Chapter 6
Maureen scrambled off the bed, leaving Liz with the musky taste of wet cunt still on her lips. The redhead went to the foot of the bed and loosened the length of chain that bound their stunned captive's left ankle to the leg of the bed.
Paul Morgan watched -- not directly, but on the bank of four color TV screens set in the wall. That gave him a sense of distance and detachment, like watching some momentus event on the six o'clock news. He felt some sympathy for the teary-eyed young teacher... as one does for the victims of floods, fires and earthquakes. But seeing it on TV, he did not feel personally involved, even when he saw his own leering grin fill one of the screens.
Liz breathed a sigh of hope when the chain went slack for a moment. She prayed they were letting her go, but then Maureen pulled on heavy-linked chain and bent Liz's leg up over the bed.
"Ungh?" she groaned. Maureen chuckled softly, secured the chain and went around to the other side of the bed, scampering like a happy child at play. Liz thought she would never understand these two. They had wealth beyond the wildest dreams of most people... why did they share such a crazed need for perversion?
Maureen tugged the other chain to the head of the bed so that Liz was bent double, lying on her back with fingers now able to touch her toes. The cold shackles chafed hard against her tender flesh. Pain like the cut of a dull knife ran through her long limbs.
Her knees pressed on her heaving tits and tingled her nipples when Liz squirmed uncomfortably. The clanking chains spread both her arms and legs over her head, splaying her crotch and lifting her trim ass off the mattress.
"She's almost ready for you, dear," Maureen told Paul with a smile.
Paul turned to her and said, "What an adoring wife you are, preparing such a wonderful treat for me. Virgin asshole!"
"Giving you pleasure is my greatest pleasure," she replied. They hugged and kissed at the foot of the bed. Liz watched in dizzy dismay, finding it hard to breathe with knees pressed down on her chest. And having almost drowned that morning, lack of breath was her greatest fear in this world. No, it was only the second worst. Liz was also thinking she'd lost Long John Sylver forever.
If only you'd been more patient, a silent voice raged inside her skull. If you hadn't given him an ultimatum, you'd be with John now... not with a pair of depraved lovers who seemed to delight in her distress.
"I don't think her ass is quite ready for your cock, darling," Maureen said like a fawning servant girl. "Let me prepare her for you."
"All right," he allowed. "But hurry! Just looking at her cute little ass makes me hot"
"Yes, I can see that. What a magnificent boner you have for her!"
"I'll have one just as good for you later, my sweet." Paul kissed her again, fondling one breast and squeezing her ripely humped pussy mound with the other hand.
Liz felt her jaw tense and wanted to scream, Stop it! Their loving couple charade made her sick. Maureen purred, "Hhhmmm, I'll be ready... but first I want to watch you with her." She climbed up at the foot of the bed, down on her knees and looking between the long, shapely legs pulled over Liz Randolph's tossing head.
"Don't look so sad, Liz. Paul is a fabulous ass fucker."
"Then you take him! Let me go!" Liz wanted nothing more than to get off of their yacht, even if that meant jumping overboard in the dark of the night... even if it meant she would never see John Sylver again.
Her heart and her strained joints all ached, throbbing with dull pain and the tension of shivering fear and disgust. Maureen grinned at her and bowed her head down to plant an almost shy, tentative little kiss in the crack of her ass.
"Aaaggghhh!" Liz howled, twisting and jerking and clanking her chains. For some reason, her ass seemed more private and personal than her pussy. It was tender, and not something another person should touch. Certainly not kiss! She began to wonder if there was any end to their depravity.
Maureen smacked her lips and said, "Relax... you'll learn to like it. I know you will!"
"Never!" Liz snarled. "I hate you. I hate him. I hate everyone on, and everything about this floating madhouse!"
The redhead dropped her lips and kissed Liz's cringing asshole again, teasing around the tightly puckered rim with the tip of her tongue. "You'd like it if John kissed your cute little ass and teased with his tongue like this -- "
"Unnngh! No! He's the worst! Leaving me for that girl!"
"That girl is my sister," Maureen said sternly, "and she's more a woman than you'll ever be. She fucks like a mink and doesn't make demands."
Liz began to sob in deep remorse, wondering how all her romantic daydreams could have gone so wrong. Maureen was kissing her pussy now, stirring up slick honey with her tongue and dragging it down to wet the tightly puckered rim of the teacher's ass.
Paul watched the whole process on TV, sitting at the foot of the bed with his back to them both. He had a four-sided view that way -- cunt licking and ass teasing seen from left, right, above and below.
Silvery beads of sweat dotted his brow. Morgan was anxious, fevered with anticipation. His cock throbbed with lusty blood that made its veins bulge. It was like being a pirate ship captain. He had his dutiful wench and his gorgeous, unwilling captive in irons. And any day now, a fortune in gold to go with it.
He watched four different views of his wife's annointing the young teacher's ass for him with slick honey and thought few men ever enjoy that kind of adoration. Paul needed that sense of power. He had inherited the vast fortune that let him indulge all his wildest desires. The stocks, bonds and other investments were all managed by Swiss bank. He did nothing, really, but think up new ways to spend the proceeds... and spend his time devising new forms of sexual diversion.
Liz squealed and groaned, not because Maureen's slathering tongue brought her pain, but because the annoying tingle that spread from the rim of her ass was so intense. She was terribly afraid Maureen was right -- that they would make her like being sodomized. That they would turn her into a shameless wanton obsessed with obscene desires.
She clenched her jaw and cried, "Nnnooo! I won't give in. I won't let you make me enjoy this!"
Paul and Maureen both laughed, and the redhead gave Liz another languid swipe with her tongue. He grabbed his wife by the hair and pulled her away. "That's enough," he said. "If she's that upset, she's ready!"
Maureen squawked a faint sound of protest, but Paul hurled her off the bed. He said, "Watch, bitch! And get your own asshole hot. You're next. I'm into backsiding both of my lovelies tonight!"
He leaned forward on his knees and did with his bulging cockhead what Maureen had been doing with her tongue, lathering hot fuck honey around Liz's pussy slit and swiping it down to the rim of her asshole.
The young teacher shivered and squirmed with every stroke, tormented by the way her faithless body responded to obscene stimulation. Wrenching waves of pleasure spread wider than the moist trail of simmering sex juices being daubed from her cunt to her ass.
Liz felt the lewd tingle of anticipation in her fingers and toes. The taut, purple-rose colored rim of her ass tensed and surged. Then Paul pressed his bulbous cock knob deep into the crack.
She gulped and cried, "NO!" but her faithless flesh surrendered itself, relaxing and pulling with distraught desire. His cock started into her and spread shocks of hot pain worse than when her cherry was torn.
It was like the narrow, seething tunnel of her ass had a thousand cherries -- one every small fraction of an inch or so. The rings of muscle were all meant to push outward and expell waste from her bowels, but now their strength and natural rhythm worked in reverse. Her clinging butthole rippled and surged to suck his cock in.
When she tossed her head to the side in a swirl of silky dark hair, Liz could see herself on TV. But not part of herself she would have recognized normally. What she saw was four different views of her asshole, and that was something she'd never seen before -- something she never expected to see with a man's big cock steadily boring in.
The strangeness of it all made her skin tingle and glaze with warm sweat. She gasped and she moaned, wincing eyes shut so she would not have to watch. But some eerie fascination kept springing her eyes back open. Liz stared mute with her mouth gaping and watched Paul Morgan root his cock to the hilt in her clinging hole.
Pain burned deep and spread in depths of her crotch like the rings of ripples when a stone drops into a tranquil pond. She cried, "Oooh, God... it hurts. It hurts so good, I don't want you to stop! Fuck me, Paul! Fuck my ass! Make it hurt even more!"
Liz felt so perverted that she begged to be punished. In the last dark corner of her mind still able to function normally she thought torment might end her obscene addiction. When Paul began pumping his thick hot prick in and out, she wailed, "Faster! Ungh! Yes, run it deep! Fuck me hard, you monster! Hard as you can!"
Maureen sat in a chair and squiggled out of her split-crotch panties, fingering sleek oils from her pussy to ass. She gasped for breath, huffing like a steam engine. Paul's ass spearing cock looked to be eighteen inches long in the four close-ups flashed on the bank of TV screens. She ached to feel the real thing inside her and wished it was really that long.
The teacher turned martyr would have sworn that it was. She had never felt such an outrageous strain -- not even when John fucked her hard on the bed. John... that selfish bastard, taking her cherry and then taking his pleasure with an adoring young teen. She wished now that he was watching.
Paul strived for variety with his plunging dick thrusts. He slanted left one time, right the next. He lunged forward to plow the floor of her ass tube and then angled back to tingle the roof.
Liz responded with gasps and moans that varied with the way his cock drilled in. And despite the pain of being bent double, she began to writhe her ass opposite to his sinking thrusts. She arched and lifted up when he slanted down. She ground her ass cheeks into the mattress to sharpen the angle when he slanted down.
She swayed to the left when he went to the right, then wiggled her ass the other way. It all intensified his pleasure and her pain. But Liz saw pain as her only salvation. If ass fucking became an unbearable agony she would never be tempted to do it again.
Grunts of anguish burst from her lips. Her dazzled eyes fluttered wide but did not see. She babbled like a woman obsessed. "Fuck me!" she kept screaming. "Fuck my ass raw. I don't want to sit down for a week!"
Maureen giggled and said, "I knew she'd like it, Paul! Ream her ass. Ream her really good!"
"Grungh!" he groaned. "My God, I'm giving her all I've got! And the beautiful bitch still begs for more!"
"I want you to kill me," she cried. "Fuck me to death!"
Paul did his damndest to delight her depraved desires. He arched high and rammed down hard, twisting his cock in with all his might. For one frightening moment he thought he had fucked the life out of her. Liz stopped breathing and her face turned white as a sheet.
She felt her mind start to rise in a dizzying spiral, almost as though her spirit had left her body. Liz got a creepy feeling and thought, That's it. I've died and I'm going to heaven.
But orgasm is as close to heaven's eternal bliss as she got. She gasped sharply when the spasms began in her ass and spread to her pussy walls. Both tunnels of seething hot flesh clenched and pulsed with the frenzied contractions of climax.
Her desire to be pained and punished exploded into a shrill scream of joy and frustration. The powerful surges of pleasure made her eyes bulge and her mouth gape. Her ass felt battered and bruised, but all her heated fuck muscles kept clenching and straining in the exquisite torment of delight so intense that it caused pain.
Liz felt her breath choke and burn as the grinding spasms drained strength from the rest of her body. She felt lost in a fog of rapture, consumed by an ecstatic upheaval of emotion. Passion she could not have imagined erupted from the depths of her soul. She gave her writhing ass completely to Paul, and he took it with deeply satisfied grunts, roaring when his cock fired.
Silver-white cum jetted into her fiery hole in spurts so hot she expected to watch steam rise from her asshole. Liz felt the spread of liquid heat that made his cock glide more smoothly and she moaned all the time it took Paul to fuck his balls dry.
She fell limp beneath him, breathless and blind in eerie bliss. Liz would never know exactly what happened next. It was like drowning -- that strange sensation of drifting off. She awoke slouched in the chair where Maureen had been watching and wetting her own ripe ass.
Now she was on the bed, shackled as Liz had been with legs pulled up over her head... ass raised and crotch spread. The first clear vision Liz got was the bank of TV screens. Still dazed, she thought it was her ass Paul Morgan's cock burrowed into. Her tightly puckered rim still quivered with lingering aftershocks, and that enhanced the illusion.
A moment later, Liz realized she had been released, cast aside like an unwanted toy. She blinked and rubbed her wrists where the steel shackles had chafed her soft skin. When her mind cleared, she struggled to stand up and found her knees still weak.
Neither Paul nor Maureen seemed to notice her feeble efforts at first. They were fucking and murmuring love words like a young couple on their wedding night. Liz sadly shook her head and staggered to the door.
She stood outside in the hall for a moment, gasping to catch her breath. It was dark in the middle of the night and she was stark naked. Liz wandered out on the deck, avoiding the bar with that window in the floor that would have made her watch John Sylver with Shelly.
That was the last thing she wanted to see now. He could have her for all she cared. Liz only wanted to get away -- as far and as fast as she could. Chilled by a cold breeze off the sea, she walked to the stern of the boat in the moonlight, so lost in thought that she moved like a ghost.
She found her diving gear on the deck, still damp and now icy cold. But she began pulling on the wet suit. The clammy chill seemed to sharpen her senses. The boat was anchored in a cove no more than thirty yards from the shore.
Fully dressed with fins, snorkel and mask, she stood by the stern rail. The shoreline looked dark as a coal mine at midnight. Thick woods came right to the edge of a sandy little beach at the base of the cove -- a crescent of sand that sparkled in moon-light.
Liz gulped a deep breath, grabbed her mask to keep it from being ripped off and jumped feet-first into the sea. A shock of icy cold hit her like a hammer blow. For several seconds her muscles all seemed paralyzed by the shock, but she sucked another breath through the tube of her snorkel and swam toward the shore.
Behind, she saw the sinister white yacht with its lights aglow, one that shined down so she could see the name Temptress blazoned across the stern. She sighed, turned her head away and swam on.
Normally thirty yards would be an easy swim for her, but Liz was so tired and shaken that her arms and legs felt like lead. She swam a few strokes and made no progress at all. She could feel the tug of a strong current working to carry her away from the shore.
Feeling helpless in the grip of that unseen force aroused other fears. The sharp, choppy dark waves all began to look like shark fins circling and closing in. Liz sobbed gurgling noises into her snorkel, numb with fear and cold, so tired that she no longer had the strength or will to resist.
She rasped out her last breath of air and slipped beneath the swirling dark waves. A strange false sense of well-being occupied her mind. Like someone asleep and enjoying a pleasant dream, she imagined John Sylver rushing to save her as he did before.
Liz could feel his strong arms embrace her and feel his big cock surge with a loving pulse. But then the icy water snapped her mind back to reality. John wasn't there. She was alone, desperate and about to die.
The odd thing was, she didn't care.