Fuck!

The word screamed inside Eric’s head, but the shock was such, as ice-water deluged him from balls to chin, that all he could do was suck in air and clench his ribcage. Then before he could catch hold of his gut reaction he spat out the words. “Fuck—you little …”

He swallowed the rest, but wished to Christ she hadn’t heard that much. She was smug enough already.

The sensation of intense cold ebbed, and all the others returned—the sore nipple and stinging face, and of course the throb of the cock-ring sustaining his heightened level of arousal. Daniella’s arctic drenching had only soused that for a brief moment before his whole body felt it again. The sexy game-playing bitch had done well to undermine his intentions so quickly, he had to hand her that much. Preferably with the palm of his right hand—against her tight ass, till it was fucking raw.

“Happy now?” He was still panting from his unexpected soaking.

“I’m getting there.” There was deep satisfaction in her voice. God, he would get her back. She wouldn’t know what was damn well happening to her once he had his freedom. “You know, I had no idea what a beautiful sight it would be,” she said, “a sexy guy all tied up and wet.”

“Well I’m glad you’re so entertained.”

“Hush, Eric. I wasn’t talking to you. We’re not interested in anything you might have to say right now. Are we, Arabella?”

“Not remotely, babe.”

It was a shock more powerful than being doused with freezing-cold water. For an instant Eric was convinced that the speaker was in the room with them. Then the laconic smoky voice spoke again and he realised that it was coming through his own laptop speakers.

“All we want you to do is sit there and look pretty for us, okay?”

Eric’s heart continued to canter, despite the newcomer’s lack of geographical proximity. Her virtual presence added a whole new and uncomfortable element to the dynamic. “Who the fuck …”

“I’ve already said. Weren’t you listening, silly? Her name’s Arabella, I’ve mentioned her to you before. I’m Skyping with her via your laptop. She’s looking at you right now in all your manly gorgeousness.”

“I’ve been looking for quite a while now,” the smoky voice said. It dripped with a mockery that had remained absent in Daniella’s thus far, even at the height of her mischief. “I always enjoy eye-candy. More so if it keeps its mouth shut.”

“Oh I see,” he said, attempting dryness to cover the degree to which he was pissed off, along with the unaccountable increase in his level of sexual arousal. “So you’ve put me on display as a common entertainment.”

“That’s right,” Daniella said, her voice positively chirpy. “Like you did with me, yesterday.”

Eric gave an inward groan of understanding. The DVD porno, the exhibitionism. Please God not the nipple clamps … “I see. This is a step-by-step payback for the past two days.”

“Not exactly. I hope I’m a bit more creative than that. Arabella suggested where I could get some supplies, so I thought it only fair that she get to share in the experience.” Daniella ran a hand up his groin, taking care not to touch his cock. A great shuddering ache ran through his already tortured body. “Look at you,” his tormentor said softly. “The way you react to the merest touch right now, even though you try not to show it. Must be driving you crazy.”

“So,” he said, endeavouring to ignore her words and rise above the frustration which was threatening to envelop his brain, “is she the source of all your great ideas? What else has she told you to do, you little tattletale? Had to call in reinforcements, did you?” Even in his current semi-deranged circumstance he regretted it as a cheap shot as soon as it had left his mouth.

“What did you say?” Daniella’s voice was low and aggrieved.

“Christ, does he ever shut up? Fucking slap him again. It was sweet the first time around.” The disembodied Arabella sounded genuinely irritated now, like she’d only been assuming it before. “Look, idiot, do you know anything about this girl? You really think she needs me to tell her what to do?”

“God, you fucker.” Daniella joined in the tirade, her anger and hurt fully apparent now. “You fucking … patronising … fucker! I should stuff your own dirty underpants in your mouth and leave you there the rest of the bloody weekend!”

“Do it,” Arabella encouraged, and Eric was actually relieved to hear Daniella refuse the advice.

“No. No—I promised you a show, Bella, and that’s what you’re going to get.” She clutched a fistful of his hair and spoke right into his face. “And it’s my show, fucker, my rules. No one else’s. Understand?”

“Yes. Yes, I get it.”

“And if I let a friend watch, that’s my choice too, okay?”

“Okay, yes, your choice! Shit, I get it! Ow! Fuck! You can let go!”

The grip relented and his head lolled slightly.

“So you damn well should be.”

Fucking hell. How intense had that been?

~~~~

Daniella strutted away from the focal point of her anger a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. Bloody bastard! Even now Eric had the capacity to enrage her. Stripped of all liberty he clung to his damned arrogance as a defence. And yes, he’d hit on a truth—she had drawn on a more experienced friend as a source of inspiration. Well what was the point of having shared living-space with a girl who worked part-time as a web-cam dominatrix if you didn’t utilize her knowledge when the right moment came?

Not that Arabella had simply handed her a bunch of second-hand ideas. That same girl had always insisted she should act on her own imagination and not borrow. “You’ve got a very dirty mind,” her friend told her one evening of merry alcoholic excess. “If we put our heads together, we could come up with a ridiculously hot sub-dom web show. Bella and Daniella—you could be my delectable pet, feisty and needing a firm hand.”

“God, you’re scaring me!” Daniella laughed, although her unlikely college roommate was arousing her more than a little with the notion.

“We’d collaborate on all the ideas. I could train you up in the art of femdom and then you could lead a session. Fuck, girl, we’d be a sensation.”

“Okay, it does sound like fun when you put it like that.”

“You want to earn proper money now that Daddy has withdrawn all the funds, right?”

“Yes, but that’s not quite what I had in mind. Tell you what, I’ll think about it.”

She had dismissed her friend’s suggestion as colourful drunken extemporising and almost forgotten that the conversation had ever taken place. But in the middle of her quandary over Eric, on who else’s expertise was she going to call? “I like him, but I want to kick his fucking ass at the same time. I need to do something here, Bella. How should I play this? What am I going to do here?”

“Tell me what you most want to do to him,” her friend had said the previous night, with a drawling phone-voice marked in its contrast to Daniella’s panicked demands.

“I want to tie the bastard up and … and …”

“And what? Tell me. If you want my help, then this has to come from you.”

Everything that was suddenly flashing into her mind Daniella described, with Arabella giving that dirty chuckle of hers in response. “And I’d like you to be witness to it all. Spring a proper surprise on him.”

“Shit, girl, let’s do it. All of it.” They had laughed together in delight.

So the ‘fucker’ in the chair couldn’t legitimately say that anyone else had thought it up. Arabella was moral support and she knew which web-based London sex-toy suppliers were most dependable, but that was the extent of her involvement. Daniella stared at the laptop screen and saw her friend looking back with a grin of sheer pride in her protégé. It was all the additional encouragement she needed.

Flushed with success she indicated her handsome naked prisoner.

“See what he’s like? Can’t take his own medicine.”

“Is he always like this?” Arabella inquired, peering at him out of the laptop screen.

“I haven’t known him long enough. He can be sweet, but he doesn’t like it when he’s not in the driving seat. He likes to play the ‘big man’ all the time.”

“So many of them do. Of course that makes them much more fun to play with.”

“And he’s so presentable-looking.” Daniella ran her fingers about Eric’s chest and circled his nipples with pointed fingertips, so that the shake in his breathing became more pronounced. “Of course he knows it, which makes me want to slap him. Again.” Instead she cradled his jaw in the palm of her hand.

“Oh he’s very pretty, I’ll give him that. Much more your type than mine, but I can appreciate why you enjoy fucking him. I hate it when a guy lets himself go.”

Daniella remembered the contents of the boxful she had ordered and gasped with excitement, moving to where she had left it on his sofa and reaching inside. “You want to see him all slick and shiny?”

Arabella laughed. “I can tell you do, sweetheart. Go on then. Let him have it. I’m sure it’ll make the picture even prettier.”

Daniella observed closely the bottle she had retrieved. “Liquid Silk—water-based and a great skin conditioner,” she read before flipping the cap and sniffing it. “This is perfect.”

“Hit him, girl.”

“Shit, I will.” She inverted the bottle and squeezed, directing a jet of fluid right onto the centre of Eric’s chest. It splashed extravagantly across his torso and neck and she was glad of the decision she had made regarding his sofa and armchair. “It’s okay, babe,” she assured as she commenced to spray silky lubricant over every exposed inch of him, including straight into his wincing face. “I threw old bed-sheets over your soft furnishings. I only want to get this on you.”

“Looks like the stuff they use in that pervy film of his,” Arabella remarked.

“That was the idea. I’m guessing he loves the idea of playing with it, so now’s his chance.” She took careful aim and doused his balls and cock, loving the stifled response he made in his throat. “God, I want to smooth it all over him, make him shiny from top to toe.”

Placing the bottle on the floor beside the water glass she set about his oil-dripping body, massaging from the neck and working her way downwards over tensed chest and stomach. It was a source of deep satisfaction to her, as well as one of considerable aesthetic value, the way his ass rose involuntarily off the seat in response to her gently smoothing hands. Christ, he looked (and felt) so damn gorgeous, with that pelvis humping pointlessly.

“Can you imagine how much he wants you to touch that cock right now?” Arabella taunted.

“I’m imagining quite a bit.” Daniella palmed either side of the great bulging phallus, working the oil into his groin. “More so now, I’m guessing.”

“True. Tell me, Eric, how much do you want her to touch your cock?”

“Fuck off,” he said, his voice distinctly raspy.

Daniella whacked the meat of his upper thigh so hard that she left a print. Oops. “Don’t speak to my friend like that. Show some politeness.”

“Please fuck off,” he said dryly.

“See?” She laughed and kissed his jaw. “Good manners cost nothing and are worth a lot.” She rose and stepped back so that she could survey the glistening result of her labours. The tightly-muscled quality of Eric’s long body was thrown into particularly effective relief by his oiling. “There,” she said, biting her lip in delight she’d never have wanted him to see. “Looks okay, doesn’t he?”

“Passable.” Arabella sounded moderately impressed, but her crooked smile suggested a much more positive reaction to the specimen on display than was being betrayed by her voice.

“Think he should see us, now that we’ve had a good look at him?”

“Your call, babe. Like you said, this is your show—and it’s all good so far.”

Throwing a backward smirk to her on-screen conspirator, Daniella strolled behind Eric, took hold of the sleep-mask and ripped it free of his face. “Nothing like relaxing in your own space on a lazy Sunday, is there?” she said.

~~~~

Eric blinked his way to clear vision. Not much August sunlight was sneaking past the curtain which remained pulled-shut from the previous night, but there was enough to see what alterations Daniella had made to the room. The black leather armchair had been moved along with the coffee table to make space in the centre—for what purpose it was not yet clear. The armchair was close by him on his left, Danielle’s laptop balanced on the nearest arm; further lube-related shenanigans were playing out silently on its screen. The chair to which he had been bound was in front of the sofa, placed similarly as it had done the previous morning when Danielle had been its occupant. To his right was the displaced coffee table on which had been deposited his own laptop. And staring at him insolently from its screen was the extra guest at the party.

“Proper introductions.” Daniella’s hands gently manipulated his neck muscles. “Eric, Arabella. Arabella, Eric.”

“Delighted,” he said, staring grimly at the virtual voyeur. She was an exceedingly dirty kind of attractive—dark wavy hair draped over one half of her face so that she stared through it contemptuously from mascara-laden eyes. Her pendulous tits were slung in a gauzy black basque, a lizard tattoo uncoiling across the right one. The inky creature’s mate appeared to be making its way up her right arm, while a viciously thorny rose-garden had been inked from her left shoulder all the way down to her wrist. ‘Filthy and formidable’ was how he might have described her to a friend, and yes—she would have made his dick hard in her own right had earlier circumstances not already forced it strenuously erect.

“Your girlfriend has got you in a pickle,” the girl said, perching her chin on her propped-up forearm and surveying him with a disdainful curve to her lips. Daniella caressed his scalp through his thick hair. One hand slid all the way down to explore a pectoral muscle, pinching at his nipple once more.

“And you …” He had to catch his breath and refocus to finish the sentence. “And you get to view it all close up. Enjoying yourself?”

“Am I enjoying an arrogant prick get what’s coming to him? Fuck yes. This is the most entertaining Sunday morning I can remember having in a long time.” Her gaze bored into him through the immersive fug of his arousal. “But I’m not enjoying it as much as you, am I Eric?”

“Enjoying? You think I’m enjoying this?” The nails of both Daniella’s hands raked his chest and his vision blurred in reaction, cock experiencing a particularly hard throb. Her tongue traced his jawline and writhed into his ear. Oh Christ. Oh Christ Almighty …

Arabella laughed, a low throaty chuckle. “Think? I know you are, even if you’re too much of a pussy to admit it to yourself. You’re fucking loving it—finally a girl who won’t take any shit from you? If you’re any kind of man, you won’t believe your fucking luck. And look at her …”

“How can I look at her?” he groaned, his head swimming. “She’s behind me.”

“You want to see me?” Daniella’s lips brushed his ear as he spoke.

No … He didn’t think his cock could stand it. And he didn’t want to let her know how much. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I want to see you.”

She stood up, trailing a hand up his forearm as she rose, and walked in her heels to the front of the chair, raising her arms in a gesture of innocent simplicity. “Here I am, Eric. Little old me.”

His jaw dropped and he stared, in danger of drooling cartoon-like onto his chest. Maybe it was a morning’s worth of tease and the cock-ring’s on-going vibrations, but Daniella Blanchford had never looked more mouth-wateringly fuckable than she did now.

The high-heels in which she had impressively been carrying out all operations shoved up her diminutive height a few notches, accentuating and showing off all her fleshy delights. Her curvy body was pale as milk, summer tan darkening her arms and shoulders. She was clad in peach lace—half-cup brassiere snugly caressing those pert mounds, French-cut panties a clinging fit around her gorgeously plump thighs. And she was toying now with the ponytail slung over her shoulder, dark eyes smiling along with her even teeth.

Arabella said it for him. “Not that you’re hard on the eye, Eric, but I could stare at her all damn day. If I were a guy my cock would be at attention, ring or no ring. You must want to fuck the living shit out of her right now.”

“I do.” He breathed it so that neither woman could hear, but everything else about him gave away his concurrence with the sentiment. There was no use in trying to fake nonchalance now. Goddamn it, I do.

“I think you should take that as a big fat ‘yes’,” Arabella said, amusement in her voice.

“Think I can make him want it more?” Daniella kept her gaze fast on Eric as she said it. She moved to her own laptop—the one playing the porno—and halted the movie. “A little something else I lined up while you were asleep. Hang on …”

He held his breath, eyes fixed on the peeking curves of her bubble ass, and watched as her lower half began to twitch to the beats pumping out of the laptop. The tune was instantly recognisable to him—he knew the dark suggestion of Nine Inch Nails’ Closer even before the vocal came in. She flicked her body away from the laptop and walked into the area she had cleared, her ass already swinging in rhythm to the music.

Arabella laughed and clapped her hands. “Bloody well outstanding. Time to reel him in.”

“It’s such a fucking dirty song, isn’t it? I figured you’d like it.” Daniella smiled to her friend. Then she slowed in her movements to focus on Eric. “And you. You know it, right?” Had she guessed his penchant for grinding industrial rock? Or did she simply figure that he’d appreciate a dark nasty song as a striptease accompaniment? Christ, this girl was too damn much to cope with.

He stared avidly through all his ache and torment as she swayed on the spot, palms slinking their way from her thighs to her tits and back, one hand plunging between her legs to glide back and forth over her lace-clad pubic mound. “Thank God I feel so hot,” she said with a breathy laugh. “I’m a crap dancer but right now I just don’t care.”

“You’re sensational,” Arabella told her, and Eric sensed that the tattooed stranger wanted to fuck his girl as much as he did. As much as Trent Reznor did, the girl he was addressing in the song. “You keep on doing what you’re doing.”

Daniella had clearly ascended into some ecstatic zone in which no embarrassment could touch her. Her eyes sealed themselves shut and she snared her bottom lip between her teeth—shit, he loved the way she did that—as she rubbed herself luxuriously through the thin material of her panties. She reached for the scrunchy with which she had tied back her hair and wrenched it off, so that she could fling out her long dark locks and run a hand lovingly through them, letting them tumble and scatter about her shoulders.

Her brassiere was next, hands reaching behind and unclipping neatly, the momentum of her slow dance-moves letting it gradually slip away from her breasts and tumble to the floor. He bit his own lip in savouring those dark-nippled hills, so exquisitely sculpted by nature. When she palmed them and squeezed and tugged on the hard points, he became aware of the longing moan in his throat. She let one hand explore down past her stomach again while the other continued to clutch soft breast-flesh. When her fingers dove this time, he became aware of how saturated her panty-crotch was. He stared as she rubbed, pressing the lace insistently into her slit.

“Goddamn.” It was Arabella once again who vocalised the lust Eric was feeling. “You sure you want me to see all this, babe?”

“Don’t you want to watch?” Daniella moaned, opening her eyes to appeal to her friend, but still enjoying herself in the same rhythmic style.

“Of course I want to. But …”

“Then watch.” Daniella desisted a moment from her self-attentions and strolled flush-faced over to Eric, placing herself between him and the laptop. “Bella’s always had a crush on me,” she told him, a touch breathlessly, “which is damned flattering, since she’s a shit-hot sex goddess, who anyone would be lucky to fuck, man or woman. I’ve always chickened out, but do you know what? If she were here now I’d let her. You hear that, Bella?”

“I hear it, beautiful.”

Daniella thrust her ass in the direction of the screen and peeled away her soaking French-cut lace, so that her other transfixed spectator had a close-up of her ass and pussy. “I’d let her fuck me in front of you, Eric, any way she wanted. I swear to you I would. I’d let her do all the things to me you want to do and I’d make you watch. God, I’m going to fall on my face if I’m not careful.” The panties were lowered to mid-thigh and she made her way right to Eric’s seat, choking back a giggle, before leaning on the chair-back and starting to remove them. “Damned heels. Almost a step too far.” He simply stared, transfixed by her all but clean-waxed pussy, as she negotiated herself free of the lacy garment. “There. That’s better. Don’t you think?”

He let his eyes roam all five foot two of near-edible naked beauty. In the circumstances it was a type of masochism. “I … “I …”

“What are you trying to say, babe? What was that? You all out of words? Then taste me instead.” She reached towards him with her cunt-sodden panties and when she went to push them into his mouth, he let her. There was no point doing anything else. The lace was heavy with her juice and its musky essence was potent on his tongue. He could smell her wet arousal from where she stood. Her thighs were glistening with it.

“Spit that out and I’ll slap you again. Then I’ll stuff them back in and hold them in place with one of your silk ties, okay?” Daniella threw a cheeky glance back to her friend. “That little development is at least partially for you, Bella.”

“I love it. I much prefer him that way—all vision and no sound.” Her friend grinned slyly at her. “And you look as beautiful as I’d always imagined, Dani.”

“God … I’ve been teasing you as much as him. That really wasn’t my intention.” Daniella sounded genuinely remorseful and a little abashed to be standing stark naked in front of her friend.

“It’s okay, babe. Truly it is.” There was warmth and pride in the Skype-girl’s face that melted away all her irony, at least for a moment. “I wouldn’t have missed out on this for the world. But much as it pains me to say this, maybe it’s time you shut me down and got on with whatever else you’ve got planned.”

“Not yet. One more treat first?”

“Go on then, indulge me.” Arabella’s grin was broad and lascivious. “Since I might never get to see this again …”

Daniella turned and Eric’s neck craned as her apple-round ass disappeared from his view. She returned a moment later gripping an impressively sized dildo. It was strikingly accurate facsimile of a circumcised cock—thick and intricately veined—although it was also purple with a suction cup at the end. Arabella was laughing an outrageous dirty laugh as Daniella retrieved the lube bottle from where she had set it and anointed her new toy along its length.

“Okay,” she said as she set down the bottle and spread lube all over the shaft. Eric could hear a sudden shake in her voice. “I’m just going to get on with this before I chicken out.” She shoved the laptop further back on the coffee table so Arabella still had a view, then on a second thought picked up the device and set it on Eric’s lap before his balls, so that the screen faced her. Clutching the shaft of the fake cock, she planted it firmly on the lacquered surface of the coffee table. “There.” It stood where it had been placed, thrusting up in readiness.

Eric achieved new levels of erectile astonishment. Before his gaze Daniella positioned herself either side of the waiting phallus and brought herself down to meet it. The table was high and solid enough for her to plant herself squarely on the big synthetic fuck-shaft. It penetrated her easily, so wet was she from all the teasing of her naked boy-toy and from Arabella’s lascivious scrutiny, but she gasped at the stretching nonetheless. “Oh God, that’s big.”

The bulbous head and thick shaft took some managing, and she tensed her jaw as it slid snug against her inner walls. A slow up-and-down manoeuvring was required, the slow wet friction clearly blissful to her, until finally on the fourth or fifth attempt she succeeded in taking it all inside herself. Thighs tensed, hands clutching the table edge, she began to fuck herself properly on the thing, face-on to both Eric and Arabella. She pumped herself on it some moments, taking the dildo inside with ease, losing herself to the outrageousness of her erotic performance. Still gripping the table with one hand, she reached down and frigged herself vigorously, burning with need to get herself off.

“Shit, girl, do it.” There was fever in Arabella’s voice and Eric had no doubt that the tattooed dominatrix was abandoning herself to lust in some similar fashion.

“With me,” Daniella panted. “With me, Bella.”

“Fucking right I’m with you. God, girl, you fucking astonish me.”

Eric languished as his clearly demented lover bounced on the great cock, her slutty moans of enjoyment mingling with those coming from the laptop. Their cries of excitement grew together, Arabella sounding forth with the kind of filth she probably reserved for customers. “Fuck it, girl, that’s it—fuck that thing.”

“I’d let you do it,” Daniella responded. “I’d let you stick it in me.”

“I fucking will. If that asshole doesn’t treat you right, you can come to me for comfort. I’ll supply it, okay? I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

“I’ll let you. I swear I’ll fucking let you.” Daniella ravished her own cunt, tits undulating, hair flicking all about her, fingers fast on her clitoris.

The all-girl frenzy of moans and hot fuck-talk spiralled, sublimely filthy, until Daniella peaked and her whole body seemed to fry with orgasm. Arabella was not far behind, whatever the damned girl was doing to herself. Eric’s hands were jolting spontaneously and uselessly against his bonds, such was the desperation to join in the communal wank-session. His frustrated moans were muffled by his gag and drowned by the girls’ joint ecstasy.

Vaguely he was aware of Daniella’s body going slack. Arabella was still groaning in his lap while her masturbatory companion eased herself stickily from the well-used dildo, kicked off her high heels and stumbled back to him. “You okay?” How rich that the question was not directed at him. He was surely the least okay person in the whole apartment block at that moment.

Arabella laughed a raucous and filthy laugh. “Never fucking better, sweetheart.”

Daniella lifted the laptop and kissed the screen. “Thank you. I need to do the rest of this on my own now.”

“I understand. Let me say one last thing to him.”

“Sure.”

Daniella spun the laptop around so that Arabella could stare over his pulsing cock up into his face. She looked more flustered than earlier, but still scornful. “Look, Eric, she likes you and she’s a smart girl, so you must have something going for you other than looking okay. But if you treat her badly, you’ll have me to reckon with. And I know exactly what I’ll do with that dildo. Get me?”

Eric threw a despairing “Get her away from me” glance to Daniella and smiling she relented, flipping it about again.

“Bye, Bella,” she said, winking at the screen. “Thanks. I’ve got this now.”

It was a vast relief to see the laptop snapped shut, but Eric knew it was only one problem solved. The girl he had briefly thought was the catalyst had been no more than a mouthy spectator. Daniella, as she set the laptop aside and turned back to him, was the real mistress of the situation and he had lost all notion of how that situation should be played. Even if his mouth had been empty, he had no longer any idea what the fuck he should say.

~~~~

Daniella set Eric’s laptop back on the coffee table with a greater clatter than she’d intended. Her legs were wobbly, more so than they’d been when she was wearing heels. Orgasm had knocked her off balance and with the departure of her audience she felt all kinds of naked. She didn’t even have musical cover, the Nine Inch Nails track having finished some minutes since.

Eric was staring at her, his panty-stuffed mouth rendering his expression less easy to read. Maybe he was simply wrung out. Maybe he was appalled at her and the stunts she had pulled so far. Should she care? Hell no. He had sprung plenty of surprises on her over two days. But her hastily constructed plan had taken on a momentum of its own once Arabella showed up and Eric had got lippy. She’d behaved in ways of which she never dreamed herself capable; how she would react to her roommate next time they met was only one of her issues. However there was no moving into reverse gear now. To let embarrassment show in anything she did or said would be to humiliate herself in front of her innately cock-sure lover. On with the games, even as her thighs quivered from the orgasmic aftermath.

She sat down on the edge of the table beside the well-fucked dildo, crossing her legs in a moment of demureness at odds with her lewd performance on top of it. “Look at it,” she said, taking hold of the great gel cock and plucking it from the varnished surface with a loud suction pop. “It’s all juicy from me. Want a lick?” She’d started playing the porn slut, so best stay in role.

Eric’s eyes what could have been fascination, horror or a combination of both, as she proffered him the girl-slimed fuck-toy. “No? Okay.” She’d pushed him far enough outside his comfort zone. Instead she teased beneath the crown of the replica dick with her own tongue, reclining casually on the table as she did so and eyeing him with slutty innocence. She sucked and swirled on the head a moment, then with a deep breath went for broke and swallowed as much of the thick purple shaft as she was able (which was most, she’d had two days’ good training with the real thing), holding his gaze the whole time.

The impulse to gag came upon her and she made a wet reversal off the rubber column, resisting the impulse. She repeated the manoeuvre and got even more of the cock down her throat this time, coming off it with a reinforced sense of her own bad-ass bitch credentials and the urge to grin at him again. The purple impaler was drooling with her spit and she lapped up all the saliva with a victorious tongue.

Clutching the base like she had an Oscar statuette in her grip she rose from the table and padded barefoot over to him, butt-naked and proud of having nailed another scene. The suction end of the dildo she stamped down onto the chair in between the fork of his thighs, so that it wobbled upright like it was his reserve cock. “There,” she said, sliding palms either side of the original one and feeding off the hazy desire that shone in his eyes. “I’ll be needing another filling before this is done, so that’s my standby.”

To know a man’s turn-ons was to know his points of weakness, should they be required. Assured that Eric was beyond breaking his gaze even should he try, Daniella reached down and picked up the still half-full lube bottle. Her moment of crisis post-Arabella had passed and an Amazonian strength of belief was upon her. She was ready for the end-game.

On a sudden impulse, lest her confidence get the better of her, she checked around the back of the chair. Despite the rawness of Eric’s wrists, her knots were holding firm. Good sense smacked down the glimmer of compassion she felt at his chafing. There was no room here for any ‘poor Eric’ thoughts. She resumed her taunting smile and paced back around to the chair’s front. His head was starting to droop, but his gaze held. “So what have you got to say for yourself right now, I wonder …” She needed to try and gauge his current mood and in pursuit of that knowledge she leaned in, nipped the protruding panties between her teeth and plucked them from his mouth. Pinching the sodden lace between finger and thumb she trailed it the length of his constrained cock and observed his whole body bridle in response.

“How’re you bearing up, sweetheart?”

His breathing came in shreds, his voice constricted and grating. It had a grim humour nonetheless. “You really know how to play hardball, you little bitch.”

“I do,” she said softly. “But you haven’t seen it yet. Let me show you ‘hardball’.”

TO BE CONTINUED