Reese Gabriel - Captured!--On Film

On her belly. Her thighs. Even her pussy.

"You will watch as I possess Grigori,” Giovanni informed her, tapping one nipple after another. “Than you will please us both, restoring our erections with your mouth and hands. You will do so knowing you will be had, by both of us at once."

She moaned, arching her back. The words, coming to her helpless ears sounded so deeply perverted, almost like a whip unto themselves. This combined with the sensations of what he was doing with the flogger was turning her into a hot, blonde, panting bitch, the very stereotype she and all her other serious minded sisters fought against.

Humiliated, unable to help herself, Julie thrust out her chest, craving another strike, harder, faster. “That feels so fucking…"

She didn't have a word for the sensations he was giving her. Instead she offered a deep groan as the flogger claimed her tits once more. It was a maddening device, not powerful enough to break skin or cause serious wounding, but strong enough to put a woman into another world, a wicked, forbidden one.

"There will be no camera to hide behind,” said Ambrosiano, snapping at her belly through the silk. “Your performance will be with your body alone."

"Yes,” she hissed, the flogger whistling in the air, kissing her body, like a demonic lover. “Oh, god, yes."

If she could she would tear off the negligee, giving him her bare skin to work over. She wanted to feel more. She wanted to be whipped till she was red skinned then made to crawl to the men, servicing their cocks, making them hard, as ordered so she could accept the consequences, surrendering to them both, in whatever orifices they wanted her.

"This next part will be torment,” Giovanni promised. “You will be kept aroused and not satisfied. You will writhe and whimper, but you will be allowed to do nothing but watch. This is your incentive. It will insure your eagerness later on."

"I want to be good,” Julie promised as he rubbed the flogger gently over her cheek.

This submissive talk was making her hot. Just as hot as what he was doing to her body.

"Open,” he commanded, reversing the flogger so that the handle was facing her.

Julie took the end of the pseudo phallus into her mouth through lips already half opened. It tasted of leather, oiled and exotic. Shamelessly, she yielded to it, letting the man know what she would do if given a chance on his cock. He pushed it deep, making her suck long and hard.

"Look at me, Julie."

She could hardly stand to. The way he looked at her, the way she saw herself in his eyes made her want to come so, so badly. He was not touching her pussy and yet something so much deeper was happening. He was having her, taking her somewhere very, very intimate.

"You are going to be the best sex I have ever had in my life,” he told her.

She flushed from the whorish praise.

"You are one of the fiercest fires, and therefore channeled, you will be an exquisite blaze.” He took the handle from her mouth and thrust it between her legs, pushing the silk between her lips. “Come,” he ordered, casually but uncompromisingly.

Julie pushed against the object, masturbating herself, desperate, hungry, half out of her mind, nipples burning, her body indeed like a crackling, incendiary blaze.

"Faster. You have to the count of ten."

She squirmed so as to make contact with her clit directly, the motions sending fierce shivers up and down her spine. It was so degrading, being treated like this, and yet she had never been wetter in her life or more fulfilled. The man was owning her, totally and completely dominating her spirit even as he unleashed it.

"Three,” he said, holding the handle still and making her do all the work.

Julie clenched her teeth.

"Four. Five.” Giovanni turned his head to Grigori, snapping out a command in Dasklovian she could not follow.

The man obeyed instantly going immediately onto the bed on all fours, his head down. Julie felt it on the horizon, the point of no return, the crest of the mountain she must peak to reach her goal … his goal. The sight of the Dasklovian this way, about to surrender himself was just the added boost she needed. Giovanni did not have to go past seven. Right through the nightgown, she gave it up for him, the stain on the front of it spreading rapidly as she yielded up her fragrant liquid essence.

Soon Grigori would give it up, too. And she would watch.

Her orgasm was layered, Technicolor slices, one upon the other, juicy, delicious, mouth-melting. Her limbs pulled at her bonds. She was prisoner, slave of the Director's whims, but freed to soar to the height of his butterfly world to come and come and come. She screamed out this truth and moaned it and whimpered too. In the end, though, it was moonlight she returned to. In the bedroom of a long dead prince, two naked, beautiful men with her for a night of delights. Teasing tortures, and after that, she hoped, climaxes beyond her wildest dreams.

Giovanni had her lick clean the whip handle. “Now,” he told her, “it is Grigori's turn."

Julie licked her parched lips, watching him move to the bed like a panther. The Dasklovian was breathing heavily as Giovanni went to him. The Maestro teased him, dragging the black leather tassels over his back and ass. A tap to his cheek and he lifted his head. Julie bit her lip. It was Grigori's turn to suck. Giovanni made him take it deeper than her, expecting immediate deep throating. The big man's eyes slid closed in lust. He was more than ready to take inside his mouth this leather that must surely smell and taste of Julie herself.

"He is a magnificent animal, is he not?” Giovanni asked her. “You would gladly collar and own him for yourself, I have no doubt."

Julie felt a fresh tide between her legs at the raunchy idea. It was true, she did want him, totally and completely, all for herself.

Reaching around, Giovanni smacked Grigori's ass. Grigori jolted, redoubling his sucking efforts. Julie could see how swollen the Dasklovian's cock was, full and reddish purple and swaying very slightly as it moved. His testicles were full again, too, more so now than ever. Such a pity, she thought, to let such manhood go to waste. If she had her way she'd be underneath him, quietly licking the vein on the underside, delicately taking each of his balls in her mouth one at a time till he cried out in sweet pleasure. But she wasn't in charge, was she?

Giovanni was, and there was no telling what a man like him could have in mind for the night ahead. At the present he was leaning over whispering things in Grigori's ears, spanking him hard at the same time. Grigori gurgled, the whip in his mouth, his body writhing. He was turned on, that was for sure.

"I told him he will take me in his ass. He will be fucked at my leisure like a … what is the term in English?"

"Like a bitch,” she whispered hotly. “You are going to make him your bitch."

"Yes,” he nodded, “that is it."

Giovanni repeated the new word to the Dasklovian, chuckling slightly. Grigori drew a deep breath, making Julie shiver with need. Oh, how she wanted to be touching him now, feeling his skin, his pulse, cooling and soothing and inflaming and a million other contradictory things.

Giovanni took the whip out now, wiping it dry on the man's thick mane of hair, glorious and blacker than any midnight. Grigori arched his neck, mouth open, his body clearly yearning for some new stimulation, abuse even to end the sudden emptiness.

The man did not have to wait long. The time had come for an honest to goodness ass whipping at the hands of the Maestro. He teased him first, rubbing the tip of it over his muscular behind and flanks, making him hold perfectly still as he grazed the edges of his puckered asshole. Two times Grigori was told to spread his legs wider. The erection between them looked ready to explode any second. Julie was sure the semen would erupt with the speed of a machine gun.