgrip. He began pumping his own hips again to move his even stiffer cockmeat in and out of her slushy pit, while Yolanda moved the dildo, premoistened by Anita's box, in and out of his asshole, browning him roughly. It felt like he was being stuffed, but the pleasant ache only made his nuts throb all the harder. He felt the hot load of buttermilk ready to explode and he bit his lip in anticipation, then let fly with his cookies, the jizz raining all over Julia's convulsing pussy. He thumped and thumped at her, his prick sawing more quickly, until he'd dumped the entire load and collapsed upon the woman heavily.
He headed for dreamland, wondering what he had done to make these people treat him so good.