Chapter 8
Susan pleaded with them. She didn't want to be bound and gagged. But they insisted that it must be done, and she was frightened enough to accept it. However, she steadfastly refused to take off her clothes. So they overpowered her, two of them holding her while the other stripped her. She struggled. She cried. She begged.
To no avail. They were adamant in their agreement that she had to be naked.
"But why?" she wailed, as her brassiere was removed and her large, beautiful breasts were exposed to their excited eyes. "It doesn't make any sense! Why do you want me naked?"
"It was Rob's idea," Reyes grunted, holding her left arm with one hand while he mauled her vulnerable breasts with the other.
"No real reason," Charles grinned, tugging her panties down her long, tapering legs, pulling them over her dainty feet and leaving her stark naked. "I guess we just want to."
"Oh, my God!" she groaned, straining and twisting about when Charles reached up between her legs and tickled her tender asshole with his finger.
"Give me her panties," Simmons said. "The belt from her skirt, too, if you will."
The chauffeur gave the butler Susan's undergarment and belt, then took his turn holding her while Simmons stuffed the panties into Susan's mouth and pulled the belt tight around her head and buckled the nylon gag securely in place.
Simmons stepped back to admire his handiwork. The brown belt was made of imitation leather, but it was sturdy enough. The width of the belt hid her full lips completely. The shiny metal buckle was where her mouth should have been. Above it, her nostrils were twice their normal size. She couldn't utter a word. She was petrified. Her eyes were nearly popping out of their sockets by then.
"You've got a hard-on, Simmons," Charles chuckled.
The butler threw a quick glance down at his tented trousers. He was smiling tightly when he looked back up. "So I have. Can't seem to help it, though. My Lord! Isn't she lovely like that? Let me run into the kitchen and get some nylon cord. Won't be a minute." He hurried out and back, reentering the room with a length of nylon clothesline in one hand and a paring knife in the other. "Pull her down in the center of the bed. Tits up. That's it. Now stretch her arms out toward the posts."
With the three servants working together, the gardener and chauffeur holding her down and spreading her vulgarly open while the butler tied her wrists and ankles to the four posts of the ornate brass bed, Susan knew it was useless to resist. They would only hurt her if she did, then do with her whatever they wished anyway. As it stood, they'd promised not to harm her, and she tried to make herself believe they would keep their word. She whimpered and moaned. She quaked with fear. But she let them have their lewd way with her nude body. She had no choice.
"There!" Simmons said triumphantly, stepping back to view the total scene of her helplessness when he'd finished binding her.
She was obscenely spread-eagled now. Her arms were upraised and out-flung, with her wrists attached to the posts at the head of the bed by lengths of the slender nylon rope. Her legs were spread wide-open, her trim ankles firmly bound to the brass posts at the foot of the bed. Her own panties were stuffed in her mouth, the nylon soaking up her saliva and becoming slick and wet. The belt was tight around her head, mashing her lips and rendering her speechless.
Susan tugged testingly at her bonds. The nylon cord bit into her ankles and wrists. She could hardly move a muscle. Her head, fingers and toes were the only movable parts of her whole body. Slowly she lifted her head. The men were watching her. Her wide eyes mirrored the fear within her when she noticed that all three of the men's-crotches were bulging. She groaned through her nose and shut her eyes, letting her head flop back into the pillow.
They could do anything to me they wanted to! she thought frantically. Absolutely anything! I'm utterly helpless! Good heavens! I can't even beg!
Simmons unbuckled his belt and started pulling it out through the loops of his trousers. Reyes unzipped his fly and let his enormous cock spring out.
"What the hell do you two think you're going to do?" Charles asked.
"A few lashes on those adorable thighs!" Simmons breathed, approaching the bed as he raised the belt.
The hulking Mexican-American put his arm out and held the smaller man back. "You ain't whipping her till after I fuck her, so back off!"
"You'd better not whip her at all, Rob," Charles warned. "I'll break your damned arm if you do, and that's a promise!"
Reyes was climbing onto the bed by then, using Susan's nearest tit for a handle to pull himself over her defenseless form.
Groaning, Susan stared up at the gardener, her saucer-like eyes imploring him not to screw her.
His hand trembling, Simmons reached into his pocket and brought out his pistol, but before he had a chance to use it on Reyes, Charles grabbed it.
"Cut out the bullshit!" Charles bellowed, brandishing the gun back and forth at the butler and gardener. "You guys can fuck her and whip her all you want after we find those coins but, by God, I'll shoot you if you fuck around like that now! Get off her, Reyes! I mean it, buddy!"
"You sonofabitch!" Reyes grunted, but he swung from between Susan's legs and hopped off the bed. "I'll break your neck!"
"Don't get your shit all hot, boys. There's what, about two-hundred thousand dollars at stake? But we've got to find it before we can divide it. Right? And to find it, we've got to keep our cool. Now, don't we? What comes first? That case of money or a piece of ass? Use your heads, for Christ's sake!"
Simmons turned away from the bed. "Seeing her that way did something to me," he mumbled. "But you're right, Charles."
Reyes grinned embarrassedly as he stuffed his cock back inside his pants and zipped up. "Okay, so I won't break your neck."
"Let's get this coin hunt under way," Charles said, giving the pistol back to Simmons, who dropped it quickly into his pocket. "The sooner we find that case, the sooner we can split up the loot and clear out of here once and for all."
As the servants trooped from the bedroom, Susan heaved a sigh of relief. I'm safe for the time being, thank God, she thought. They won't bother me again-not till after they find the case and divide the coins. Maybe not then. Maybe they'll just take their loot and go away. Lord, I hope so! I don't want any of them touching me again!
She'd never thought she would be willing to have people steal from her, but she was now. She was glad their lust for the coin collection was stronger than their lust for her body. Now that her grandmother's corpse had been found, she knew the case of coins was the only thing holding them. If finding it and dividing the valuable collection would rid her of them, then she wanted them to find it and go away forever.
They were in the kitchen. She could hear drawers being pulled out and dumped before they were flung away.
"Look under the stove! Behind it! Help me push the refrigerator over! It might be strapped to the bottom! No, goddamn it! Where is it? Get a crowbar and a sledge hammer! The old bat had some workmen in not long ago! She might have plastered the damned case up inside the walls!"
The banging, crashing and tearing sounds drifted in to where Susan lay shivering and cringing.
They're going crazy! she thought. Listen to them! They're demolishing the kitchen! Destroying everything! Ripping out the walls!
The kitchen was gutted beyond repair when, having found no treasure, they moved the hunt into the dining room and went through the same procedure there. Except for the walls. The kitchen was the only place where any plastering they knew of had been going on recently, and tearing out walls proved to be much harder work than the domestics were used to.
"Do you suppose it could be in one of the bedrooms?" Charles asked exasperatedly after they'd ransacked the dining room and turned up nothing.
"Not in Krista's room," Reyes said, wiping sweat off his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "I helped her search it. We gave it a good going over."
"Maybe Krista did find the case and take it with her, after all," Charles muttered.
"No," Simmons assured. "I told you I was lying about that. I saw her leave, all right, but she wasn't laboring with her valise. The coins are still here ... in the house somewhere!"
"All we've got to do is find them!" Reyes groaned.
"How about the old lady's bedroom?" Charles asked.
Susan held her breath, saying a silent prayer. She didn't want them in the room with her. The sight of her helplessly bound body had a powerful erotic effect on them, and she feared they would pause in their searching long enough to have their wicked way with her.
"Too obvious," Simmons said. "The old bitch was much too sly a fox to have hidden it in her own bedroom. Let's try the sitting room next. If we don't find it there, we'll search the library and then move on upstairs."
Susan let out her breath in a sigh. She was at that moment looking at the oil portriat of her grandmother-done when she was in her forties and still a very fetching woman-which hung across from the foot of the bed. It was a huge portrait, of Mrs. Robards reclining on a chaise longue on the veranda. The planted woods surrounding Robards Manor had been new then, but the bright colors of the autumn leaves on the young trees had been captured on the canvas. It was an excellent painting, and huge, running the full length of the mantel and reaching almost to the high ceiling of the old room.
Neither Susan nor the servants suspected just how sly the late Mrs. Robards had been. The case of coins' was hidden in the most obvious place a vain, self-centered woman could have thought to hide it, because Mrs. Robards had known it would be the last place anyone would think to look. The workmen had thought it odd when the old woman had asked them to take down the painting in her bedroom, but they'd done it. And because they were making so much noise with their kitchen remodeling, no one had heard the hammering in the master bedroom of the house. Mrs. Robards hadn't bothered the workman for plaster. She'd had her own. Paint, too. When she asked the workmen to rehang the painting the following day, they'd been in a hurry and hadn't noticed the area of new paint which almost perfectly matched the color of the old. Only one person had heard the workmen grumbling about having to take down the portrait just so the old woman could clean it without having to stand on a ladder.
Better them than one of the other servants and himself, Simmons had muttered under his breath at the time, because the yearly cleaning Mrs. Robards gave her beloved portrait had been due about then and he'd been dreading the chose of taking it down and putting it back up for her. Simmons had dismissed the incident from his mind, counting it as a minor stroke of good luck, and had taken no thought of it since. Not yet, anyway.
Susan could hear them in the living room. They were slashing and ripping at the upholstered furniture, tearing it completely apart in their frantic search for the case of rare coins. She felt like crying. All of the furniture was very expensive, and some of the pieces were antiques upon which prices had never been set.
The living room lay in ruin when they left it and went in to pillage the library. The upholstered furniture there received the same treatment. Desks were turned inside out. Books were dragged off shelves and sent crashing to the floor.
The men were cooperating, but that didn't mean they trusted one another. After having searched the entire first floor of the house, except for the two bedrooms, their lust for the hidden treasure was greater than ever, but they were becoming suspicious and frustrated.
"Might as well move on upstairs," Simmons said. By then he'd removed his coat and tie and his thinning hair was no longer neatly combed.
"Right," Charles said, "and I think we'll start with your quarters."
"But there's only a handful of coins there," Simmons assured. "The ones I found individually. Surely you don't think I would have the case hidden in my room! If that were so, why would I be helping you search for it? Indeed, why would I be here now at all?"
"You afraid to let us go through your things, man?" Reyes grunted.
"Of course not!" Simmons snapped. "It's just that it's pointless! A waste of time! We can't afford to waste any time, you know! Suppose the police decide to drop by and ask more of their inane questions? What if Susan should free herself?"
"Maybe you'd better go check on her while we look through your stuff," Charles told him, as he and Reyes left the cluttered library and started toward the stairs.
Simmons fingered his belt buckle while he stood watching the gardener and chauffeur ascend the stairs. He thought of Susan lying nude on the bed, bound and gagged, utterly helpless, unable to resist or even cry out. He thought of the several minutes it would take the others to search his room. In record time his penis rose to a state of erection which he found to be painful in the confines of his clothes. His upper lip twitched as he unzipped his fly and fished out his aching rod. Then the corners of his mouth turned up slightly and his eyes started to narrow. As he walked toward the bedroom, he took off his belt and palmed the buckle.
Since Susan hadn't overheard the conversation in the library, she didn't anticipate a visit from the butler. It was somewhat of a shock for the young woman when she saw him approaching the bed with an evil gleam in his eyes, his prick sticking out and his belt in his hand.
"It's a shame that things have worked out this way, because I sincerely believe we could've been happy together," he said. Then he swung the belt with surprising strength and raised a red welt on the creamy skin of her nearest thigh.
Susan screamed a muffled scream and her body jerked reflexively.
"I'm going to flog you, Mistress Susan," he informed her coolly, lifting the belt high into the air.
"Noom!" she cried. With her panties in her mouth and her belt over her lips, the sound of her horror was nasal and unintelligible.
"I must," he said. "Seeing you like this, with your lovely body naked and so appealingly bound, has brought out a facet of my personality that I hadn't dreamed existed. I must flog you, my dear. I simply must!"
There was nothing Susan could do to stop him. He struck her again. She cried out and shuddered. There were two ugly red stripes on her milk-white thigh now. Taking careful aim, the masochist-turned-sadist placed his third lash across the appealing, slightly rounded surface of her quivering lower abdomen. Straining against her bonds, she screamed into the gag and bowed upward, then fell back and stared at the upraised belt through terrified eyes.
"Some people love being flogged," he said. "What about you, Mistress Susan?"
"Noom, noom!" she wailed.
"Ah, what a pity, But it doesn't matter, really, not to me. How about the helplessness of your condition? Does being in bondage produce any sort of erotic mood? A tingle in your adorable little pussy, perhaps?"
Susan shut her eyes and groaned.
"No denial there, hmmm? That's very interesting. I thought I detected a bit of telltale moisture here," he said, and he ran his hand obscenely over her exposed privates.
She whimpered. His shameless hand was ranging over her groin, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. And worst of all, he was right. The bondage was having its lurid effect on her. At first it had only horrified her, but that seemed hours ago. It seemed to her as if she'd been tied to the bed for hours, lying there helpless and vulnerable as her mind kept morbidly thinking about what the male servants could and might decide to do to her.
"Yes," he sighed, insinuating his fingertip into the soft pink crevice of her hairy sex split. "You're getting nice and wet, you little darling."
Don't! Please don't do that! she wanted to say, but of course she couldn't because of the gag.
The very fact of her helplessness seemed to excite her. She held her breath as he sank the full length of his finger slowly into the moist warmth of her responding pussy.
"There," he said, moving his finger around inside her. "Do you like that?"
Yes, damn you! she thought. I don't want to ... but I do! What's the matter with me? Mmmm ... oh, that feels good! I shouldn't like what he's doing to me! I'm afraid of him ... of what he might do! I should be screaming!
A second later she was screaming, because he'd jerked his pleasure-giving finger from her and slapped her cunt a stinging blow with the end of his belt. Then his finger was back inside her, turning the pain into pleasure and making her moan and squirm about in sensual discomfort.
Alternating rapidly, Simmons finger fucked and whipped her snatch. He lashed her tender portal hard enough to hurt her, but not so severely as to actually damage the sensitive flesh of that attractive opening.
Pain, pleasure. Pain, pleasure. It changed so swiftly. Susan shuddered and bucked, moaned and screamed. Then she quit bucking and screaming. She couldn't tell the difference any longer. Her flesh couldn't distinguish the pain from the pleasure. It was torture, but torture of a type from which sado-masochism feeds.
Something inside Susan snapped, and then the pain itself was pleasure. She lay there twitching and moaning while Simmons gave up the fingering and concentrated on whipping her twat, then her thighs, then her belly and finally the soft, jiggling mounds of her innocent, pointed-tipped breasts.
There was no blood. Simmons saw that she was beginning to like being flogged, so he was careful not to draw any. That could come later, after they were married. Yes, he was sure the rich young lady would marry him, after all, and what a perfect marriage it would be, too, now that he'd found a streak of masochism in her. There were other things to worry about, but for the present he concentrated all his attention on developing the latent element he'd discovered in Susan-the one which would cause them to be perfectly mated.
As for Susan, she had no conscious thoughts. In her fit of masochistic bliss, she was incapable of them. All the spread-eagled beauty could do was lie there trembling and twitching, a continuous stream of sighs and moans pouring from her flared nostrils as she took the lashes her delighted butler was only too happy to give her. Her smooth, white skin was covered with red streaks from her graceful neck clear down to her dimpled knees.
"I love you so much, Susan!" Simmons exclaimed, laying another lash across her heaving stomach.
"OOOHHH!" she moaned, and another wave of pussy juice gushed from her hair-ringed sex hole.
"We'll get married, darling! Would you like that?" he asked, and he reached out for her nearest nipple, taking the tumid cone between his thumb and forefinger and pinching as he twisted it.
"OOOMMMM!!!" Susan groaned, flinging her head.
"Shall I whip you some more, darling?" he asked.
Susan groaned and nodded her head.
A smug smile crept over the butler's face. "Would you like me to fuck you now, Susan?"
She groaned and nodded her head.
Simmons gloated, his eyes feasting on the sight of her abused, writhing body. "Will you marry me, Susan?"
Her glassy eyes gazed up imploringly at him. Bowing upward, lifting her well-rounded fanny clear off the bed, the bound and gagged girl heaved a guttural groan and nodded urgently. The questioning tone of his voice was all she heard. She didn't know what she was agreeing to. It didn't matter. At the moment, her lust was so great that she would've agreed to anything he said.
His nuts were already hugging his groin when the butler dove atop the young woman and penetrated the hairy slit of her sopping cunt with one vicious thrust. It was all over for Simmons as soon as his aching rod hit home. He groaned, shuddered, and ejaculated his pent-up load.
A gurgling sound of tortured delight rumbled in Susan's throat as her cock-hungry pussy sucked the rhythmic jets of his orgasm up into her sperm-starved belly. Then his dick went limp and she could feel it slipping from her, and her mind screamed, MORE, YOU SONOFABITCH! DON'T STOP NOW! FUCK ME ... OH, GOD ... FUCK MEEE!!! I NEED IT SO BAD!!!
"I'll go help those greedy devils find the coins," he said, getting up and putting away the thing Susan wanted most in all the world. "We'll be rid of them then, darling, and we can make plans for our future together."
"Simmons? Simmons! Where the hell are you?" It was Charles, descending the stairs after having searched the butler's quarters. "Come on, man! Help us find the coins!"
Charles and Simmons arrived at the bedroom door at the same time. They bumped together and the smaller man was bowled over.
The butler got up muttering under his breath. "Watch where you're going, damn it! I told you, you wouldn't find the case in my room, didn't I? Are you satisfied now?"
The redhead didn't bother to answer. He saw Susan's belt-striped body writhing on the bed, and by the expression on her face and the sound of her moans he knew she was out of her head with lust. "You dirty bastard!" he spat. "What did you do to her?"
"I proposed marriage. She accepted, too," Simmons replied tensely. "So butt-out. It's none of your affair. Let's go find the case."
"I ought to break your neck!" Charles hissed, grabbing Simmons' shirt with one hand and drawing him close.
"Now, now," Simmons soothed. "There's no reason for us to be at one another's throats, Charles. I didn't really hurt the girl. Hellfire, she loved being flogged!"
"I'll just bet she did," Charles growled, pushing Simmons away as he drew back his fist.
"Don't be a fool, Charles!" Simmons gasped. "I know the house well! You need me to help find the coins! Have her yourself, if you'd like. Sure, why not? Whip her, fuck her, do whatever you like, so long as you leave her in bondage!"
"You miserable crud!" Charles spat, flinging the butler away.
"Go ahead," Simmons encouraged, backing up. "Have your way with her. I'll go up and keep Reyes busy searching for the case. We won't bother you."
As the butler hurried off, the young chauffeur turned back toward the bed. His prick was already rising, and when he saw the crazed gleam in Susan's eyes it sprang to a thumping erection. He unzipped his fly and took it out, then climbed onto the bed and removed the belt from around Susan's head.
The instant Charles pulled her panties from her mouth, she looked right at his seven-inch pole and moaned, "Give it to me! I want it, Charles! Put your lovely cock in me! Fuck me with it, darling! Do it ... do it before I go crazy!"
He thrust the turgid column of masculinity at her face. "Kiss it! If you want it, kiss it, damn you!"
Without a second's hesitation, Susan lifted her head and covered the end of his glans with her puffy, parted lips, making a loud, wet smack as she kissed his dick. The terrible need within her drove her on. Extending her pink tongue, she licked all over the sleek cockhead and as much of its supporting shaft as she could, the cords standing out in her neck as she strained toward him.
"You filthy slut!" he said, slapping her.
"Yesss!" she yelped, rubbing her face on the undersurface of his thick shaft.
"You maso bitch!" he rasped, hurling himself between her legs and ramming his fat dong all the way into the vulnerable cleft of her sex-slick pussy.
"Yessss!" she squealed with delight. "Ohhh ... oh, yesss! Do it! Do it!"
Charles gritted his teeth and began fucking into her like a wild man. His lust for the loot carried over to his lust for the spread-eagled young woman. He was frustrated at not finding the case of coins, and he set about venting that frustration on Susan's body.
In her present condition, nothing could have pleased her more. His pubis pummeled her loins, hurting her as he hammered his sturdy rod into the slippery furnace of her fluttering tunnel with brutal lunges.
"Harder!" she screeched, digging her heels and shoulders into the mattress. She humped her dripping snatch up to meet his every thrust. "Give it to me! Harder! Harderrr!!!"
The bedsprings creaked and snapped as he increased his efforts. His ass arced steadily, swiftly, driving his blood-bloated prong in and out of her hairy hole with body-jolting force.
"That's it!" she cried, kissing the side of his face again and again. "I love it! Ahhhh ... love it!"
Beads of sweat glistened on the chauffeur's forehead. He shoved his hands under her and cupped the straining cheeks of her butt, squeezing and twisting the soft globes as he socked the meat to her hard and fast.
"Aaagghh, aaggghhh!" she cried, turning her head to the side and biting her lower lip.
Susan's smooth skin shone wetly with a film of sweat. The redhead was fucking her insanely, ravishing her defenseless body. The nylon ropes bit into her wrists and ankles. He had his fingers jammed into the moist valley of her undulating behind, jerking her up to him each time he plunged his throbbing peter into the swollen gash between her legs. It felt like he was trying to tear her in half, beginning with her buttocks. But Susan was so deep into her fit of masochism that she loved every second of it. The pain and pleasure were indistinguishable, and she was getting plenty of both.
He was using her so thoroughly that she couldn't help him screw her any more. All she could do was lie there, moaning and groaning, and take the furious fucking. Her head lolled limply back and forth. Her mouth opened and closed gaspingly as she huffed air in rapid, shallow gulps. Masochistic pleasure rolled over her in great scalding sheets till she couldn't bear it for another instant.
"UNNN ... UNNNN ... AAAGGGHHHH!!!" she groaned, her body turning rigid as she arched upward. The first tremor of her mind-blowing climax swept over her. A shrill scream rent the air as she gave voice to her bliss. Her lovely, upthrust body began quaking violently .Then she heaved a guttural groan and fell back to the bed. "COMING ... OH, GOOD LORD ... I'M COMMIINNGGG ... OHHHH!!!"
And so was Charles.
Her insides went wild, the muscles of her youthful vagina contracting harshly around his twitching cock, vacuuming the semen up from his balls and sucking it greedily from the expanding eye of his ballooning glans.
The orgasmic release of her torturous sexual tension was like nothing the inexperienced girl had ever known before. It seemed as if her soul itself was vibrating along with her genitals, joining in the rapturous relief which the crescendo of her climax brought. Her womb convulsed rhythmically. Her vagina spasmed with a heartbeat-like cadence, clasping and releasing the chauffeur's fat dick as it spewed torrents of hot cum into the depths of her rippling belly.
Susan lay beneath him, shuddering and moaning, writhing and sobbing brokenly, until finally he withdrew and left the room without speaking. She was scarcely aware that he'd gone. Her eyes were clenched tightly shut, her toes curled down. A continuous stream of satisfied sighs escaped her trembling lips. Sperm oozed from the gaping red gash of her vulva and trickled down the crack of her quivering ass. The dark hair of her pubic triangle was soaked with sweat and sexual secretions, plastered to her swollen mons in tight, wet curls which reflected the light glisteningly.
Her body was limp as a dishrag, and her mind was reluctant to return to normal. She could hear the men tearing the upstairs apart as their search for the treasure became more and more frantic. She could also hear Miss Olson's dog howling off in the distance, as if it were keening for the dead.
Idle thoughts drifted languorously through her mind, which seemed almost detached from her body. She wondered if she would live through the night, if the disgusting servants with the nice pricks would find the case of coins. If Simmons really would force her to marry him, if he would hear the dog and kill it. None of it seemed to matter especially, because she was in a state of mild shock and nothing seemed real. It was as if she were having a grotesque dream, but even so, she could hear the magnificent boxer drawing nearer to the house, barking constantly, and she didn't want Simmons to shoot it.
Soon the animal was whining instead of barking, and she could hear it scratching at the French doors which opened into the maid's room, then at her own doors, with the whining becoming louder.
"Poor thing," she said, glancing toward the doors in time to see one of them swing open.
The boxer trotted into the room, his sad eyes searching for his missing mistress. He stopped. His head came up and he sniffed the air. Even before he spotted the well-fucked young woman who was bound helplessly to the bed, his pointed red dick started sliding jerkily from its hairy sheath.
"Woof," he barked, approaching the bed.
"No, Perro!" Susan gasped.
The animal leaped onto the bed and sniffed his way to the sperm-oozing elliptical opening between her wide-splayed legs.
"Woof, woof!" he barked, and licked his chops.
"No, Perro! Oh, nooh ... not you, too!" she wailed, twisting her body in an effort to keep the eager dog from getting to her crotch.
Her movements were extremely limited, however, and her desire to prevent the animal from licking her was nowhere near as strong as his conditioned urge to do so. Perro won the battle easily. Actually, one lick was all it took. His long, hot tongue swept into the crack of her rump and snaked upward through her steaming, hair-ringed hole, scrubbing the supersensitive end of her pleasure button as it passed its way, and Susan sucked in her breath.
"Aaaah!" she sighed, her muscles wilting as she fell back to the bed and lay trembling and docile.
The dog had a feast lapping up the sperm and pussy juice from her messy groin and buttocks, with Susan sighing again and again as the' bestial tongue caught her waning passion and whipped it back up to a feverish pitch. Then the abrasive canine tongue slithered deep into her cum-drenched vagina and began lapping the remains of the two male loads out of her slippery sheath.
"God!" she squealed, forcing her thighs apart and tilting her pelvis to make it easier for the dog to lick all the way inside her. "What a tongue! Ohhh ... mmmm ... lick, you nasty dog! Lick me good! Aaahhh ... oh, shit yessss! Miss Olson was crazy to have left you behind!"
Unlike the first time Perro had forced her to submit to bestiality, Susan didn't fear the animal now. She knew the huge boxer wouldn't hurt her, which was a lot more than she could say for the male servants.
Oh, that's good! she thought, shivering with delight when she felt the dog's tongue sliding around way up in her rippling belly. So damned good! I might as well enjoy it! He's going to do it anyway! I wonder if he'll screw me this time? There's no way I could stop him, short of calling out for help. . , which would bring Simmons and get Perro shot! I don't want him shot! Oh, no! I want him to lick me and lick me and lick me! Lord! I think I could come with him doing it like this!
"More!" she gasped, lifting her head to watch the dog's red tongue bathing over her crotch and into the soft, slick crevice of her dripping cunt. "Deeper, Perro! Go on, baby ... ohhh ... lick deeper! Make me come! You can fuck me, too, if you want to! I don't care any more! God help me, but I don't!"
The sound of her passion-heavy voice brought the boxer's head up from her loins. Susan watched him lick his muzzle clean of her colorless fluid. Her eyes narrowed with lust. A strange smile washed over her face. She knew he was going to mount her and ram his long, slender, superheated red penis into her, and she also knew she wanted him to. Her human womb twitched with anticipation as the seventy-five pound dog crawled atop her and fumbled to penetrate her willing snatch. She lifted her hips, caught the pointed tip of his dick in the hairy ring of her vulva and made a mewling sound of pure pleasure as the animal hunched his lovely canine cock in to the hilt.
"God, God, God!" she puled, her face contorting rapturously as the point of his hot prick jabbed the ultra-sensitive mouth of her uterus.
Once he had it into her, he wrapped his front legs around her torso and began screwing her every bit as hard and fast as he had the first time. His back arched at a fantastic clip, his ass moving faster than any man's ever has, his crimson penis spearing her blood-congested orifice many times per second. And he was licking her tits, to boot, panting and humping and drooling all over her chest.
It was as good as she remembered. Even better this time, because now she knew exactly what she was doing. Her lust-fogged mind was dull and sluggish, but she realized a dog was fucking her. The unnaturalness of it gave her a tremendous thrill, and her mind was functioning well enough so that she knew she wouldn't regret it later.
"Oh, you lovely animal!" she moaned, moving her left tit so his tongue could caress its aching nipple while he hammered his canine cock to her. "Go, Perro! Ahhh ... yes, yes, yes ... ohhhh ... oh, fuck me ... fuck me good!"
Susan closed her eyes and gave herself over to the womb-pricking pleasure of the bestial union. One minute Perro was humping madly away atop the writhing young lady, the next he was gone, and Susan didn't like it one bit. She could hear the boxer yelping halfway across the room. Groaning in protest, she opened her eyes in time to see Reyes sling the dog out onto the veranda and kick its ass to send it on its way.
"You sonofabitch!" she screeched. "Why did you do that? Don't close the door! Let him back in!"
As he shut the French door and locked it, Reyes laughed to himself. Then he turned toward Susan and unbuckled his pants. "I didn't expect to see you throwing it up to the dog, baby."
"Let Perro back in, damn you! I need him!"
"Charles said you were hot as a pistol, but you ... and a dog? Shit, Miss Priss, you must be in bad shape!" He unbuttoned his pants and unzipped his fly as he walked toward the bed.
"Wh-what are you going to do?" she asked, her eyes growing large with interest when she saw his enormous cock.
"Going to fuck you, hot ass, what else?" He kicked his pants and shorts away and approached the bed with his long dick swaying stiffly before him. The hulking Mexican-American gardener climbed on the bed and knelt between Susan's legs, taking his pole in his hand. "You don't need no dog, Susan. This is what you need, ain't it?"
"Yes," she breathed, her gaze riveted to the purplish plum of his sleek glans. "I need it!"
"Where do you need it?" he taunted.
"In my cunt!" she wailed, thrashing about eagerly.
"I'm going to shove it all the way up into that hot little belly of yours, sugar!" he said, lowering himself onto her and wedging the huge dickhead into the quivering folds of Susan's fluted sex hole. "Do you want it?"
"Yes, goddamn you! Shut up and do it!"
The bronze dong had a head almost as big as Susan's fist, and she couldn't help crying out with shocked delight when she felt it pop through her hairy entrance. Then he gave her the rest of the nine-inch monster with one swift thrust. She sucked in her breath raggedly, throwing back her head and shaking all over. His walnut-size nuts swung forward and slapped lewdly into the soft crack of her trembling ass, and she let out her breath in a drawn-out sign of total surrender.
"I've been thinking about you, baby," he said, sliding his prick in and out of her tight, gripping pussy with long, swift jabs, the head of it thumping her sensitive cervix. "Been looking for them coins and thinking about you tied up down here on the bed! Christ, I been dying to fuck you!"
Susan cringed at his choice of words. It reminded her that her grandmother had been murdered, and that she herself might die before this night was over. But she didn't want to think such gruesome thoughts now. Reyes was fucking her, and it was awfully good. Mexican or not, he was the best of the three men. His big cock was twice as good as Charles', and at least ten times better than Simmons'.
"Fuck me!" she moaned, throwing her happy cunt up to him. Their bellies slapped together and he drove her squirming rump back down to the bed, evoking a heartfelt sigh of pleasure from her as the end of his long dong flicked the neck of her uterus. "They all want to fuck me, Jesus! But I'd rather have you! Ohhh ... Oh, Jesus, Jesus ... you're such a good fucker!"
He threw a series of hard, rapid jabs into her. "I'm going to fuck the ass off you, sugar!"
"Yesss!" she cried, working with him, making her hips pump up and down. The muscles in her straining abdomen rippled and jerked. The cords connecting her inner thighs to her body stood out taut and twitching. "Fuck the ass off me, you darling man ... ahhhhh ... fuck it right off meee!"
"Damn right!" he grunted, and started really powering his pole to her.
Reyes was sweating now, too, and his hairy belly made wet slapping sounds as it contacted her glistening abdomen. When he wanted to French kiss her, Susan didn't have the slightest urge to resist. She opened her mouth and let him ram his tongue down her throat. Gurgling blissfully, she sucked his tongue voraciously and hammered her sopping twat up to meet every spine-tingling thrust he gave her.
"Oh, Jesus ... sweet Jesus!" she husked, burying her face in the sweat-dampened crook of his neck. "Do you love me, Jesus?"
"Hell, no," he said, humping on without missing a stroke. "I love to fuck your tight little pussy, baby ... ahhh ... that's all. You got some fine pussy!"
"Then fuck it!" she squealed. "Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it! God, I love your cock! It's so big and hard and ... sooo good! Harder, you sweet man! Give it to me harder ... ohhh ... and faster ... ahhh ... make me come! Now! Oh, God ... Jesus ... NOW ... NOW, DARLING!!!"
"Yeah!" he grunted, increasing the tempo till his gigantic prong was pistoning furiously within the sucking cylinder of her wet-velvet cunt. "Oh, yeah, baby ... YEAH!!!"
Their sweat-soaked stomachs slapped together rapid-fire as they strove toward orgasm with perfect synchronization of motion. The brass bed popped and creaked. The ropes bit into Susan's wrists and ankles, but she was barely aware of the pain it caused. Her breath was coming in shallow, huffing gasps. She moaned constantly, the throaty sounds growing softer and fainter till finally she socked her crotch up and heaved a mournful groan from the depths of her being.
A tremor of flesh-quaking intensity racked her arched body as orgasm thundered through her keyed-up loins. She screamed, and fell limply back to the bed, with the massive Mexican still fucking into her thrashing body like a madman.
His tense buttocks flew up and down, almost as fast as the dog's, and each time the head of his long dong bumped jarringly against her convulsing womb, he let out an animalistic grunt.
Susan had a whole series of orgasms, one following another nonstop, each more soul-rending than the last. She chewed her lip and pulled at her bonds. Her body shuddered and twitched convulsively. Harsh contractions made her vagina grab rhythmically at his plunging dick while her puckered asshole winked incessantly. Her head snapped from side to side, with guttural groans pouring from her mouth.
Then, just when she thought he actually was going to fuck the ass off her, like he'd said, Reyes slammed into her all the way, burying his enormous cock to the hilt in her heaving, sweat-dripping belly, and sent a stream of his scalding white lava gushing geyser-like into the depths of her exploding guts.
She screamed wit the sheer ecstasy of it, then began shuddering violently and sobbing brokenly as he lay atop her grunting and groaning, while, his ballooning cock squirted torrents of hot, thick semen into her. At the last, she was nothing more than a ' mindless blob of quivering female protoplasm. Her cunt gripped suckingly at the huge, cum-spewing prick while she shivered and shook and blubbered incoherently.
When Susan finally regained her senses, Reyes was gone and she was alone in the room. But not for long.
Charles stepped into the doorway and paused. On his handsome face was a strange expression. In his right hand was a long, wicked-looking butcher knife.
"Susan," he said, his voice sounding choked and strained.
The sound of her name brought her face toward him. "Charles!" she gasped, her eyes growing large and frightened as she noticed the odd look on his face and the long, glinting blade of the knife he held.
He stepped unsurely into the room. "I've got to do it," he said, as if he were talking to himself.
Icy fingers of stark terror closed vise-like around Susan's palpitating heart. She watched the red-headed chauffeur walk hesitantly toward her.
Her mouth worked, forming words that wouldn't come out.
His face deadly serious, Charles stopped beside the bed and ran his fingers over the blade of the butcher knife. "I shouldn't have waited so long," he said. "I could've spared you so much misery."
"Ch-Charles?" Susan finally managed to gasp.
"I've got to do it," he muttered. "I've got to!"
"Wh-what h-have you got to d-do?" she stuttered.
"I've got to put an end to your suffering," he said, leaning over her with the knife in his hand.