Climax: Volume 2

by Ella Ford

  She gasped and moaned as I repeated the motion, slowly at first, driving the length forward and backwards with purposeful strokes. Her arousal began to build, her breathing became quicker and she tugged lightly at the ties that bound her arms and legs. But she was helpless and out of control, unable to move more than a few inches, utterly under my power.

  I began to speed up the motion of the dildo, pushing it into her deeper than before and with more force. Then I laid my hand on her clitoris and swirled my thumb around on that tender bulge. Her back arched as the pleasure intensified, her head thrashed from side to side and her muffled moans were a constant cacophony now.

  The sight of her writhing and helpless was utterly compelling, I could barely take my eyes of her body. I felt a familiar feeling building in my own midsection, a need that would soon require attention. But for now, I continued to thrust the plastic rod into my best friend’s pussy.

  In time, I sensed her pleasure mounting and realized that she was close to orgasm. Her breath was coming in short pants now, down her nose and around the cloying gag of the bunched up pantyhose. Her skin glistened with tiny beads of sweat, and her entire body shook with the intense feelings that were sweeping out of her pussy.

  “Don’t come unless I tell you,” I said sternly, and she immediately began to reign in her movements, struggling to rise above the furious urge to embrace the climax.

  “Good girl,” I said sweetly, stroking her thigh with my free hand but still moving the thick dildo in and out of her tortured pussy.

  After a few minutes, I pushed Jeronimo deep into her and let it go, satisfied that it wasn’t going anywhere, then I crawled up the bed to her head and kneeled beside her. Her face was wet with perspiration and her eyes were squeezed shut. Her body seemed to be trembling uncontrollably as she fought back the urge to give into the demands of her desire. I stroked her forehead, and she flinched from my touch. I smiled, captivated by the state that she was in - entirely under my control, tortured by pleasure. It felt like nothing I’d ever experienced and I wanted more.

  I teased my finger down her cheek, then plucked the pantyhose gag from her mouth. She breathed deeply, sucking air into her lungs as though she’d been underwater for many minutes. I bent down and kissed her again but she barely registered my presence, allowing me to suck on her lips and taste her tired tongue. Then I sat up and swung my leg across her head, straddling her face so that my pussy was positioned inches from her mouth and I was facing down her body.

  I sensed her struggling to lift her head to taste me, but she was held in place by my lower legs over her upper arms.

  “Do you want it Katie?”

  “Yes, yes I want it!” she snapped back, showing her frustration.

  “Then why don’t you beg for it?”

  She went quiet and her head fell back on the bed beneath her. “Please, please may I have it,” she implored me, and I truly believed that she wanted me then and this wasn’t part of an act or game.

  I lowered myself forwards across her body until my breasts lay on her stomach and I was inches from her pussy, still rammed full with Jeronimo. I reached forward and snaked my hands under thighs and began to move the dildo once more. At the same time, I lowered my own pussy down on to her face and was immediately rewarded with the eager touch of her tongue once again. I spread my legs wider, lowering my hips as much as I could, granting her access to everything that she wanted so badly.

  I gasped as she set to work on my clit. No hint of build up, no time to tease, she simply began to devour my aching sex and my entire body rejoiced at her forthright approach. As I eased into the intense sensations from my clit, I remembered that I had work to do and lowered my head onto Katie’s hot snatch. The dildo was still inside her, so I began to move this once again, frantically driving it backwards and forwards as my tongue swept across her clit.

  I felt her rock beneath me as I began my work, and she fell back from my clit for the briefest of seconds. Petulantly, I pushed my hips down on her face once more and urged her to continue. She soon relented.

  Our bodies began to move in unison, a constant feedback loop of pure pleasure. Each motion of my tongue on her clit eliciting an equal response by Katie on my own. This, in turn, fueled my actions and so the loop continued. I gripped her tightly, desperate to feel her body against me and was struck by an overwhelming feeling of closeness. The way her skin felt on mine, hot and soft; the way her breasts felt against my stomach, the hard nubs of her nipples teasing against me. It was extremely intense. I gripped her tightly to me and attacked her pussy with renewed vigor.

  Suddenly, I felt her body shake beneath me. She pulled away from my clit and I heard her panting heavily.

  “Puh-puh-please, may I c-come?” she begged, her voice strained with exhaustion.

  “Yes, you may,” I said after a torturous few seconds where I fought back the waves of pleasure in my own body. I turned back to her clit and sucked at it, pulling it into my mouth and pushing the flat of my tongue against it.

  Katie exploded beneath me, her body pushed upwards into me and she screamed loudly into the room. I held her tightly, riding her storm and grinding my hips against her face once more, eager to trigger my own climax and join her in mutual pleasure.

  She bucked and writhed, and I began to fear that she might throw me off like a rodeo rider. I glanced up at her legs as they pulled at the pantyhose ties, wondering if she would break free. Her feet shook back and forth, pointing her toes outwards as she struggled to release the intolerable tension of the orgasm that swept through her body.

  And it was this simple sight, this perplexing display of her captivity and surrender, her tiny stockinged foot pulling against the restraint that I had placed her in, it was this that pushed me over my own edge. I felt the orgasm wash over me without a single warning. One second, my body was tingling with pleasure but under control, and the next, my pleasure erupted with an intense fire that swept up my body and made me scream out loud. I felt something gush out of my pussy, a liquid warmth that squirted into Katie’s face, then an eager lapping as my best friend struggled to have her fill from my sex.

  Together we writhed, our bodies locked in a mutual explosion of pure desire. My fingers gripped her thighs, fingernails digging into the soft nylon stockings. I felt myself laughing as the surging intensity raged on, unable to control the furious storm that whirled inside me. I felt Katie still licking at my spent pussy as her arms and legs tugged at the ties that bound her, the rigid dildo still plunged deep into her sweet hole.

  And then we both fell still. I collapsed forwards, my head resting on her quivering thigh. The strength left my legs and my hips dropped down, smothering Katie in the hot mass of my dripping lips. She didn’t struggle, she didn’t seem to mind.

  Then I rolled off her, falling to the bed, utterly exhausted and totally satisfied. I glanced back up the bed to find Katie staring at me. Her pretty face was slick with my juices and she had a look of perfect contentment. She looked at me and smiled sweetly. “Happy Birthday Chloe,” she said, then closed her eyes.

  THE END

  The Night Of One Hundred Lesbians

  by Ella Ford

  Chapter 1: The First Guest

  I struggled a little against the wrist restraints that held my arms in place beside my head. I didn’t expect to be able to loosen them, or even to move any great distance. The gesture was token at best, an involuntary action that signalled to the woman who was circling my naked body that I was totally prone and completely available.

  The woman smiled down at me and teased a manicured fingernail up the back of my leg. I shuddered at her touch and arched my back slightly. I heard the woman sigh with delight at my reaction, then she moved her hand between my thighs and traced her nail downwards, lightening her touch and pulling away, inches from my pussy.

  I was entirely at her mercy, lying on my back on a sturdy mahogany dining table. My arms were stretched along the table above my head, held in place with fur-lin
ed leather cuffs that were strapped to the legs at the other end of the broad surface. Across my stomach and chest, three broad leather straps held me down, preventing me from shifting my body too much. My ass was pushed forward against the edge of the table and my legs were raised up, suspended from the ceiling by two more leather cuffs and long white ropes. The ropes were fastened to opposite corners of the room, holding my legs open and exposing my pussy and asshole.

  The woman wandered around the table, sipping her drink and gazing down hungrily at my body. With her free hand, she lightly caressed my skin, stroking her way across my belly to my breasts. She began to playfully tweak my nipples, rolling the hard nubs of flesh between her thumb and forefinger. I gasped as she played with me, utterly unable to flinch away from her touch.

  “So,” said the woman, smirking slightly with lips that glistened bright red in the dim light of the room, “you’re tonight’s centerpiece are you? I must say, Imelda has a most compelling sense of showmanship at her parties, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you ma’am,” I replied, remembering Imelda’s instructions for addressing her guests. Only speak when spoken to, address everyone as ma’am.

  The woman shifted her hand to my face and gently stroked my cheek. I felt a shiver run up my spine and a peculiar sensation that was familiar, but, at the same time, foreign and exotic. I closed my eyes and leaned my head into her warm touch.

  The woman took another sip of her drink and eyed me. She was older than me, in her thirties perhaps. She wore a loose ball gown cut from purple satin. The dress was sleeveless with a high neck and a tantalising panel of sheer material over her ample cleavage. Her honey blonde hair was gathered up in a fashionably chaotic looking mess at the back of her head, held in place with unseen clips and fixings. She was quite beautiful, with soft features and friendly eyes. She reminded me of a middle school teacher I’d once had. This set my mind at rest somehow.

  “I appear to be the first guest,” she said, her soft voice dripping with a peculiar tone that took me a moment to place. Lust. “I’ve always had a problem with turning up to places on time,” she purred, teasing her hand down my body as she stepped back along the table. “Always seem to turn up places early. Do you have the same problem my dear?”

  “No ma’am,” I replied, craning my neck to see what the woman was doing. As I watched, she pulled a chair from under the table and positioned it between my legs. Then she sat down and placed her tall martini glass down beside my hips.

  She studied me through the inverted “V” of my raised legs, then stroked her finger down the inside of my thigh and lightly brushed my exposed pussy lips. I sighed, and squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly very aware of what was about to happen.

  “Still,” said the woman, smirking at me mischievously, “being early has its advantages, wouldn’t you agree?” Her fingers dipped into my labia, plunging between the folds of my pussy and revealing my damp arousal. “Oh my,” she exclaimed, holding a glistening fingertip up for my inspection, “someone is very excited about the party?”

  My mind was racing, utterly unable to process and parse what was happening to me. I wasn’t a lesbian, I’d never even kissed another girl! Yet here I was, strapped to a table in this expensive city apartment, exposing myself to this beautiful stranger. I found myself torn between a strong urge to get away, to flee from this strange predicament, and an unfamiliar urge to allow this woman do exactly what she wanted to me!

  “Do you mind if I…?” she asked, glancing down at my pussy. A mock note of polite enquiry colored her words, then she tittered to herself and spoke once more. “Oh, of course you don’t mind! You wouldn’t be here if you were shy about having your pussy eaten, would you my dear?”

  I was breathing heavily now, desperately wanting to be somewhere else, but desperately wanting to feel her tongue on me. I shook my head, unable to find any suitable response. I tugged at the wrist restraints again and wriggled against the tight straps across my body, a final, futile gesture of defiance.

  The woman smiled at my reluctance and placed her hands on my thighs, then she lowered her head and plunged her tongue into my wet folds. She licked upwards, starting at my hole and teasing her way through my lips and across the throbbing nub of my clitoris. I nearly screamed at the intensity of the sensation, the all encompassing warmth as it travelled the length of my slit. I felt waves of pleasure ripple out from my pussy, igniting a fire in my entire body.

  Her grip tightened on my legs and her head dropped down further, focussing her attention on my tight opening. I felt her tongue poke around, and then force its way into me, a tiny penetration that felt unfathomably pleasant. She pushed her head forward, entering me deeper and I felt her nose push against my clit. The sensation of her face pressed into me was electric, like nothing I’d ever experienced. My arms and legs tugged at the restraints once more, no longer in a futile attempt to escape, now driven by the exertions of desire. I wanted to wrap my thighs around her head, to lock her in place. I wanted to drop my hands to her head, to grip her hair and pull her deeper into me. But I was held fast, utterly unable to achieve anything other than submit totally to this strange woman’s whims.

  I felt her focus shift, a sudden departure as she pulled herself out of me and then a broad sweep upwards through my labia. Her tongue located the sensitive bud of my clitoris and began to concentrate her attention there. She began with gentle flicks, each touch sending jolts of desire outwards from my pussy. I curled my toes and clenched my fingers until my sharp nails dug into the soft flesh of my palms. Then she began to swirl around my sex in a never ending spiral that teased at my throbbing clit and made me gasp audibly.

  I pushed my head backwards against the hard surface, muscles in my neck straining with the feelings of intense pleasure that roared through my body. I was unable to think clearly, no longer even considering escape from this peculiar situation. My entire being had found a focal point between my legs and the only presence in the universe that mattered was this woman and her hungry tongue. I screamed out, unable to control my voice. From deep within me, a familiar feeling surfaced, irresistible and inevitable. It bubbled outwards, filling my arms and legs and torso with a raging fire, igniting every sense that I possessed with its unfathomable warmth. I released myself into the unstoppable force of the orgasm, not even bothering to fight against it.

  My mind exploded and my entire body spasmed, pulling against the restraints that held me in place. My back arched as far as the straps would allow, and I felt as though the explosion of pleasure would consume me totally. I pushed my hips upwards, forcing myself into the woman’s face, not willing to lose the attention of her tongue just yet.

  “Yes, yes, oh yes!” I screamed out, quaking with the energy that rippled through me.

  And then it ended and my body went limp, legs hanging in the ceiling restraints, arms lifeless on the hard surface of the table. I closed my eyes and attempted to gather my wits.

  Distantly, I became aware of movement. The woman had stood and picked up her drink. She smiled down at me and ran her soft hand down my leg. I flinched at her touch, skin prickling with the memory of the orgasm.

  “I think the other guests are arriving,” she purred, touching her fingertips to the corner of her mouth to wipe away my pussy juice. “Thank you dear, and enjoy yourself tonight won’t you?” And with that, she turned on her heel and left the room. I never saw her again.

  My head fell to the side and I breathed deeply, exhausted and apprehensive about what else the night had in store for me. Outside the room, the party was beginning to come to life. I could hear the muffled drone of conversation, the sound of women talking together excitedly. I lay back and tried to relax, allowing my mind to wander. I found myself thinking back to that conversation several weeks ago. A conversation that had started out perfectly innocently, but had soon taken a peculiar turn.

  How had I ended up like this? How had I ended up strapped to a table, exposed and available? How had
I ended up the willing sex toy of a hundred eager lesbians?

  Chapter 2: The Twins

  “You can’t just become a lesbian,” said Karen with a note of exasperation in her voice. “It’s not like joining Netflix, we don’t have an application form!”

  I sighed and slumped my shoulders. “Well, you did!” I spat in desperation, instantly regretting what I’d said.

  Karen fixed me with a venomous glare. “That’s not fair Katrina and you know it!” Whenever my friend used my full name, I knew I was in trouble.

  I took hold of her hand across the table and squeezed it gently, fixing her with a look of genuine contrition. “I know honey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just … when we were in high school, you seemed to be into guys, then you got married and then … well, suddenly you’re a lesbian!”

  “We talked about this Kat. I got married young because of my parents. They would have never accepted how I really felt, how I had always been attracted to girls. Hell, you saw how they were with my brother when he admitted he voted Democrat in 2012.”

  I nodded grimly, remembering the cold manner in which Karen’s younger brother had been disowned and cut out of the will. They hadn’t spoken to him since, I’d even heard the word “hellbound” uttered on more than one occasion. There was a good reason why Karen had moved to the city and hardly ever talked to her parents anymore, why she never bothered to tell them about her life since her divorce.

  “I’m sorry,” I began, choosing my words more carefully this time. “I know that you can’t pick and choose. It’s just … you know, sometimes, I get so frustrated with guys. They’re such dicks sometimes. Which would be fine, if they were any good in bed, but they never are!”