Chapter 6
It wasn't what we expected, not at all.
We thought we would have a real old-fashioned orgy with everybody running around naked and screwing or sucking anything or anybody they met. But Pietro was full of surprises.
"Hold it," he shouted, when the couples began to grab and paw each other.
We stopped and looked at him. I had my hands around Sofia and was cupping her breasts from be-hind. My prick was out and hard, and it was jammed between her soft thighs from behind. I stopped, but left my hands and cock where they were.
"Boys line up on one side of the room, girls on the other," Pietro commanded.
It was either do it or fight. And we were all too horny to fight.
We lined up on either side of the room and Pietro stood with Marella near the table. Then, they began filling our goblets and passing them around. When everybody had a drink, Pietro raised his goblet and said; "A toast to the good earth," he said. "A toast to good wine and good food and good people. A toast to the most beautiful woman in the world--a toast to Marella."
"Hear, hear!" we all shouted. And we drank the toast.
When we had finished our drinks, Pietro and Marella filled the goblets again and then the big Sicilian stood on the table with his head practically in the rafters. Light from the many kerosene lamps glowed mellow around his dark head.
"Friends," he said in a husky, wine-soaked voice. "I wish to tell you a little story. It is the story of Marella."
We waited, feeling the wine soak into our entrails and raise our sexual ardor. Marella stood beside the table, her head bowed as though she were embarrassed by all the attention. They were a really kooky couple.
"Her father is a count," Pietro said proudly. "He brought her up under the most strict conditions in a castle in southern Sicily. She was taught everything. She can speak nine languages fluently. She knows mathematics and science and literature and history the way professors know them. She has an IQ of 168. She is not only the world's most beautiful woman, she is the most brilliant.
"But her life was sad there in Sicily. Her father, the count, was a fiend, who tortured her mother to death. Every Sicilian boy who came to see Marella was subjected to torture until he died. Marella did not know this until her father, the count, decided to torture Marella the way he had tortured her mother. He told her everything then. But she did not succumb to the old man's torture. She thrived on it. Each time he beat her with a whip, she gained in strength. And she gained in other areas. She became, under the count's cruel hand, a master of the sensuous. She learned how to combine torture with sex and she is a legend in her country.
"I learned of her during a visit to my homeland two years ago. When I went to call on her, I was taken into the dungeon by the count's guards and I was tortured and beaten for a full month. I survived everything the count could give me and, as reward, I was given Marella. She is mine. I own her. And yet, nobody owns Marella. She is her own woman. She is the queen and I am the king. You must never forget that. We will all now bow down to the queen. Bow down!"
The last two words were loud and shattering. Even the kerosene lamps blinked and swayed. We were spellbound by the huge man standing above us with his head in the rafters; and by the beautiful woman in the flowered kimono. Almost in a reflex, we all bowed our heads.
"Lower," Pietro commanded. "Touch your foreheads to the floor in honor of the queen."
It was a little crazy, but we did it. We bowed like a bunch of savages bowing to the god of fire. And we held that awkward position until Pietro told us to rise. Then he had another surprise.
"You," he said, pointing at Mark, from Dartmouth. "Come to your queen and bow in front of her.
Mark looked around at the rest of us, then shrugged his big football shoulders. He went to Marella and bowed until his forehead touched the floor in front of her. Marella smiled and, with a quick flicking gesture, she skimmed out of the kimono. There was a gasp in the room as the Amazon stood before us naked as a baby.
"Kiss her bare feet," Pietro said to Mark. "Kiss them both, gently but fervently."
Mark kissed the girl's feet, then scooted back to his previous position with his forehead on the floor.
"Now, you may look up and regard your queen in all her royal splendor and beauty," Pietro said.
Mark looked up. He could see the big black hairy snatch above him, and the twin globes of her mammoth breasts towering in the flickering lamplight. He gasped and swallowed hard.
"Take off your clothes," Pietro said.
Mark wasted no time. He was out of his clothes in three seconds. He knelt in front of Marella and his long cock was rigid and upright. He jerked it a couple of times at her and she smiled like the Mona Lisa.
I was convinced then that the orgy would be nothing more than a wild interlude in which Mark, from Dartmouth, would fuck the big Amazon while the rest of us watched, and grew hornier by degrees. But Pietro was full of surprises. He pointed at Suzanne, from Dennison, and said; "You. Come forward. Prostrate yourself before the queen. You may kiss her feet and then you may regard her beauty."
Strange as it seemed, Suzanne did exactly what she was told--and she did it with seeming pleasure. She leaped across the floor and was on her hands and knees in a jiffy. She touched her head to the floor and her long black hair formed a veil around her face. She kissed the Amazon's feet and then looked up at the hairy snatch and towering boobs.
While they were in that awkward position, Pietro crooked a finger at me. I went to the table and he bent over to whisper in my ear.
"Go to the small cottage," he said, "and open the footlocker at Marella's bed. Take out two whips and the gold-colored wooden box."
It was confusing, but I didn't question it. I darted out of the Great-house. The night was crisp and cold and the big fire that had cooked our feast was still burning. I ran to the little cottage and opened the footlocker. There were about a dozen whips, all alike. I took two and then lifted a box about the size of a shoebox. I was curious about its contents, but it was locked. I rushed back to the Great-house with the stuff.
Pietro was off the table now and he was also naked. He was strolling up and down between the rows of our group and his large dark prick was upright. It bobbed as he strode and all our girls stared at it as though they were transfixed by its hidden magic. I saw Tonia lean forward to get a better look at it in the dim lamplight and her mouth formed a pleasant O as though she were hoping to suck that great black member.
Pietro took the whips and the box from me and put them on the table. He unlocked the box with a. key he took from his discarded trousers. He opened the lid and I moved forward to see what was in the box. I almost choked with surprise.
It was a great artificial cock, easily twelve inches long and four inches around. The head, tinted a realistic pink, was much bigger, possibly five inches in circumference. The opposite end of that huge staff held a large dark bulb, like a ball bag, and narrow leather straps. I knew all about dildos, but this was the first time I had seen one.
Pietro turned to Suzanne and snapped a single word; "Strip!"
She did. In a hurry, she did. Then she went back to her bowing position and her smooth breasts touched the floor and I peered down at her upright, gleaming buttocks. Her vagina was exposed and we could all see the fleshy muscles convulse as she anticipated the strange orgy that was to come. A tiny trickle of moisture came out of her pussy and glistened on the cunt-hairs.
Pietro turned to the rest of us and gave his one-word order; "Strip."
We did, also In a hurry. But it was a frustrating experience. All the men were on one side, all the women on the other. On our side, there were twelve anxious, jutting cocks raised in the air. On the other side of the room, glistening softly in the mellow lamp-light, were twenty-four glorious breasts and twenty-four fetching thighs and twelve convulsing cunts--and twelve mouths formed in O's.
We all waited, certain that at any minute old Pietro would give another one-word order--"fuck." But he didn't. He calmly took the big dildo from the box and went to Marella with it. He strapped it around her wide hips and pulled the leather thongs tight across ,her buttocks. Two more straps were pulled between her legs and wrapped tightly around her heavy thighs. When he was finished, he gave her a whip and took the other in his right hand.
"Up, slaves," he ordered.
Mark and Suzanne were on their feet. They stood regarding the whips and the dildo with a kind of wild fascination. Pietro raised his whip and cracked it lightly against his hand. He pulled the leather through his fingers with a snap and let the whip dangle on the floor.
"This will be a very rudimentary lesson tonight," he announced, looking from Mark to Suzanne. "Since you are all novices, we will go easy. The count would hate me if he saw how easy I made the first lesson, but the count is not here."
To punctuate the end of his statement, he raised the whip and brought it down viciously across Mark's shoulders. The football player yelled and winced under the blow. A large pink welt raised quickly on his flesh and he put a hand up to investigate.
"Put the hands down," Pietro ordered. "Keep them down."
Mark let his arms dangle at his sides and the room was breathlessly quiet as we all waited for what was to happen next. It came swiftly.
Pietro moved to the other side of Marcella and brought the whip down on Suzanne's shoulders. The girl squealed, but didn't raise her hands. At the same moment, Marella seemed to come to life. She raised her whip and cracked Mark with it. Mark let out a hollow roar and tried to scamper away. A loud shout from Pietro brought him back and the big Amazon let him have it again.
Now the two intruders from Sicily were going great guns on the seemingly helpless couple. Blows from the whips rained on their naked bodies. They yelled and screamed at first, but shout after shout from Pietro soon stopped them. They groveled on the rough plank floor as the flashing whips cracked in the air and bit into their flesh, blow after blow after blow.
At first, the rest of us were horrified. There was a common movement by the men as we all lurched forward to stop the carnage. But Pietro raised a threatening hand and we rocked back on our heels. And then horror soon gave way to fascination and then to a kind of sexual pleasure from the sight.
There was so much to watch, my eyes were bouncing around like the balls in a pinball machine. It was pleasant to watch the squirming body of Suzanne, from Dennison, as she writhed under the whip, but was it was even more pleasurable to watch the great swaying tits of the Amazon as she raised and lowered the whip. She moved lithely, like a cougar, and her big buttocks flexed, and flashed in the lantern light. Sweat beaded on her body and she was wet and glistening all over. Drops of sweat worked down her breasts to her nipples and, when she delivered a particularly vicious blow, the drops would fall off and disappear on the dark floor.
And then there was Pietro with his great swinging dork of a prick, like a pole of meat, jiggling and bobbing as he worked furiously with his whip over the writhing body of Suzanne. And there was Mark, squirming on the floor, rolling over and over until we were all afraid he would catch his cock in the wrong position and snap it off with his rolling body.
Suddenly, the whipping stopped and we all waited to see who would be next. We fully expected Pietro to point to one of us and grunt his big "You!" but he didn't. When the whipping was over and the two members of our commune lay sweating and bleeding on the floor, Pietro and Marella fell into each other's arms. Their sweaty bodies flowed together and Pietro's big cock disappeared between the white gleaming thighs of the Amazon.
They stood like that for a long time, swaying to the tune of the Beatles' classic rendition of Let It Be, and sweating and panting and making weird sensual sounds. I hoped they would retire to their little house and have an old-fashioned fuck while the rest of us indulged in a long-awaited old-fashioned orgy, but that wasn't to be.
Pietro drew away from his precious queen and went to Mark's prostrate body. He raised the big football player's buttocks from the floor and planted him in a kneeling position. Marella sat on the floor in front of Suzanne and, even though the girl seemed half unconscious, the Amazon pulled her face up between her giant thighs. Suzanne came to life quickly when she caught the scent of the musky cunt so near her face. She crawled between the thighs of the seated queen and the room was soon filled with the gulping, lapping sounds of her tongue and lips on the Amazon's pussy.
My eyes flicked from this enticing scene to the big Sicilian and I saw that he had already parted Mark's buttocks and was pushing his cockhead into Mark's anus. Mark let out a healthy bellow, but nothing could stop the monster now. He screamed when the cock penetrated his ass and I watched his face contort in pain and horror as the great rod slid slowly into his bowels.
The rest of us were half crazy with lust now. All twelve cocks had beads of semen at their tips; all twelve cunts were flowing down soft, silken thighs. Now was the time for us to make our move, but nobody dared to. We stood there, in two desperate lines, looking at each other and at the two couples on the floor. Pietro was humping Mark splendidly now and Suzanne had her hands locked around Marella's thighs as she sucked her cunt as industriously as she could. Meanwhile, Pietro was jacking off Mark and Marella was finger-fucking little Suzanne. There was much howling of pleasure from all four of them and we couldn't tell who was gaining the most pleasure from the act.
We were about ready to break and run to each other across the room when Pietro let out a great howl and we knew he was spending his spunk into Mark's body. I knew that feeling well now and I half wished I were in Mark's place. Then, Marella let out an animal yell and her body bucked and lurched on the floor as she climaxed into Suzanne's pretty face.
Everybody else thought it would be our turn now, but I knew from experience that Pietro and Marella were not finished with their victims. But the finale was slightly different from the one I had enjoyed in the small house.
Marella bent Suzanne over the table, backwards, and moved the head of the gigantic dildo up to the girl's sopping pussy. At the same time, Pietro sat on the table beside Suzanne and had Mark get on his knees beside the table. He pulled Mark's ears until the football player from Dartmouth was facing Pietros' big Sicilian cock.
"Eat it," Pietro growled.
Mark hesitated and glanced over at Marella as she moved the black, pink-headed dildo deeper into Suzanne's stretching, yawning cunt. Suzanne was whimpering from the size of the instrument, but she was making no effort to repel the intruder. She wrapped her feet around Marella's full buttocks and pulled the girl toward her.
Mark drew a kind of sexual pleasure from this sight and, for the first time in his life, I am sure, he took a man's cock into his mouth. He went at it gingerly at first, then took the head into his mouth and seemed to gnaw at it hungrily. Apparently, he did the right things, because Pietro reared his head back on the table and let out a loud, satisfying roar.
By the time this latest act was drawing to a close, the twenty-four of us standing in two lines were in-sane with lust. My cock and balls felt as though someone had been beating on them with a sledge-hammer. The throbbing ache of desire rambled up through my thighs and groin and tied brutal knots in my stomach. I was so hot I would have screwed a knothole with a nail in it. When my eyes could no longer stand to gaze at the line of eager, naked broads across the room, they concentrated on the shimmering, flashing buttocks of Marella. I wanted to run up behind her and puncture that beautiful ass with my throbbing, tortured cock. I wanted to feel her beating me with the whip. I wanted anything that would bring me release from the frustrated longing that this evening's activities was bringing to me. All the others felt the same. Lust was at fever pitch in the Great House with its dim lanterns and pleasant memories. We were all bombs, ready to explode.
Pietro was the first to come. He broke like a grenade in Mark's mouth and, even though the football player tried to pull away, Pietro held him there until he had shot all his spunk down Mark's throat. Suzanne was right behind him. She yelped and bucked on the table until I thought she was going to break off the rustic legs. She clung to Marella and took the twelve-inch dildo deep inside her. When she came, Marella made a swift movement with her thighs and brought them together on the black rubber bulb. Suzanne screamed again and I knew that something inside the bulb had just been squirted up the girl's cunt.
Then it was all over and we waited to see if Pietro and Marella would choose another couple for another round of whipping and perversion. But they didn't. They calmly got dressed and went to the door. Pietro turned to look down the two rows of naked and volatile bodies. Then he said just before he opened the door for Marella; "The Thanksgiving feast is over."
When they were gone, we just stood there. We were dumbfounded and shattered. Mark, from Dartmouth, and Suzanne, from Dennison, were spent, but happy. They hauled their sated and bloodied bodies off to 'their cots and crawled into their sleeping bags. The rest of us stood like frozen statues, staring at the door and letting the sap of life drain out of us.
It was Doug, the halfback from Cornell, who broke first. He stepped from the line and said: "Screw that big dumb Sicilian. What the hell can he do to stop us? I'm ready for cunt."
He moved across the floor like an animal and grabbed beautiful Ludith, from Antioch, in his arms. With an animal yell, he dumped her on the floor and she spread her legs willingly, hungrily. He raised his buttocks, aimed his throbbing cock and plunged home with a most satisfying thrust.
We went insane then. Two lines broke like soldiers in panic and we ran at each other like dogs. I grabbed Marianne, from Northwestern, just as her hand dosed over my cock. I buried my face in her heavy breasts and backed her heavily against the wall. I was going to take her standing up. I wanted . to go down on her and taste that flowing pussy, but my cock was too eager--it wouldn't spare me the time.
I found her open pussy and slid my angry cock up into the smooth, flowing walls. Our groins jammed together and I felt her wet, cool cunt-hairs against my flesh. I drew back sweetly, savoring the soft drag of her cunt on my sliding cock, and prepared for another great plunge.
I never made it.
The door opened and we all froze in position. I think every cock had found a haven, but nobody had reached climax. We just held ourselves rigid while Pietro strode into the room, clattering his motorcycle boots loudly on the board floor.
"I said the feast was over," he bellowed. "Who dared to disobey my command?"
He looked around the room into every face, then unerringly made his selection. He pointed to big Doug.
"You," he snarled. "Outside."
Doug was still buried in Ludith's hungry pussy and he was reluctant to pull out.
Pietro didn't wait for any voluntary action. He grabbed Doug by his long hair and hauled him across the floor and outside into the cold, black night. We all gathered around the door and listened--we couldn't see a thing. What we heard were loud cracks and grunts and we knew that Pietro was beating Doug with his fists.
After what seemed an interminable time, Pietro came inside and glowered at us.
"Next time this happens," he threatened, "I'll take you all outside one at a time. Women, too."
He left and Doug stumbled through the open door-way. His face was a mass of blood and gore. Three teeth were missing. One eye was swelling shut. He stumbled to his cot, crawled into his sleeping bag and that was the last of the orgy.
Except for me. A half hour after the lamps were blown out, I felt a warm body slip into the cot with me and unzip my sleeping bag.