A Specialist Lady · Part 2 (2/2)
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truction in finding the most sensitive spots of a captive male's love organ. "One gauges one's success from the noises he makes and the way he twitches and writhes," she informed her, by now, very interested protégé who was learning by the minute. And success she was having too, judging by the noises the subject was making into his gag. And by the way he was straining against his bonds.
There was one hyper-sensitive area behind the glans that produced a huge throbbing erection. Delicate finger work at this point soon brought on a heaving spurting ejaculation which Chantelle deftly caught in a small plastic jar quickly produced from her jacket pocket. "No sense in making a mess, darling," she laughed. After allowing the whole discharge to drain into the transparent container, she held it up for inspection before screwing on the cap. "Look at the size of it," she laughed, "Think of him pumping that into you. It'd have filled you to overflowing." The silent Heather had taken in every detail of how it had been done.
The two women stood up and faced the bound captive who sat limp and spent. Chantelle removed the earplugs but left the gag in place. She held the plastic jar in front of Mark's nose. "That's the largest amount I've seen in a long while. And I've seen plenty." She thrust both hands into her jacket pockets. The black leather rustled softly.
"Well now Heather and I are going out to the kitchen for some refreshment. Sorry we can't invite you but we're going to have some girl talk. And we'll leave that gag in position. You can sit and silently speculate on what's going to happen to you next. Just relax, you'll be comfortable enough." She playfully stroked his cheek. "Just don't go away." Both laughed softly.
In the kitchen Heather made coffee and both sat down to sip it.
Chantelle asked, "Have you got anything in black leather? Like this coat I’m wearing?" Her hostess said she didn't. "I ask you this because I can see he's a fetishist. I know, I've seen enough of them.
He hasn't been able to take his eyes off this since he saw me. And if I touch him with it he practically breaks out into a sweat." She smiled as she sipped some of her coffee. "If you ever get something like this, it'd do wonders for your relationship. He'd go frantic every time you put it on." She smiled again, "But, failing that, have you got anything stiff and heavy. Something that rustles and crackles when you move. That turns them on too." She laughed, "Half of leather's attraction is the noise it makes with every movement."
"Well," began Heather, "There's an old rubberized raincoat that used to belong to my mother. She's been gone many years now but she got this a few months before she passed away and never wore it much. It's years old, very much out of fashion but I haven't had the heart to throw it out. Yet it's hardly been used."
"We'll have a look at it later. Meanwhile there's a few things I'd like to tell you." And Chantelle proceeded to tell Heather the intricacies and delights of advanced bondage procedures. Clearly she was a specialist in the practice. And equally clearly here, she had an avid pupil.
Their coffee finished, the pair went into the bedroom where Heather got out her mother's old waterproof. On Chantelle's advice she put it on. It was dark blue, heavy and when buttoned up, ran from throat to within a foot of the floor. With the wide belt firmly done up it rustled with every move. "I think it might do," said the instructress, "Let's go and see his reaction. Has he ever seen it before?" It turned out he hadn't. "Then it'll be a surprise," she smiled.
The two women, both dressed for cold and bad weather, stood before the bound and gagged Mark. His eyes bulged as he looked at the belted, rain coated Heather. Who stood there smiling, slowly rubbing her hands up and down the rubberized sleeves. "Let's get on with stage two then," said Chantelle. "This will be slightly different though. This time you're going to be blindfolded Mark." And without further ado she tied a black sash around his head. Unlike last time, he could hear but not see what his two captor tormentors were going to do.
This time the hapless Mark was to be fellated. "In time, you'll make up your own private language for these practices," said their instructress, "Which will be good. It'll individualize your relationship. But now the important thing is to learn the correct procedure." The pair had tentatively attempted this particular act before but had never been really successful with it. Chantelle was determined to rectify this.
Two cushions were placed in front of Mark and his two lady mentors knelt on them, their outer clothing which so aroused him, rustling as they did so. Some preliminary fondling and caressing brought some life into his member once again and then the serious business began. They took turns. At first the blindfolded Mark could tell who was attending to him. Whether it the novice, but fast learning Heather or the vastly experienced practitioner who had come into their lives. But as the act proceeded, as he started to lose control of his senses and as his companion picked up the technique, he completely lost the capacity to distinguish who was handling him, or more correctly, mouthing him.
The end came with the straining, heaving Mark having a shattering orgasm which, but for the gag in his mouth, would have been heard in the street outside. He had no idea who had brought him to climax.
He lay, spent, flaccid and helpless in his chair. His two tormentors slowly rose, replaced the cushions and allowed time to pass while the exhausted male slowly drifted back to earth. They then began to quietly untie his bonds. He hardly noticed them.
Half an hour later Mark was still seated. He had not moved. Two other chairs and a small table had been drawn up and arranged around him.
His two lady companions, both still wearing jacket and raincoat, were seated in them. A bottle and carafe of water were on the table. All three were holding a stiff drink.
"Well then," said Chantelle, looking at Mark. "I take it your needs have been satisfied? At least for the time being?" The best Mark could manage was a weak smile and a nod. "I hope so. Unfortunately we can't say the same for Heather. I'm sorry my dear, but you have not been looked after. We can't expect anything much from your partner but you could be masturbated if necessary. I could oblige if required. Quite professionally I assure you."
Heather smiled. "Thank you, but no. At least not now. It would be very much an anti-climax. I'll be OK. Leave it until our next session."
"Alright then," said their temptress, "I can understand that. Next time it'll be your turn. You'll be tied up, perhaps gagged securely and it'll be Mark's pleasure and privilege to do the honours. We'll work out a good scenario to enhance it. And, I think," she smiled faintly, "I think you might wear that waterproof as well." At this, Mark's head lifted at this and turned to look at his raincoat clad partner. His eyes fastened on her. This was not lost on Chantelle.
"Put your drink down and stand up Heather," she ordered, pushing the table to one side and clearing a space in front of the still recumbent Mark. "And now stand in front of him," Heather did so. Her coat hung loosely on her. "Now tighten up those wrist straps and do up that belt another notch." The rubberized fabric whispered softly as this was done and when completed had the effect of emphasizing her already trim waist. Finally she stood, slim waisted, girlish and dressed for the worst of weather.
"Very good," commented her advisor, "Now put your hands deeply into those big front pockets, pull your shoulders back so that your bust is accentuated and then slowly walk up and down in front of him. Keep your eyes down but glance at him from time to time." Heather did all of this. The only sound was the faint rustle of her raincoat. There was no doubt she could be an actress when she chose to be. Mark could not keep his eyes off her. His mouth hung partly open.
"I think you'll use of that garment a lot in times to come," smiled Chantelle. Then Mark stood up. Heather had just walked about two metres away from him and turned around, she stopped when she saw her lover was on his feet. He strode quickly to her and put his arms around her. She looked at him, then pulled her hands out of her raincoat pockets and firmly embraced him. The only sound was the swishing waterproof fabric of her coat.
The two remained entwined for almost a minute. Then Mark spoke.
"Incredible as it may seem I think I may be able to rise to the occasion yet again." He looked down into Heather's face, "So perhaps darling, you may be catered for after all." He smiled.
She looked at him mischievously then unclasped her hands and reached down toward his private parts. His fly was already fully unzipped, his underpants had been carefully cut away by Chantelle. Her searching, gentle fingers found his penis and indeed, his appendage, already twice ejaculated that evening, was stiffening yet a third time.
"Well you are a strong boy and no mistake," this from Chantelle who had leaned forward in her chair to see this rising drama. "Heather, you are a fortunate girl indeed." Then she was on her feet and standing beside the pair. Swiftly, expertly, she seized and caressed his member herself, continuing with her right hand the process Heather had begun. At the same time with the other she loosened the belt of the girl's raincoat and undid several of the buttons as well. Without pausing, this probing hand reached inside the waterproof, unfastened the catch and zip on her skirt and pushed it down onto the floor.
Heather felt her knickers follow it immediately. Within seconds she had been deftly and efficiently rendered naked from the waist down.
This woman was a professional indeed. Meanwhile, she continued to caress Mark's manhood. She also began to stroke his partner's orifice, which she noted, had already begun to moisten generously.
"And now Mark," she murmured softly, "It's time for you to give your lady what she so urgently wants and so richly deserves." Mark straightened, moving his hands slowly up and down Heather's back.
"Perhaps you'd both like to adjourn to the bedroom?" Chantelle suggested softly.
"No," It was Heather, speaking for the first time, firmly and decisively. "Here," she said, "And now." She pointed to a large white, fluffed up sheepskin rug on the floor in front of a stone mock fireplace. "There, on that, and quickly." Without further ado she got down onto it. Sitting, she stretched her legs and spread them, then swiftly undid the remaining lower buttons of her raincoat and flung aside the flaps, exposing her vaginal orifice in all its glory.
Finally she lay back, closed her eyes and arched her back slightly.
The waterproof fabric rustled softly.
She did not waste words, she simply said, "Mark, at once, if you please." It was a command and not to be disobeyed.
And as was only fitting, Mark responded immediately. He knelt on the rug between the outstretched legs of his partner. A few caresses to her gaping love orifice, by now almost dripping with anticipation, he descended and entered and was lovingly received. He began to thrust, gently at first, then with increasing enthusiasm. Heather's response was to moan softly in ecstasy, then her legs and back began to move in unison with his movements. The raincoat whispered and creaked as they both strove together.
Chantelle, still standing, watched the coupling with a smile then gathered up the three half emptied drink glasses. "Go to it children,"
she murmured as as she walked out to the kitchen. Heather and Mark, moving happily to a delightful shared orgasm, were quite oblivious.
Forty minutes later, all three were seated again. This time around the kitchen table, the drinks had been recharged and the two love partners looked dreamily satiated and satisfied. No one spoke for a while, all three stared out the window at middle class suburbia.
"Well then," Chantelle was the first to speak. She was still wearing her buttoned and tightly belted shiny black jacket. "I think we can call that a success then." Mark and Heather smiled and nodded. "Very much so," Mark whispered. Heather looked contented.
"Bearing in mind what we accomplished," she continued, "Are we ready for another joint effort in the future?" The couple both voiced their approval. "Very well then," said the instructress/temptress, "I'll leave it for for you to choose when. This time it'll be Heather's turn to be rendered incapable. We'll make full use of your sashes and bindings and perhaps we can make use of your waterproof again." Both of their faces shone. "I can provide a good scenario if required. I've done this many times before, believe me. But for now, let's all drink to future success, and happiness."
All three glasses were raised and clinked together.
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A Specialist Lady · Part 2 (2/2)
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