Go: A Surrender (14 page)

Feeling lonely, I tried to search in the room for Jack. But Anne
had lowered the lights, and with the spotlights in my eyes and the mask fitting
poorly, it was nearly impossible for me to see out into the small crowd. And
then I found him, at the back, watching. Telltale glass of wine in his hand. He
raised it and took a slow, thoughtful sip. Of course he couldn’t see where I
was looking, either.

I had half a mind to ask Anne to bring him up, but I knew that
was contrary to the spirit of the evening. So I kept my mouth shut. Tried not
to pay attention to my mounting need to pee.

“William, perhaps you’d like a turn,” said Anne now.

The man stepped forward who’d been heckling May—her
boyfriend, I guessed, or maybe just her friend. He was tall and swarthy, with
thick eyebrows and a huge shock of dark, curly hair. He stood in front of me
and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then unbuckled his belt and tugged down his velveteen
pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear; his large cock sprang forth joyfully as he
peeled off the tight slacks. He stood there grinning leeringly, was like some
1970s porn star, ropily muscled and hairy as a gorilla. When I’d been a teenage
girl even a little chest hair had bothered me, but now in the full of womanhood
I found hairy men strangely compelling, and as he stood before me dark and
grinning and erect I felt myself straining toward him like a planet bent to
orbit. I’d forgotten I needed to pee. I was wriggling and wet, my pussy contracting
involuntarily as if it could somehow draw forth that magnificent cock and
persuade it to bury itself in nature’s perfect design.

My hungry twisting and shuddering was exaggerated by the
rope, and William stepped toward me and reached out for my breasts, then
stopped in mid-air, maybe a half an inch from my skin. I tried to thrust my
chest out further, to meet his hand, but he grinned and drew it backwards an
equal distance.

“Please,” I said, prompting his grin to widen.

He proceeded to glide his hands all over me without ever
actually touching my skin. They skimmed my ribs, my belly, my upper thighs.
Back up, again not touching my breasts, then grazing the fine hair along the
back of my neck. And now with his mouth he made as if to descend upon one nipple,
but stopped short, touching me only with his hot breath.

Then he dropped to his knees and brought that mouth equally
close to my soaking pussy. Just breathing on me, and not touching. Though when
his shoulder bumped my inner thigh, I realized he was touching himself.

“Oh,” said Anne, “yes, I love that. Lay on the floor, would
you? Just right underneath her.”

To my dismay even the promise of being touched was removed
now as William lay on his back on the floor. Because of the way I was arched
outwards, I could see his face and shoulders and nothing else. His eyes were
trained on my pussy, or moved between my pussy and my breasts, and his shoulder
and upper arm jerked quickly as he stroked his cock, which I could not see. I
wanted it inside me, so badly.

He closed his eyes and his arm moved faster. “Yes,” urged
Anne, “just like that, this is great.”

As he jerked himself off he began to groan, or growl—a low,
animal sound that only stirred my lust further. Involuntarily I moaned a
response, whining, whimpering, arching toward him futilely on my line.

He grew steadily louder, his eyes squeezed shut now, his
teeth bared and his tongue protruding just beyond his lower lip. I was so
incredibly aroused by all the teasing that as he began to climax, my breath
caught in my throat and I cried out a little, very nearly coming along with
him. But not quite.

He came hard, shuddering beneath me, shoulders bucking
backwards against the floor. After the release he began to laugh, eyes closed,
and then his laughter subsided and he just stayed where he was, smiling
angelically, contented.

Meanwhile I was maddeningly untouched. I closed my eyes,
hung my head. Wondering if I could just think myself to orgasm.

“Going to sleep, are we?” came a sarcastic voice just beside
me, and I opened my eyes. Valerie again, looking down at William, still on the
floor. “Here,” she told him, tossing some napkins down onto his chest.

She’d brought me another drink. Once again she carefully
placed the straw between my lips. I hesitated to drink, concerned about my
already full bladder. But I’d been panting, I realized, and my throat was
parched. I swallowed, and she murmured to me.

“You really wanted to fuck him, didn’t you? You liked that big
prick of his? Wanted to feel it sliding into your cunt?”

I nodded, losing my grip on the straw. She went to put it
back.

“I shouldn’t,” I said, “I already have to go to the
bathroom.”

“God’s sake, why didn’t you say so?” laughed Valerie. “You
could have pissed on the man.”

“I don’t… I’m not… really…”

“It’s alright, love. Nothing you don’t want. That’s the deal
you struck, yeah?”

“How do you know that?”

“What’s your name? Sylvie? Well, we’ve played with Jack
before.”

I hated this
. I’d had my suspicions, of course, but
I’d wanted them to stay just that. Now here was confirmation: there were games
before me, women and games. Meanwhile he’d calmly watched me now with nearly a
dozen men. Acknowledging that my jealousy was hypocrisy didn’t make it hurt any
less.

“Please,” I said, “I don’t want to know.”

“Uh-oh, you quite like him, don’t you?” She paused, relented
in her teasing tone. “I don’t blame you. He’s a handsome bloke, and charming.
Generous, too, or so I hear.”

My arousal was nearly erased now, leaving only the pain of
my full bladder. “Can you tell Anne I have to use the bathroom?”

“Sure, love,” said Valerie, and walked away. A moment later
she returned. “She said I’m to help you.”

“Help me…?”

I was afraid they’d make me pee right there, and I didn’t
want to. Not anyway, and especially not now. What I wanted was Jack.

“No, not here, don’t worry. But we won’t undo all the rope.
Just the part from the ceiling, yeah? I’ll keep you from getting tangled. Sit
tight.”

She left and returned again, this time with a step stool.
Carefully she unhooked the lines suspending my arms. I couldn’t quite lower
them, though, because of the tension on the part that crossed behind my head. I
stood with elbows bent and palms up, like I was being apprehended.

Nor could I walk in normal steps thanks to the connections
all along my legs. In an instant I’d gone from a figurehead to a curiosity,
graceless and strange. I had no idea how I’d sit on a toilet. I walked
awkwardly beside Valerie as she guided me out of the light and toward a
hallway. Again I searched for Jack, but the mask gave me tunnel vision—all I
could see was Valerie, gently leading me forward.

Then, to my relief, we walked through a doorway and she slid
it shut behind us. We were in private, in a huge bathroom tiled all over with
slate.

I shuffled ahead of her to the toilet. “Do you mind?” I
asked her.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” she said, “Seen a bird
take a piss before.” But she still politely turned away. Switched on the water
at the sink.

I lowered my oiled-up bottom to the toilet and sat, and
after a moment I relaxed enough to pee. I was grateful for the running water,
to cover my self-consciousness a little further.

As I finished, though, I realized I couldn’t reach the paper
to wipe myself. I stayed still for a moment, composing myself for what I would
have to ask.

“Um, Valerie?”

And she switched off the sink and stepped toward me, holding
a cloth that I realized she’d been wetting. She had known before I did what I’d
need.

“Oh, god,” I said, blushing.

“Shh,” she said, “it’s not anything,” and she reached with
the cloth between my legs—it was warm, deliciously so—and gently but firmly
wiped me clean. The warmth of the cloth against my labia instantly reminded my
body to be aroused. My nipples hardened, and I shivered violently, just a
single, all-over shudder.

Valerie set aside the cloth and now helped me to stand
again. “Poor thing,” she said, “they’ve got you in quite a state, haven’t
they.”

My breaths were getting shorter as my arousal climbed, and
with my hands up my breasts heaved visibly with each quick inhalation. Valerie
licked her lips, looking me up and down. “You ever been with a girl before?”

I shook my head.

“Well,” she said, “then lucky me.” She bent her head to my
breast, flicked her tongue against my nipple. I gasped. She did the same on the
other side. Bit me ever so lightly, then clamped down, sucking and rolling my
nipple in her mouth until a long moan rose from my throat.

Then she knelt before me and with a firm but gentle touch
parted my labia. Truthfully I felt no hesitation over what was about to
happen—I’d been craving touch for over an hour now, and my body was greedy for
climax.

“This is alright?” she asked, her mouth inches from my
throbbing clit.

“Yes,” I gasped, “Please.”

She did not hesitate then to bury her face in my pussy,
sucking and swiping her tongue across my clit, then licking long strokes up my
labia, then returning to my clit. With one hand she reached up and pinched my
nipple, and her other she brought up underneath me, driving her fingers into me
as deep as they would go.

I groaned, loudly. She stopped licking me long enough to
reprimand me.

“Keep it down, love—they’ll be onto us.”

I tried to silence myself as she churned her fingers in and
out, sucking in and letting go my clit with gentle, tiny kisses. But I couldn’t
help it—I wanted her deeper inside me, so I ground my pelvis up against her,
whimpering.

She stopped again, “I said to hush, now. I know what you
want. Just stay right there.”

She stood and walked to the mirrored linen cabinet, swinging
open the door and peering around inside. The door was angled now so I could see
myself—hobbled and masked and slickly shining, my nipples dark with arousal, my
pussy pink and engorged. I looked like some pornographic fever dream.

Valerie emerged from the cabinet holding a sculpted,
swooping decorative bottle of bath oil. It was gently spiraled, with a rounded
cap. Again I inhaled sharply, seeing her intent.

She went to close the cabinet door.

“Don’t,” I said. “I want to watch.”

She smiled, returned to me, held the bottle up for me to
see. “This alright?” she said. “We’ve got dildoes of course, but they’re in the
bedroom. Terrible lack of foresight.”

I nodded. “Just go gently,” I said.

“Course. Now hang on a sec—since you’re watching.”

She quickly unbuttoned her chef’s jacket, revealing a pair
of smallish, perfect breasts, compact, muscled shoulders and abs. The tattoos
on her arms gave way to more tattoos, waves and tendrils of plants and demons
and angels crawling blackly across her tight, fit body. She loosed the
drawstring on her pants and they slid down her equally muscular thighs,
revealing a shaved pussy and pierced clit.

Now, tossing her clothes aside, she knelt before me once
again. I watched in the mirror as she reached for the bottle and nestled the
cap against me, angling it to enter the part of my body that seemed more and
more insatiable.

“Yes?” she said.

“Yes,” I whispered, and she slid the bottle into me, deeper,
deeper, until I felt I was as full as I had ever been and I cried out just
slightly. “Stop,” I said.

She nodded, and began to withdraw the bottle, then pushed it
into me again, careful to stop short of where it had hurt. And now her mouth
returned to my clit, sucking at it, tonguing it relentlessly. I realized there
was a stud in her tongue; the little metal ball would sweep around and across
my clit, exciting me further.

In the mirror I watched her muscled back and ass as she
worked the bottle in and out of me. I was moaning again, and maybe she was too
engrossed to stop me, but she did not—only licked me faster and faster, fucking
me with the bottle as my pussy tightened more and more against its curves, its
bulbous cap.

Now, with her other hand, she slipped a finger up my ass,
and that was it: I came suddenly, explosively, my pussy convulsing hard around
the bottle, and my asshole clamping down on Valerie’s finger, and I shouted—I
couldn’t help myself—
oh fuck, oh shit, oh my god oh FUCK—

And, horribly, she was stopping, she was laughing now, and
trying to shush me again, and I was dizzy from coming so hard, stumbling
backwards toward the wall, and she was springing to her feet to keep me from
falling, or hitting my head, and the bottle slipped from my pussy and fell and
smashed into pieces on the floor, and the door slid open violently and I looked
and it was Anne and the rest of the party, peering in at us, murmuring and
laughing and thoroughly entertained.

“Valerie,” said Anne, and Valerie grinned defiantly as she
carefully let go of me and turned to face her lover. I was worried until I saw
Anne was struggling to keep a straight face, herself. “You’re a naughty girl,”
she scolded. “Come along.”