Chapter 11
Sherrie balked as Jill goaded her through the doorway into a large room off the hallway. Behind her, the din of randy laughter and tinny, off key singing, echoed off the walls to pound in her ears. Sherrie's fear dilated pupils focused on one object: Southworth's placid face as he sat with a drink in hand talking to a well dressed man. One step into the room and the numbers multiplied.
The mirror-walled room opened onto a mahogany bar sparkling with crystal decanters filled with amber liquors. It all painted a moral picture-until her eyes fell on the round bed set on a stage. Around it sat soft, cushiony chairs for the voyeurs who would watch her.
"Come on," encouraged Jill lightheartedly. "Let's have a drink."
Sherrie tripped after her mentor and plopped herself down at the bar. Behind her she could feel the eyes, hungry predatory eyes, boring into her naked back. Sherrie shuddered and grabbed for the glass from Jill's proffered hand. A trickle of the amber liquid dribbled down her dimpled chin as she gulped it dry.
"Hey, take it easy, honey," warned Jill. "And don't look so nervous . . . you'll piss off Southworth!" Tremorously, Jill shot Southworth a placating grin. She could see the displeasure in his piercing eyeballs and through clenched teeth she hissed at Sherrie to turn around and smile.
"Oh, oh," Jill sucked in her breath. "He's coming over here!"
Sherrie stiffened with fear, grabbed for the decanter and poured herself another drink. She'd swallowed half of the burning liquid by the time Southworth was breathing down her back.
His voice cut like a knife. "You girls don't look as if you're having a very good time. . . and these men have paid a lot of money to see happy women. Now swing around, Sherrie, and uncross your legs and let the men see your cunt! I won't tell you again."
Southworth, the perfidious tormentor, was chipping away her defenses. Coughing from the rest of the scotch puddling her gullet, she swung around reading the murderous message in Southworth's eyes as he settled between two unctuously dressed men whose expensive cologne stung her nostrils. The scotch began working at her emotions, blurring fear and hate . . yes, and a bubble of lustful anticipation.
"Smile," pleaded Jill settling beside the inebriated captive and slinging one lithe leg over the other. "Pull up your skirt or we're done!"
Knowing she'd never see another Christmas if she didn't obey his salacious commands, Sherrie threw self respect to the wind and rode the winds for survival. Dizzily, she swung around on the bar stool and exposed a naked sweep of thigh and buttocks. Staring at Southworth under fluttery eyelashes, she uncrossed her legs and showed the blue vee of her panties snug over the pouting vaginal mound.
The balding man next to Southworth, the one with the sparkling pinky ring, whispered to the perpetrator of Sherrie's gloom and then rose to his feet. Sherrie gulped as he came towards her, his eyes wide with lust.
Roy Jepsen's flinty eyes raked over the provocative vision of auburn-haired beauty. A long red curl had fallen over her naked shoulder, teasing at the cleavage that rippled as she reached nervously for her drink. Something about the innocence of her unmeasured movements fascinated him, hinted at an acceptance of pleasure.
Abruptly the lights dimmed and someone closed the door, muffling the laughter and bastardized Christmas carols beyond. Soft red lights circling the platform of the circular bed flooded the room with a sensual aura of anticipation. Sherrie's throat constricted and fear clawed at her heart as she felt Roy's hands guiding her by the shoulder.
"I guess they're ready to start," remarked Jill offhandedly, grabbing a decanter of scotch and tripping along behind Roy and his pathetically terrorized toy for the evening.
Sherrie's ankles wobbled and Jill slunk an arm around her waist to steady her. "You'll get off . . . the angel dust always helps."
Angel dust sounded like a Christmas cookie, but judging from the bitter experience of the past few days, she knew Southworth had no sweet tortures!
Jill answered her silent inquiry. "Yeah, it's a drug . . . kinda puts you out so you don't have to think."
"I.. . I don't want any, Jill. . . please don't let him make me-" Sherrie shook her auburn head and tumbled into a soft, cushiony chair, drunk on scotch and fear. She felt a chafing twist at her right wrist, and pried open her drunken eyes to stare into Southworth's blazing eyes.
"Sure you want it . . . now be polite and accept what's given you, damn it!" he hissed.
She did . . . and went numb. Her lissome body tingled, cutting through the alcohol haze. Nothing felt real, not the men sitting oogling at her delicate curves and swells, not even the flush-faced woman staring back at her from the mirrored walls. Slowly, her hand rose to touch her cheek. Yes, she thought drifting into a drugged haze, this is my flesh.
A warm hand touched her neck and craning her neck, Sherrie stared into Jill's wide blue eyes. "Come on, honey . . . Southworth wants us to start."
The semi-circle of men sucked in their breath collectively at the hour-glass figure clad in a half-cup strapless brassiere, garter belt hugging her voluptuously rounded thighs, and fishnet stockings. She stood nearly naked, her fluff of blonde fleece tufting below the line of her garter belt. Sherrie sucked in her breath, too. When had Jill stripped-and before all these men!
Southworth's unspoken command slashed through the haze of drugged inebriation and slowly, Sherrie rose to her feet, instinctively knowing what was demanded of her.
"Come on, honey . . . I'll make it good for you," whispered Jill, slipping behind the captive and helping pull down the zipper to get the dress off her shoulders. Her nimble hands slipped down to cup her breasts while the tip of her tongue licked at the goose-bumped back of Sherrie's neck to send chills rippling down her spine.
The first thunderbolts of disgust passed. Dear God, he wants me to make love to a woman.. . in front of all these men! Would the torture ever end? Thinking was a big chore with Jill's hand working over her body, sliding down her smoothly rippling belly to let her fingers tease the lips of Sherrie's pussy under her lacey bikini panties;
"Let yourself feel," whispered Jill in gusts of warm breath.
Then a shudder rippled through Sherrie's body when one of Jill's hands slipped behind her and unfastened the clasp of her lacey brassiere. Her mind, clouded with angel dust, slowed her reflexes and her brassiere fluttered to the carpet. Jill's hands were everywhere, caressing and touching her, arousing her, nipping at her nipples, gliding over her satiny buttocks and whispering over her steaming pussy, arousing her in a way Jack never had.
Jill swung her captive around so they stood facing each other, Jill a scant three inches taller, so that when she licked her tongue over Sherrie's trembling lips, the tip slipped under the cleft of her upper lip, teasing feverishly. Sherrie closed her eyes against the lesbian gesture and shivered, feeling Jill's fingers pull at the slender band of her panties, rolling them over her sleek hips and naked thighs. Then she stiffened for the feel of fingertips caressing her vagina venturing through the fleecy nest for the bud of her clitoris and flicking at it with a soft fingertip.
Hot sexuality, thick and sweet as warm cream, rushed through Sherrie's feverishly aroused body and her mind drifted off to erotic paradise as Jill's tongue teased over her succulent lips and her fingers played on her thumping clitoris. Despite the horror of being made captive to these unctuous voyeurs, her body began to move in rhythm to Jill's expert touches. Again Southworth had discovered the core of her animal sensuality and was playing on her weakness.
Dear God, when had Jill stripped off her panties? Dully, she had a vague remembrance of feeling a rush of cold air on her genitals. She stood with legs spread, letting Jill's hand caress her cunt.. . so moist and hot and twitching.
Mindlessly, Sherrie's tongue slipped out between her rosy lips and the two of them stood licking, not kissing, as Sherrie's sweaty hands swept behind Jill to undo her brassiere. From their sidelines, the men muttered and grunted approval. She could feel their presence. The room swam in a sexual heat that mingled with the pungent sweetness of the drug-laced cigarettes as the two naked women stood nipple to nipple, naked except for Jill's black garter belt and stockings and high heels. The mirrored walls reflected their sparring tongues loving with lesbian joy, while Jill reached out and slid a snaky finger all the way up Sherrie's seeping cunt!
Sherrie's hands flew up to caress her lesbian captor's swollen breasts, to tease her nipples into bumblebee erections, arousing her with a feline knowledge of what Myra had taught her she would appreciate.
Roy was going crazy! He humped in his chair, his penis pumping in one hand, a drink in the other. He sat with his piercing eyes flinting over the two women while his Chicago friends watched the two women and unzipped their tailor made pants to stroke their bulging cocks poking out of initialed silk shorts. Roy stroked his cock softly then, fearing he might ejaculate prematurely. He wanted to savor the pleasure of watching women make each other cum.
He watched the women going wild, stroking each other like cats in heat, fluttering over naked flesh. The one with the auburn hair was his choice; he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Her magnificent high-breasted body fascinated him, the tiny waist and full thighs as she stood now with her legs slightly bent and spread apart, her pelvis thrust out while the blonde-haired prostitute slid two fingers in and out of her swollen cunt. Roy's eyes riveted on the sweet nest of Sherrie's cunt, flowering with wet passion!
Southworth sat smugly in his chair, feeling the excitement and sexual tension in the room mount electrically as the two naked women stood face to face, their tongues licking, sucking, slurping at the other's creamy flesh. He watched Jill's free hand rise to her breast and take one of Sherrie's teasing hands to slowly guide it down over her smooth stomach, through the nest of her pubic curls to the heat of her womb.
Sherrie shed resistance as Jill guided her hand down until her fingers touched the softly curling pubic hair. Of their own volition, her fingers ventured, touching, feeling, reveling in the soft, moist beauty of another woman's cunt. She let the tip of her middle finger slide between the other's puffy cuntal lips and threw back her head, while she reveled and thrilled at the magic of touching another woman's cunt . . . so soft and smooth, warm and moist. Her middle finger sluiced along the hot slit, feeling the juices sticky and seeping as she rolled her pelvis downward and out and spread her legs, bending them slightly at the knees.
Their breath bathed each other's faces, so closely they stood, their stomachs and breasts touching as they swayed their shoulders back and forth, rubbing their nipples against each other as Jill with a wild thrill, felt her finger slide up into her lesbian lover's cunt. She fucked in and out of that wet hole as the women pumped their hips in perfect rhythm of lust.
The playroom fell silent, except for the heavy breathing and rustle of clothing as every eye fastened on the two women moving and caressing each other obscenely. Jill, her eyes closed tight, eyelashes fluttering over flushed cheek bones, felt her body light with passion from liquor and the magic angel dust. . . and Sherrie's unexpected expert caresses. Suddenly Jill's middle finger pulled free of her sucking cunt and her hands slipped around her possessively. Jill was cupping her buttocks in her hands and pulling her forward, smashing their pubic mounds together.
In answer, Sherrie cupped the cheeks of Jill's soft buttocks and the two women stood in the center of the room with their knees bent, their thighs rubbing against one another, their backs arched away from each other. Their heads threw back in animal abandonment and their hair hung free and long as they ground their pubic mounds together. Sherrie gnashed her teeth from the thrill of her pubic curls slipping on Jill's wet cunt and the electric excitement of Jill's pubic hair scraping over her swollen clitoris and teasing it to wicked heights of arousal. Their swollen pussy lips kissed and they groaned and clutched each other like fiercely mating cats, pumping and grinding.
Sherrie was maddened with lust, stumbling. She started to fall, crazed with the bittersweet torment as her clitoris burned and her pussy lips throbbed. Blood pounded in her ears.
Hoy heaved a cry of delight as Sherrie fell on the round bed, making the step up to the platform in a desperate attempt to find relief. She tumbled onto the mattress, her legs split wide. And Jill was right there to help . . . she pulled her lover's hips forward until they were on the round edge and then she spread her friend's legs wider still. With a lazy groan of lust, Sherrie let them fall open. Jill fell to her knees and knelt between them and, using the palms of her soft, warm hands to force her thighs still wider, she leaned over Sherrie's trapped body and saw her milk-white belly flowing up to her firm breasts. Lizard-like, Jill's teasing tongue darted out to lick at Sherrie's dimpled navel, bringing a long moan of joy from Sherrie's laxly parted lips.
With maddening slowness, Jill began licking down the captive's stomach, before burying her face in the darkly curling pubic hair and watching Sherrie's cunt flower open and twitch convulsively like a fish's hungry mouth, begging in a rhythmic joy as it glistened with lust-crazed titillation.
Every man in the room sat on the edge of the cushioned chair, gawking at Sherrie's reddened cunt with wild awe. The shy, auburn-haired woman turned lesbian was a rarity at the Hunters Point Inn . . . a rarity they would pay dearly for. And they did.
Jill's practiced tongue darted out and licked around the puffy cuntal lips of Sherrie's trapped body that shook and goose-bumped with desire. She thrust up her hips, rotating them and spread her legs as wide as they would go while the men murmured obscenities, groaned and stroked kittenishly at their bulging cocks.
With slow, torturous movements, Jill's tongue snaked up and down Sherrie's seething cunt, barely touching it, teasing it with feathery touches. Sherrie groaned aloud at the electrifying thrill as her body writhed and ground, longing for more sweet lesbian torture . . . begging for more . . . much more.
Then with a flicker of an eyelash, Jill plunged her tongue into the steaming depths of Sherrie's aching cunt and Sherrie bent her knees and pulled them back and up so that they crushed against her magnificent breasts. Jill's tongue sucked at the juicy softness of her friend's fleeced vagina, delighting in the pungent taste of another woman's lust. She pulled her pink tongue out to work at the nubby, thumping clitoris that kept moving teasingly out of reach as Sherrie's hips ground lewdly into the bed.
Jill, frenzied with desire, broke the soulful kiss and fell in a mass of goose-bumped flesh on top of her captive like a man, her tongue licking out. "Did that please you, honey?" she whispered in Sherrie's ear, her pussy grinding down hard on Sherrie's nakedly exposed
"Oh . . . " Sherrie flailed her auburn head from side to side. Nothing was real; nothing mattering now.
"Then do it to me!" came the hissed reply.
Sherrie answered in a throaty rasp as their bodies, covered with a sheen of sweat, writhed together on the bed in front of the men's oogling eyes. Heat of arousal steamed from their bodies as they licked each other's tongues and rubbed their cunts together in grinding circles. The men lifted from their seats to watch, sweat beading on their tight faces as they licked their dry lips, their mouths suddenly parched from a savage desire to suck and fuck the two women who were clawing at each other's bodies like hungry cats.
And Sherrie had turned feline. She had reached a state of sexual desperation and together they licked and writhed, stroked and caressed, becoming more frantic and wild. Now Sherrie was in a crazy, writhing passion . . . a whirlpool of lust. A feeling that surpassed blissful orgasm sizzled in her veins, numbing her brain and sparking her nerve endings. Her eyes swelled shut, her teeth ground and barred. She wrapped her long legs around Jill's waist and locked her slender ankles and squeezed with every ounce of strength left to her. She flattened her seeping cunt against Jill's. Together they moaned and licked and twisted on the bed while their hips pumped and they rocked back and forth, humping each other madly. They rocked too far, teetered over the rounded edge and crashed to the carpeted stage.
Bewildered, Sherrie rose up on her hands and knees and glanced around. Thank God . . . Jill was right there, sprawled spread eagled on her back. Sherrie groped toward her, groaning, eyelashes fluttering; Jill slowly bent her knees and spread her legs wide, opening a moist cunt to Sherrie and all the men in the room.
Sherrie's glistening body crawled between her lover's legs and her green eyes gazed at the lust twitching face. The heat of her sex seemed to steam from Jill's pussy and for the first time, Sherrie saw another woman as a sexual object. Bending her elbows slightly, she lowered her breasts so that her puckered nipples just barely touched Jill's pouting mounds. She swayed back and forth, rubbing her hardened nipples over Jill's firm mounds. Then, sensing the men in the room and knowing her bare buttocks were open to them, she split her legs wide, stretching her knees out until they touched the insides of Jill's thighs. The men dropped to hands and knees to get a better view of the brown button of Jill's anus and the ragged, pink folds of her cunt, throbbing with blood and twitching with lust.
With a languid sigh, she lowered her naked body onto Jill who thrust her hips up and slowly lowered her weight until she was pressed against Jill's naked flesh and their wetly seeping cunts kissed. Sherrie pumped her hips while Roy, on the floor, peered longingly at the tiny brown hole. His breath panted from his lungs.
The room was hypnotic with the smell of lust. No one spoke. Sherrie could feel the men's hot breath bathing her back as Jill cupped her breasts in her trembling hands, cupping and tilting them, offering them up to Sherrie's succulent mouth.
With a desperate groan, Sherrie bent her head and poked her velvety tongue between her teeth to lick at the hardening nipple, feeling strangely excited at licking another woman's breasts . . . so milky and soft. Softly, she took one of the rosebud nipples in her hot mouth and gently sucked it while the tips of her teeth nibbled teasingly.
The animalistic need to claw herself away from this bittersweet torture and orgasm overwhelmed her senses. Her body was on fire, from the tips of her puckered nipples to her curled under toes; she wiggled down over Jill who bent her knees while her hands played with Sherrie's navel and played there for a teasing moment.
In Sherrie's drugged mind, she felt as if she were a spectator of her own lustful actions. In a split of mind and body, she watched with an objectively critical eye, two women making lesbian love . . . breaking all morals and societal rules . . . and it was damned exciting!
Her eyes peeped open to tiny green slits, her eyelids heavy with passion and there, not an inch away, at the height of Jill's silken thighs, was her fringed pussy, dripping with love juices and pouting for attention.
Once is fun and twice is habit.. . the words flitted through Sherrie's mind. Am I really becoming a lesbian? Oh, Gawd . . . I can't help myself.