Torn Between Twins

Chapter One-3

As he so often had, Jay wanted to lap at those exposed flaps.

He needed to nibble with his nimblest lips, tongue-flick that ring, delve deep and slather-suckle-slurp until she gushed so copiously all over him again… Then in insanely stymied rebellion he wanted to clamp his grappling hands onto those breasts and squeeze, or drive his raging boner between those succulently plump lips until he emptied himself down his owner’s throat. Failing that, even fondling that throbbing rod for himself would have been such a relief as Jen played the burlesque on and on, always toying so suggestively with that paddle and only gradually working her way closer and closer to the bound voyeur.

Of course he couldn’t do any of those imprudent, even impudent things.

His mistress’ bonds kept Jay’s rutting heat contained, building inside him like a pressure-cooker with a jammed valve. Consummately in control all the while, gorgeous Jennifer had Jay’s keening need truly reaching a feverish peak before her beautifully fluid moves finally began to carry her up onto the expansive mattress with him.

Tossing the paddle adeptly from right hand to left (and now wearing the knuckle-spiked, fingerless black motorcycle gloves she’d just made such dramatic show of donning) Jen snatched up the full bottle of Dom on the way by. Jay tried to make sure his praise (veiled request) couldn’t be construed as a complaint in any way.

“I have never seen anything even remotely as arousing as this performance, mistress, not in a hundred nightclubs. You’ve got my mouth so dry, my palms wet and my c**k harder than it’s been in almost eight years to the day.”

“I thought I instructed silence, slave.”

Pop! The stopper flew, the open mouth foamed.

“You’ll get your drink – along with a dozen extra swats for being an undisciplined t**t. Now shut the f**k up and worship your Mistress properly.”

Easier-obeyed orders were rarely received.

Teasing part of the show over, Jen dropped the paddle to the mattress and gyrated her shoulder-rolling way forward. First she was dancing astride his bound ankles, then his knees. From straddling his thighs she somehow managed to avoid even brushing his monster erection as she twisted and swayed her unbearably arousing way up until she knelt forked just over his belly, those spectacular breasts blatantly arrayed right in his face.

Closer and closer they came as she leaned right in, finally thrusting one of those big, red, naturally projecting n*****s unavoidably upon him.

“Here’s your drink, baby,” Jen purred. Then suddenly a bubbly runnel of Dom was flooding down that ovoid slope, sudsing over the twinkling studs, and off the rubbery, pebbly, thimble-sized n****e tip right into his mouth – and down his chin and neck to cool his throbbing crotch.

Jay got his drink all right.

He also got a lap dance more flamboyantly maddening than any previous in the way that mother’s milk may be outclassed in taste and sophistication by dry champagne – most of which ended up soaking them both. And when the bottle was gone, the hair-whipping dancing and writhing evolved into outright abusive mauling.

Whatever she intended with that paddle, Jay found the cheeks of his face slapped bright red merely by the incessant battery of Jen’s wet breasts. He almost lost an eyeball to the pitiless grinding of those stiff, pointy, silver-pierced n*****s. Most unendurably arousing of all though was when his educative older friend finally ended by reaching back into her rebellious teenager repertoire, when birth control remained unavailable.

Saddling herself astride his hips, his salacious mistress simply skipped the whole insertion business. She just flung herself into humping, rubbing that lip-flappy cunt and especially her pierced c******s against the root and back-bent shaft of Jay’s insanely raging need-spike.

In prior times this was often enough for both of them to finish. Far more jaded these days, Jay could only try to cope with the most deranging sensory/emotional overload yet until his shrieking and bucking rider finally finished with her luxuriously protracted build-up, ever more aggressive lunging frenzy and finally her enviously extraordinarily extended orgasm.

Whew! And oooooooohhhhh, man! So it wasn’t like any other lap dance either in that it was the glorious performer who finally climbed off sated and dripping in the end, leaving the damned bachelor/captive far more horny and unfulfilled than before. Remembering his manners at last, slave Jay could only groan, whimper and pant as his beloved mistress went to grab up the other bottle – and that unsettlingly commodious handbag.

“Open up, lover. You’re way overdue for a shot or two. Now begins the proper party!”

Jay gratefully tipped back his face.

Jen tilted the vodka bottle and poured a couple ounces of icy Stoli directly into him. Then she upended it and took her own slug straight from the neck. Those amazing eyes reflected and magnified a forest of two-inch flames. Still her gaze burned brighter.

“That was quite the killer dry-hump – or semidry anyway. Lots better than it used to be. A fitting way to inaugurate your enslavement, wouldn’t you say?”

“Absolutely, my soul-owner.”

“That little genital ring makes quite a difference. Yours does too, doesn’t it? I told you four years ago when I gave it you. The more erogenous the spot, the more a hole full of gold enhances the erotic sensations.”

“I’ve never argued – at least since the damn thing healed.”

Jen dispensed another round. Then she twisted the open bottle in between Jay’s shins so that it wouldn’t tip and spill. While she pawed in her handbag, she talked on.

“You did a nice job soldering that ring permanently closed. I know that must have hurt. Not as good (or as painful) of a job as I did with the needle in the first place though.”

And wouldn’t you know it, that was exactly what she held up: the same thick, heavily curved needle she’d used to pierce the ultra-sensitive tip of his p***s. Only for some reason this time it was clamped into the little set of surgical hemostats Jennifer liked to use as a roach clip. Seeing his immediate alarm, she gave him the wickedest of grins.

“No, we aren’t poking any more holes today baby. I’ve got some even more enduring modification in mind.” She stretched way over and grabbed one of the candles, still screwed into its cut-crystal stick. Like the liquor, this she twisted in between Jay’s bare thighs, liberally dripping hot wax on them in the process.

“Hold it steady, slave,” Jennifer warned his involuntary hissing and twitching. “You don’t want to move during this part. Contain the pain; channel it to help fuel your submissive arousal.”

Jay meekly employed his expression only to ask what his mistress now meant to do to him. Rewarding his restraint, she chose to answer aloud.

“I’m going to do exactly what I said I’d do. Like your just-freely-ceded soul, every bit of this body is my property – whatever deluded Julia may believe. Especially the part I’ve had first dibs on since we were exploratory kids playing Lost in the Cave. I’m going make damn sure that man-grabbing b***h never forgets it.”

Curling up comfortably beside him, Jen held the curved center of that needle into the hottest part of the candle’s flame.

Wait, what had she said after reddening his neck? Damn if Jen didn’t really mean to actually brand him! This was certainly a girl to take at her word. The only question was where – uh, no dumbass, she’d answered that. Jay knew exactly where. The question was what…

Giggling a bit tipsily, Jen was nevertheless holding rock-steady as she bent his fiercely hard erection back by the gold-ringed glans and pressed her now incandescent steel arc crosswise against the shaft just above the base.

Lurching enough to spatter himself with more melted wax, Screamin’ Jay just barely bit back the first such of his enslavement. Gentling him with a warning caress, Jennifer reminded her chattel about channeling his pain into his rampant arousal.

“That’s only the first line, my love. Be a brave slave for me. Just eight more to go.”

Eight!

Perhaps Jay should have figured that as well.

A little quick addition told the living piece of property that it would take nine such short straight lines to form the three block capital letters J, E and N. His newly-declared owner and mistress was literally branding her very name unmistakably a full inch high right down the tender fleshy length of his erect s*x organ!

Julia wasn’t going to be too happy about that.

Nor was Jay, particularly; the agony was huge, cumulative and unlikely to be soothed soon. Still he scarcely needed Jen’s gentle jacking while the needle reheated to keep that flaming piece of meat so exquisitely stiff. Far more necessary was the shot of vodka she gave him afterwards – after splashing that raw alcohol all over the freshly completed brand first and making him splatter hot wax all over himself again that is. Even then that badly abused boner ached almost as much intrinsically with unrelieved need as it did on the badly burned surface. Jennifer soothed one and worsened the other by salaciously licking her sanitized signature all over.

“There! Not only have I claimed this p***s and its attached male for all of eternity. Your soul-owner is also a very skilled witch, one who’s conjuring has just cursed you with painful impotence should you ever even consider sticking this thing of mine into anyone but its rightful owner. So do not even dream about defying me on this, b***h!”

“If you say so, fearsome mistress.”

“Hmph! That was a bit unconvincing. I may have to take more coercive measures before much longer, extort some more titanium-clad assurances. Let’s have another drink on things anyway. Then we’ll start introducing the budding submissive (and shameless former horn-dog) to some serious pain, humiliation and female domination!”

Jay

Jay was way more than game!

He didn’t see how any of this was supposed to rescue him from Julia. Indeed with the wedding still going full steam ahead, he was getting into more hot water with his beyond-formidable fiancé by the moment. Nevertheless he trusted Jenny implicitly.

He also loved her with every iota of his soul.

A year and a half his senior, he’d always been totally in awe of her, madly turned on by her and generally helpless to resist most of her wishes. The way all of that was culminating in this pre-wedding ‘enslavement’ felt like the perfect formalization of their always asymmetric yet indispensably symbiotic relationship.

It was all so unfathomably exhilarating, promising the most extreme if arcane avenues to fulfillment for the jaded playboy. For this one night at least, why not just go with the flow, wallow in the fantasy of sharing such a dreamlike utopia, a bulwark against whatever nightmares reality might soon require?

The flaming pain of his blood-pounding hard-on was real enough, as was the brand sustaining it. Until that healed, f*****g was going to be torture anyway – unless he really did have to stick it into the ice b***h. Then the temperature differential would probably make him shatter like he’d stuck it in a bucket of liquid nitrogen and crushed it in a vise.

Somebody must be reading his mind – or least attuned to that illicit vibe.

As if to punish even such an innocent inner jibe, or as if more burns could further inure him to the frigid b***h, Mistress Jennifer proceeded to pull free the wedged-in vodka bottle and candlestick (splash-splash-ouch-damn).

After more shots she exchanged the former for another of the latter. Then straddling him in an infernal reversion to her smoking-hot lap dance, Jay’s fiery witch-mistress upended both flaming tapers. Swiveling her hips and jiggling her t**s, she laughingly drizzled that scalding liquid all over him, coating Jay’s torso (and occasionally spattering her own) with endless burning drips and puddles and runnels.

Still Jay stayed ragingly rigid throughout. Soon he was even reveling in the pain, lifting up his tortured t**s to meet the scorching drips. Was this what Jen had meant about channeling the agony into arousal? It seemed she knew best yet again.