Chapter 4
"Ice!" the blonde bitch's shrill voice pierced his thoughts as he gripped the table edge and braced himself against it.
"We've got ice," he said, making a spectacular comeback, considering how loud and jarring her voice had been.
"But enough?" she said, drilling him with her relentless little greenish-gold eyes. "You know, you can never have enough ice. Run down to the store and get some."
"Tyne, I ... "
"Be a good girl and do like I say, Mandy," she said, not even bothering to add a little edge of pleading to her voice. "Go on."
Matt felt the surge of hatred rise up in him. Rise up like a fortress of defiance against her cruel, heartless attacks. But it was no use. He knew from past experience. He would give into her again and again. Just like he had in the five summers they had been here together. She always won. Pussy power. Maybe that was it. Or just that she was meaner than he was. Evil-eyed bitch.
Matt, or Mandy, as she was now, backed off into the kitchen and grabbed a light headscarf off the hook near the door. She tied it around her long, flowing black locks and made for the back door.
It was only a block and a half to the filling station and the ice house next to it, but still she resented slaving like this. Devoting her entire life to this little she-bitch of a fucking cocksucking little princess. Dominating little cunt.
She felt the gravel of the road grind under her high heels as she strolled along, quickening her pace.
Again those distant days of their honeymoon tugged at the strings of her memory. That night had been a blitz, a cruel jest, a surreal dream. She had seduced the little boy all right. Well, he wasn't so little, as it turned out.
And she had gotten Mandy in on it, too. That was the name she picked out for him that night. She had also picked out a long, black curly wig. A high fashion tress that curled around his ears and tickled his shoulders.
It also added to the illusion of making him a stunning, curvaceous woman. The type that most men couldn't resist, in any light.
She made him up. She shaved a little patch of chest hair to allow him to wear low cut dresses in public without arousing suspicion. She shaved his legs, his arms, his hands for Christ sake.
And she made him up to accentuate his natural good looks. In a totally feminine and believable way. That was the amazing thing. He looked radiant. Radiant, hot, sultry, sexual. And womanly. That, most of all.
"I think you look better in blue than I do," she said, holding up a pair of midnight blue panties for his inspection. "You put these on."
Mandy held them up, feeling tired all of a sudden. "I don't know if I want to go out with you, Tyne," she said, practicing the voice that his wife had coached him with for the last hour and a half. "I'm tired. Drained."
"What?" she said, shooting one perfectly arched eyebrow up to her hair line. "Of course you do ... us two girls are gonna have a ball tonight, remember?"
"I'm done in, I tell you," she sighed, leaning back onto the dressing table. "Why don't you go alone?"
"Be serious, Girl!" she said, staring into the mirror and adjusting her lipstick. "How often do we two get to go out alone. And pick up a man? Come on, it's gonna be fun."
Mandy felt a gnawing in her gut. A terrible, nauseating wrench. "I can't, I tell you, I can't. I don't like boys."
"Of course you do, Silly," she said, ignoring her pleas, "and what's more, they like you. Heads never fail to turn when you walk by. I've seen it. Okay, so I'm jealous. But it's the truth."
Mandy stood up and grabbed the wig off her head and threw it on the floor. "Try and make me," he said in his booming man's voice.
"Don't force me, Matt," she snarled viciously, "because I would. And you know it."
Matt tensed his fist muscles up automatically. In a fight, any kind of fight, he could pulverize this little ding dong. Grind to hamburger beneath one ramming fist. He had done it men twice her size. But here she sat, queen of the dressing table, queen of all she surveyed, including him.
She held the keys to his reputation in her lap. In that sweet, honey-dipped lap he wanted to bury his head in, even now. The tension in his fists bounced into his throat and clung to the roof of his mouth. It made him surly, ugly and mean, but he couldn't do much about it.
Some things were beyond your control.
Threats? What good would they do? She had the pictures of him. The pictures of him parading around in girl's under clothes. Arching his back, stretching his legs apart and showing his panty crotch. The panty crotch with the insidious, shocking bulge. What had been his downfall? Where had he gone wrong?
"All right, Tyne," he said softly, as he plopped his sagging buns onto the bed. "I give up."
He was licked. Licked before he even started. She had him right where she wanted him.
"I knew you'd see it my way, Baby," she said, grabbing his wig from off the floor where he had tossed it and combing it out with her fingernails.
She brought it over to him and slipped it back onto his head. She patted it down into place and stood back to admire her handiwork.
"There. Just like I like my best friend to look. Come on, now, Mandy. Time to get washed up. Can't keep the young men of Chatham waiting, can we? There's lots of young studs out there just waiting for what we've got to give them."
Mandy, for she had now become Mandy again, stood up and headed toward the bathroom. There would be soap in there. Soap, oil, perfume, powder. Things that Tyne would insist on attending to her with. She would make her up again, dress her up and then start ordering her around. It was incredible. Just incredible.
"Ice house open?" she called to the young, husky station attendant.
"Sure thing, Miss Davidson," the boy called back.
He followed her with his quick eyes as she darted around the corner and into the ladies' room. He would have liked to duck in there with her. She was such a dish! He had had his eye on her since two summers ago when he started working at the gas station. But no luck.
And, unfortunately, she was usually accompanied by that blonde brat of a girl friend of hers. It crossed his mind more than a few times that the two might be lesbians. They always buzzed around together, talking, whispering, giggling close together.
But no, he had always heard that lesbians were ugly, masculine at the least. Not these two. Especially that black-haired chick. She was a real fox. And so nice. Always spoke in a soft, well-modulated voice. Polite.
That other dame was a regular ring-tailed cunt. A she-bear. He couldn't stand her.
"Can I get some change?" the grey-eyed honey pot called from the door of the ladies' room.
Christ, he thought to himself, how embarrassing, she probably wants change for the sanitary napkin machine.
But, no, she didn't. "I need some for the ice machine," she said, "I ran out of the house without it."
She walked over to him and stood there, her hair blowing in the night breeze. He couldn't help looking at her. Such a tall, fucking statue of a woman. And those high, round tits sticking out like that, straining against the thin material of her blouse. Those dynamite well-turned legs. Not a mark or bad curve anywhere. And that sexy, deep voice. It made his bow tie bounce. It made his tonsils jiggle.
"Here," he said, reaching into his own pocket and handing her a pile of change. He forgot to take the bill from her in return until she forced it into his hand.
Then, she turned and sauntered off, swinging those delectable hips from side to side.
Mandy stuck the money in the ice machine and leaned against the front of it, waiting for it to do its thing.
That little filling station attendant reminded her of the first guy they had seduced together. He was young, blonde, sun-tanned. And he was also a hot little stud, at least he was that night.
Decked out in long, slinky gowns they climbed the steps to the restaurant. It was a posh place, frequented by the most established, wealthiest people in Chatham. People who would later become admirers of theirs, come to their parties, invite them to theirs.
But on this night, this first night of their appearance out together as girl friends, nobody knew them. They would soon enough.
The doorman opened the door and let the two woman inside. Women guests didn't normally turn his head, but these two did. The little one was a tight-assed, loud-mouthed blonde. He had seen her type before. Beautiful, but bitchy.
He had never seen anything like the other one. Resplendent in a satiny red slinky full length gown with a slit up it, showing a magnificent pair of smooth, angular legs. Rounded slightly in all the right places.
And so tall. Like a showgirl. Or a high fashion model, which was probably what she was. That face could stop traffic. It was radiant. Glowing, ivory, shining. Great set of tits, too, what he could see of them.
"Table for two?" the head waiter asked, bowing low to admit them into the dimly-lit little club.
"Right," Mandy snapped, hardly looking at him.
It was her way of dealing with functionaries. People she considered beneath her. It was a pattern that was to continue, along with her dominance of him. Her complete takeover of his life that began every June first. The day of the year when his world turned upside down, inside out and he became she.
They turned dozens of heads that night. Men, women, waiters, cooks, drivers, bellhops and big blonde beach boys with bulges in their pants.
They caught their mail all right. He happened to be strolling past their table and Tyne pinched Mandy until she winked at him.
That was all it took. The dye was cast. The guy came over. Introduced himself.
"Ned Barron," he said, slipping a golden hand into Tyne's and bringing it up to his lips.
A continental one. Oh, joy, Mandy thought, just what I wanted. She squirmed uneasily in her seat. She did that a lot the whole time he sat between them.
He was a ladies' man all right. A gigolo. A summer resort stud who spent his evenings wining and dining rich and amorous women on the condition that they would pick up the tab.
Tyne picked it up that night. Picked it up, plunked it on the waiter's tray with a hundred dollar bill and steered the eager little hot rooster right out the door between the two of them.
They wasted no time getting back to the lodge. Mandy stood breathing hard in the hallway while Tyne turned her key in the lock.
"Nightcap?" she said, licking her pouty pink lips and leering at the stud creature.
"Suits me," he said, holding his linen jacket against his shoulders, cape-style. European men could be so swank, especially when they came from Des Moines, like this one did.
The three of them chatted another half hour or so over a brandy, a couple of cigars, another brandy.
Then, Tyne grew restless. Anxious. Hot. She lowered the strap on her evening gown and leaned over toward Ned. "Mind if I slip into something more comfortable?"
Christ, Mandy thought. He couldn't believe she was using that old line. She hadn't even used it with him.
Suddenly Mandy knew she couldn't go through with it. Whatever 'it' was going to be. She just couldn't. She considered turning herself in. Giving herself up to her captor. The cruel blonde one he had married in a weak moment.
He rushed in to the bathroom where she had gone to change,
"I can't do it," she whispered as soon as the door slammed shut behind her. "I can't go through with this. It's insane. I'm your husband."
"Shut up, Mandy," the blonde tigress snapped, "shut up or I'll smear your name across the sports pages of the world. You know I will."
"Then, you'll have to, Bitch," she said back, hearing how ridiculous she sounded, knowing that she didn't mean what she was saying, trying to find another way to work this out.
Tyne stood there with one leg around her tight thrusting hip and one toe dug hard into the carpet. She had her gown off and Mandy could see the familiar protrusions of her ample tit mounds. Those luscious bitable bits of hot, fleshy goodness. But she couldn't think about that now. She mustn't.
"You're so stupid, Mandy," she said cool as a cucumber. "So rank. You don't even know what's gonna go on out there and already you're pushing the panic button."
Mandy bit down her lip and let Tyne's words pierce her skull. She was right. She didn't know.
"You like to watch yourself, don't you?" the little lascivious grin crept across her face as she went on, "You like to get off on yourself in front of a mirror, parading around, don't you?"
Mandy felt herself nodding, as though a puppeteer were working her head.
"Well, think how much fun it will be if another man gets to watch you? Won't it be a really good gimmick to trick him for a while? Well let him in the truth later, soon enough. Nothing's gonna happen. Besides, the little stud has been fucking old dowagers with big diamonds all summer. Fucking them and taking their money. He's got one coming to him. Don't you think?"
Mandy wasn't thinking at all. That was the problem. But the idea of teasing this guy, while dressed as a seductive, hot, sexy lady, that appealed to him. To his vanity.
The vanity Tyne was banking on at that very moment. The vanity that would help her lure him to his fall. She had set everything so perfect for this scene. So many plans had gone into it. She and Ned had worked it all out rather well, she thought. And now, for the big payoff.
Okay, so it was wicked of her, cruel to want to get her husband right where she wanted him. But it had been fun, too. Fun plotting the whole trap. Setting it. Buying the bait. That had been Ned Barron. Greasy hunk of a little con man.
She had met him in the city, at her local bar one afternoon when she was alone. She found out he was a professional, stud, given to weight lifting and she started to chart her revenge. Revenge? Ha! Wish-fulfillment was more like it.
Soon she would have that big, hairy giant eating out of her hand. And that's not all he would be eating out of.
"Look," she said again as he gazed at the bathroom fixtures, "you don't have to do anything but tease him. That's all I want. Come on, Sugar, I just want to see you tease him. Then, we'll let him go. Like teasing a stray puppy. It'll be fun."
He wasn't budging.
"It'll get me good and hot watching that. Watching you parade around in front of him. Watching him slobber over you. We'll open the door after, kick him out and have ourselves a hot, wet old time. Come on, be a sport, Mandy."
The dejected friend looked up at her and blinked her big, thick lashes.
"Okay, Tyne," she said, gathering her skirt up and lifting herself off the edge of the bathtub where she had been sitting, "your honeymoon."
"You're a doll, Babes," the little blonde purred, "a living doll."
Then, the teasing began in earnest. They both walked out, Mandy in her clinging evening gown, Tyne wrapped in velour with cleavage, lots of cleavage.
"Two ladies I have met before," Ned said, reclining like a Roman emperor on the king size bed. "And two I'm hoping to get to know very well before the evening is over."
Ned Barron had been in threesomes before. In fact, he was beginning to tire of them. But this would be different. Maybe even surprising. He felt the wicked, thick tool of his trade, his gigolo's best friend twitch uncomfortably beneath his tight briefs. He might not even have to fake it tonight.
That blonde! What an operator. He met her in a bar and five minutes later, she was making arrangements with him that made his eyes bulge out.
He eyed the long, svelte Amazon standing beside her. Good thing he had kept himself in peak physical condition. He would need all his strength to subdue this guy. He was built like a brick wall. Plus, there was the element of surprise. He wasn't expecting what was about to happen.
Blondie had told him he was a hockey player. Poor guy. He was about to lose a game. Maybe an entire season. Ned had seen men dress as women before. But not many looked as good as this one. Stunning, a real fox. Yeah, it was gonna be fun all right. And then there was the money. The busty blonde had paid him plenty for this caper. And there was more coming after the deed was done.
Sure he was hot. He was getting a bone on just thinking about how the evening would unravel. Which reminded him, the blonde had told him where the rope was. He hoped to hell she had her head screwed on right and remembered to put it there. Because if she didn't, the two of them could end up very bruised. Very bruised and very sorry.
"Mandy's a model," Tyne said, out of nowhere. "High fashion. Show him, Honey."
Mandy stood up and put her hands on her hips. She eyed the two on the bed suspiciously. What the hell did they want to see, anyway? What were they expecting?
"Give him your runway walk, Baby," Tyne said, leaning back and brushing her hind end against the stud's thigh.
"I don't meet many models," Ned lied through his teeth, "I'd like to see what they do."
Mandy twitched her nose up and down a moment. The excitation had begun. The idea of sauntering around in front of this cunt-hungry gigolo gave her prick palpitations.
If only she hadn't been so fucking vain. Matt wasn't like this. Matt was steady, earnest, quiet, a man of simple tastes. But Mandy was a fucking princess, just like her friend, Tyne. A princess and a show-off.
She tossed her head around and pivoted her hips so that her back was to them. Then she walked, sauntered, sashayed away from them. She stuck one hand on a slightly out turned hip and held the other one down, swinging freely. She strolled back, taking her time as she did so, staring right at the two audience members, never darting her gaze.
The effect was totally believable. Totally mesmerizing. Dynamic. Intoxicating. Ned gritted his teeth to keep his cock from coming up full force and banging against his belt buckle. "What do you think of that?" Tyne said, growling low in her little vixen's throat.
"That's quite remarkable," Ned said, crossing one alligator shoe over the other and leaning back on the headboard. He tried not to get too comfortable. There was work to be done here tonight, after all. This wasn't his vacation, it was theirs.
He eyed the long, sculpted legs of the she-male. What an illusion! They were more shapely than those of most girls. And longer, more graceful. Such tiny chiseled ankles! He would have liked to ...
The little blonde's caustic tones broke his thoughts.
"I'm horny as a toad, watching you," Tyne gurgled from the safety of the bed spread. She leaned further into where Ned was sitting and slid one hand down to hold his thigh firmer.
"Maybe you'd like to see more?" Mandy said, her ego growing by leaps and bounds. "I bet you could learn something."
"Have already," Ned said, grinning his vapid beach boy smile.
Mandy bent over and lifted the hem of her gown up slowly, seductively until it slithered up past her calf, her knee, her thigh. Then, she plopped one foot on the footstool, digging her high heel into the leather covering and exposed one black garter, not to mention a creamy piece of upper thigh under it.
She unhooked her garter and let the thing fly wildly. Then, she did the same with the other garter so that the stocking was free. Then, with a deft hand, she began unrolling it down, down, painstakingly slow.
As her luscious white thighs came into view, her bare smooth flanks, Ned had to get a grip on himself. This was the real thing. The blonde must have been putting him on. This couldn't possibly be her husband. He must be a girlfriend, a sister, but for sure he had to be a woman. No man could possibly have such sensual, electric legs. He couldn't take his eyes off them.
His attention was diverted by the little blonde slut. She had found his bulge. She had found it and she was pressing her hand into it.
The tall black-haired Amazon continued her little strip-tease. Ned watched. Watched and worried a little. This was not going to be easy. But at the moment, it sure was pleasant.
Mandy lifted the rolled up stocking off the tip of her toe. She threw it out like a streamer and let it drift to the carpet. Then, she drew her other leg up and kicked her high heel off. It hit the ground with a thud as she stuck her long leg out the slit of her gown.
Ned held his breath as she found the garter hook and took what seemed like twenty minutes to unhook that thing. Those graceful hands. Those graceful, sculpted hands and red, wicked looking fingernails. They had to belong to a woman. They had to. "Ever see legs like that?" Tyne said, enjoying every second of the jest. "On anybody?"
Mandy preened with excitement. She loved the admiration she was getting from these two. Always loved admiration from men and women whenever she was dressed like this. It went right to her head. And it went right to her cock.
She felt the huge tool throbbing against the thin nylon panel of her panties, straining against its smooth, silken cage. Showing off. Just like she was doing right now. Begging to be admired, stroked, approved of.
She flipped the stocking down, roll over roll, until her bare leg gleamed under the pink light of the bedroom. She was on display all right. For all eyes to see. And she loved it. Her cock loved it. What a scene!
She yanked her stocking off the end of the toe and watched as it floated onto the bed. The bed where she now looked for the first time since she had begun to disrobe. Disrobe like a strip tease queen.
There was her wife. There was that toothy little fuck head of a stud. Together. He was hard. That Mandy had no trouble recognizing. The bulge in his pants was as thick as a hockey stick. It shot upward toward his waist, creating a huge long mound in his tight pants.
His wife was unzipping his pants to let it out at that very moment.
"Okay," Mandy said, sitting down and crossing her voluptuous legs, one over the other. She felt her cock with them as she did so. That cock that sat firmly, squarely up there between her legs. Riding up inside its tiny nylon net.
She figured the last card of the jest had been played. And she didn't like the fact that Tyne was unzipping that gigolo's pants. Or the fact that she was doing it so fucking eagerly. "Think that's enough, Tyne," she said calmly. "Let's let Romeo go home now. We've had our fun with him."
"Shucks," the blonde stud snapped back, "I was hoping the party had just begun. I really like the scenery and the guests. Why don't you come over here and kiss me while your girl friend does whatever it is she plans to do with my cock. There's enough here for both of you if ... "
"No way, Fella," Mandy groaned. Things were starting to get sticky. This is what she had been afraid of.
"Aw come on," Ned said confidently, "at least get comfortable and watch what your girlfriend is gonna do."
Mandy's neck hair bristled as she saw what Tyne was about to do.
She was fumbling around for the blonde stud's cock. Reaching her hand into his briefs and fingering his thick dick with all her fingers. All ten of them.
Maybe she wouldn't have ten left by the time she got through with her! Mandy stood up and flew to the bed just as Tyne was lifting the long, incredibly huge cock pole out of its stretch nylon briefs.
"That's enough, Hon," she said to Tyne, grabbing her wrist. The wrist of the hand that held that schlong. She had intercepted her and the look on Tyne's face showed she didn't like it one bit.
"I don't think so," the blonde said, evil-eyed back to her. "Show her, Ned."
Ned his powerful hand down under the bed, to the place where Tyne had assured him the equipment would be kept. His fingers surrounded the hard leather butt end of the whip. He brought it up, out and snapped it down as hard as he could.
"Back off, Sister," he said, sounding pretty sure of himself and with good reason to be.
"What the hell is this?" Mandy said, feeling like little Red Riding Hood who'd just found out there were wolves in the forest.
"I planned a little surprise for us, Hon," Tyne said, stroking the stud's cock and making it grow thick, round, high and harder, "I hope you like it."
"I don't much care for surprises," Mandy said, eyeing the tip of the bullwhip. What the hell was going on here, she wondered.
Without thinking and reacting to her gut instinct, Mandy lunged at the man with the whip. He was fast, though, Practiced and fast. He lifted it up high and snapped it out in her direction. She felt the tongue of it bite into the flesh of her neck. It must have drawn blood. It stung terribly.
"God," she said, more in annoyance than pain. This was gonna be ugly. But she was strong, muscles and certainly she had her back up enough for a fight. But would it be a fair one?
Again she lunged toward the blonde demon, straight toward his tanned neck. And again, he hauled his whip up sharp and circled her waist with it. Instinctively, she gripped it with her huge fists and tried to pull it away, but it stuck fast.
The man was off the bed now, his hard on sticking obscenely out into the air, pointing up like the needle of a compass. He gripped the handle of the whip and steered the surprised Mandy over the edge of the bed.
She spilled out on the bedspread, still fighting to get the thick whip off from around her waist. The damned thing was biting into her flesh so hard, she could barely draw in a breath.
There wasn't a moment to lose. Tyne jumped up and grabbed one of her feet. That would be easier than trying to fight those massive, muscled arms. Ned grabbed an arm and pressed down on it. From the vantage point of standing over her, he was able to press her arm down. Without that added advantage, though, he would have found it nearly impossible.
She was a powerfully built woman. He picked up the rope that Tyne threw him and began to tie the frightened creature's wrist to the bed post. She brought her other hand over and pounded his back once so hard he went down, spilling over on top of her. They struggled, but he regained his hold on her.
Then, once her right wrist had been anchored, he dove for her left before she could nail him with it. He needed the little blonde to help hold him down, but after much work and sweat, they managed.
"God damn!" she cried, the heat of rage spilling out of every pore of her body, "God damn you two."
He brought his hips up high and thrust them hard against the mattress. Ned knew they would have to hurry and finish tying him down or he would crack the bed frame.
They tied his legs down, spread eagle as fast as they could attend to it. A stout rope helped, but the two of them had the advantage of pain. Surprise and pain.
The ropes must have dug into his flesh a full inch. Creating horrible pain. And the shock, the look of surprise on Mandy's face. This was not what she expected.
"All right you two," Mandy said, finally, trying to catch her breath. "You've had your fun, now cut it out."
"You've got it all wrong, Sweet Stuff," Tyne said, pulling the rope around Mandy's ankle in tighter, "We're gonna have our fun now."
Mandy winced. It was about all she could do. That and scream for the management. But that would have created a scene. One she would rather not deal with.
The thick rope dug into her skin. She could see the reddened places around them as they wound around her wrists, her ankles. And that bullwhip was gonna slice her in two if somebody didn't loosen it. But she wasn't going to whine. She had been stupid and now these two could do most anything they wanted to her.
Ned gripped the handle of the bullwhip in his huge, tanned hands and slipped it off her waist. That tiny, lithe little waist. He brought it up and gave it a good crack, within an inch of Mandy's nose.
"That's it," Tyne growled, "keep the little bitch in line."
Mandy felt her eyes burn, her head burn, her stomach lurch forward as though someone had put on a brake too hard inside her. She closed her eyes, she tried to turn her head away, to forget these two were in the room with her.
"Uh," Ned's slow, deliberate voice intoned, "I wouldn't look away if I were you."
As if to punctuate his statement, he snapped the huge whip again and brought it down across Mandy's white, heaving breastbone. She heard the snap and then, she felt the blow. The whip tip made a long red line, a crimson welt, right in the middle of her cleavage. It hurt. It was humiliating.
She slowly turned her head back and looked at the two with utter hostility.
"Come on, Baby," Tyne began to coo and make over him, twirling his hair around between her teasing fingers.
"Let's get going," Ned said. This charade was engrossing, but it was time to get down to business.
"Let me have another look at that stud cane of yours," she said, pulling his tie up and loosening it from his collar.
She opened his fly easily with her hands by parting the already sagging zipper and reached in. She hooked her hot hand around his savage big meat stick and whirled it out. Then she got down on her knees, she got down on the carpet and started to fondle it with abandon. To get it stiff, plump and ready.
The man helped her out of her robe. He pulled it down off her shoulders and untied the sash. It slid off her and down onto the floor. Mandy had to admit, even from here and tied up like a pig about to be slaughtered, the girl had a fantastic body.
She was wearing a hot set of lavender panties, low cut, sheer, minimally useful. Her bra was nothing more than a set of low-lying cups to display her knockers. They rose up heavenward and hot, round and ready. The nipples could be seen above the lace trim of the material. Those ruddy, rippling tulips, that looked like caps set down on her tits to cover the ends. Sheer, dark nylons fastened to a tiny garter belt and that insane little ankle bracelet. That gold ankle bracelet, the one she had gotten from her husband on their wedding night.
Now, less than three days later, she was holding another man's cock in her hands. Holding it, loving it, patting it, massaging it, about to put her mouth down on it and give it a suck.
Mandy's whole face burned hot and vile. She was getting a sour taste in her mouth, a bitter, wretched taste. Here was the depth of degradation. After all. Here she was lying spread eagle and tied up tight, in pain from the scratching the whip had given her, helpless, really. And watching Tyne, the woman he loved, giving head to a stranger.
And that's what she was doing. No mistake. He watched as she tickled the man's thick, hanging balls. She was so good at that. She stuck his cock down inside in the light, but his tip was buried in the valley between her tits. She was thrusting her hips hard out to receive it. To get it wet, hot, firm, ready.
That woman was such a fucking little pro. Always had been. Such a wormy, white scheming little vixen. And he had fallen right into the trap. He would wring her neck. That's what he would do. First chance he got. He would wring the fucking little bitch's neck.
"Harder," the stud said, his cock growing to mammoth proportions. Tyne squeezed the stud's balls between her fingers, wringing them from right to left, then back and forth, around and around. She was milking them like a farm girl milks a cow's udder.
It was an obscene, ugly sight. But now, Mandy couldn't look away. She was drawn to the spectacle. Trapped by it. Entrapped in it. It was a horror movie and she was the audience and the star. They were performing it for her, to punish her, why?
Just then, Tyne stuck her tongue out. That savage, double-edged tongue of here. With one side, she gave hot, tantalizing head. With the other, she destroyed people.
"Oh, suck that dick," the stud said, bringing his hands around behind his butt and gripping his ass mounds under the white linen of his pants.
It looked like Tyne was just about to do that. She dipped her tongue down in the man's cock slit and dabbed at his clear pre-cum, filling the knob hole to brim full.
She worked it around, around his mighty cock dome, spreading it out like butter with her butter knife tongue. Down, down the length of his man shaft and around and over the balls. What an operator!
Mandy's cock basket had begun to respond to the view. The old steam had begun to start up. Vapors of heat and arousal encircled the end of the thick prick lying coiled up in wait, in readiness.
"Nice mouth, Chick," the jaded blonde stud let out as he saw his cock disappear down the sucking bitch's throat.
He loved to watch women giving him head. And this was a young woman, unlike the usual older grande dames he was paid to sleep with. It was a hot scene, no doubt about it. But there was more here than just this lascivious little blonde to think about.
He eyed the spread eagle Amazon on the bedspread. One hot dish! He suddenly became aware of the fact that he wanted her, too. Wanted his lips touching hers as he shot his load.
The idea played havoc with his head. He couldn't stop dwelling on it. It was dwelling on him. That sensual red mouth of hers, those high, heaving breasts, that perfectly articulated nose, mysterious eyes. And those legs, those long, winding wrappers he wanted to be crushed by.
"Stop a sec, Doll," he said, brushing his hair out of his eyes, "let's move over and let Dark Eyes in on the action."
"Why not?" Tyne said, wiping the cock juice off her mouth. Her cunt was blistering with arousal. She thought more might be fun, was willing to try anything to humiliate her friend. Anything.
The two moved over closer to the bed. Mandy writhed in discomfort. What the hell were they going to do?
Ned sat down on the bed and leaned over to her. Leaned his surly, handsome, beach boy face over to her and parted his lips to speak. Mandy held her breath, not daring to let her heart beat.
"Let me tongue you while I'm getting this thing sucked, Baby," he said. He knew by now, without a shadow of doubt in his head, that this was a woman, it had to be. And he was going to get a piece of her, one way or the other.
"No!" Mandy shouted, tossing her curly hair around, "make him stop, Tyne." Mandy looked over to see Tyne standing with the bull whip in her hands. Standing with it poised above her head and ready to strike. She brought it down with a thick.
A wily sting. The strap lashed into his groin, right in the cock basket.
"Oh, God!" he cried as the pain coursed through his body. "You fucking bitch."
At that moment, he knew what he had on his hands. A bitch, a she-devil, a vixen who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. A scheming, surly little witch. And she belonged to him. Him who was at this moment a her.
Mandy felt the stubble of Ned's thick, short beard graze against her face. She felt his hard hand part her slackened, shocked jaw. She felt his tongue poke, press, lead forth down into her mouth. Her startled, violated mouth.
Their oral juices combined. Mandy's tongue rolled over and under the blonde's tongue. Her teeth gnashed his. Their lips tore at each other. She tossed her head and slammed it down into the mattress. Only to have it brought back up again by Ned's hand and Tyne's insatiable whip.
"Suck, bitch," Ned ordered.
The blonde crawled over the bed, dragging her whip along with her. She crawled over the body of Mandy and onto Ned's thrusting, flailing cock head. She planted her mouth down and sucked it hard. Dug her whole face.
Sucked and spat. In and out. Out and in. The full length of his hot, charged up prick.
Mandy could hear her, see her as she drew her lips off the end of it. Then, again, Ned's whole face invaded hers, poked its way up into her eyesight and insisted itself down, down into her ruby red mouth.
Ned Barron felt his cock chugging, humping, thumping and then, when he could no longer control it, shooting. Blasting out the tip with a thick, white arc of good old reliable come cream.
Mandy wriggled her mouth away from his as best she could. She felt the man come, felt his vibrations as he shot his load of jism into Tyne's eager, waiting mouth socket.
His cock was erect. Massively rock hard. So hard he could pound nails with it.
Tyne wasted no time completing the picture. She bounced up, jumped down on the place in between Mandy's legs and lifted her skirt high, high up.
Ned shook his head. He regained his breath and shook his head. What the hell was this bitch and her girl friend gonna do now?
"Okay," he said, even as Tyne was rubbing Mandy's inner thighs and arching her back at her so hard her tits were popping out of their bra brace. "Tell me this is not your old man. I been around a little bit, Lady, so there's no sense bull shitting me. This is a dame," he said, pointing to Mandy, "isn't it?"
Tyne flashed him a smile and wormed her hands up to her husband's giant, throbbing cock. The cock that was nearly busting the seams of his little black panties. The cock that was rubbing hard against them, so hard now it was creating enough friction to start a brush fire.
"See for yourself," she said, proudly lifting back the flap of Mandy's skirt up over the unseemly bulge. She let the material flop down onto Mandy's waist and expose his man basket.
That huge, hairy monster twisted up inside its sheer black panty cage.
"Christ!" Ned said, staring down at the cock even larger, more thick than his own. "Let me out of here."
He flew toward the door, grabbing at his cock, trying to stuff it back in his pants as he did so. He banged the door open and staggered out.
Tyne threw her head back and let out a wild cacophony of laughter.
"See, Hon?" she said, bringing both her hands down onto her husband's tormented cock and squeezing it hard, "I told you we'd ditch him when the time was right."
Then the little blonde temptress, the hot kitten with the black bullwhip had climbed up on top of her he-man husband, ripped his panties to shreds with her teeth and fucked the living daylights out of him.