Meryl Lee - The younger the better

"I can't… oh, I can't stand the feel… it's so nice…" wailed Pammy, writhing to her back before an astonished Bryan, almost in the grip of her own climax.

Somehow, some way, the girls – now even Mrs. Pritchard could only be thought of as girl – shed their panties and to his disbelieving eyes, tumbled and tangled in a luscious bundle of female flesh. No words, only panting and groaning as they spread the residue of his ejaculation on the others' bodies, then wriggled wildly in their own self-stimulation.

Uncomprehending, but captivated, Bryan watched an old patchwork quilt he hadn't noticed before twist and bunch under the interwoven legs and arms.

It was Pammy's sex center, facing directly toward him in the midst of sunshiny pink flesh, that caught his attention. The girl was possessed as she drove two, then three long, lovely fingers into herself. He gawked in fascination. Not only was it his first time to watch a female stimulate herself, it was his first close view of a girl's most personal self.

Denise Pritchard swirling out of the clouds of her own erotic self-play, saw his fixed gaze on her daughter's aunt and knew. Bryan Archer Quinby never had seen a female like this before. It was a crazy/wonderful opportunity.

"Show him, Pammy," she hissed. "Let him see your pretty love trigger."

As though hypnotized, the fingers stroked open the labial gates and exposed the nubbin of the girl's clitoris. Taut and trembling, sheathed in its darkish almond-shaped cover, the clit stood proudly. Pammy attacked it savagely with her fingers. In wild surrender to her sensations she let go, writhing and arching. Lifting her nubile figure in a crescent from the barn floor, she let Bryan watch her climax.

And then it was done. The girls lay in a breathless tangle of happy bodies, staring up at a still roped Bryan.

"You are bothered again!" Mrs. Pritchard accused, glaring meaningfully at his groin. "It's just as the girls said. You haven't any limit."

"Yeah… hey, lemme down…" he begged.

"You are to be tied a prisoner till we are through with you or till you die. Do you hear me, Bryan Quinby? You are our sex slave and you are the tool for my daughters' learning."

"Hey… look, Missus."

She waved imperiously to her daughters and on pre-arranged signal they cut him down from his suspension and dragged him to the strange appearing wheel she had been working on when he arrived.

He made no resistance, too enthralled by the feel of warm hands clutching under his arms and the delicious rub of hips and boobs against his body as they dragged him. "What's this thing?"

"This ancient water wheel, dear boy, is your sex torture rack. Strap him to it, girls." Denise pointed to the oak-planked barrel-shaped rack.

The girls dragged his naked form, still bound, still fiercely aroused, to the step-up onto the formidable Middle Ages-looking instrument of torture. Abruptly Pammy broke away to run to a wall closet.

"What are you doing?" It was obvious from Denise's question that this wasn't part of the plan.

Silence answered for long seconds while the twin busied herself, back to the others. Then she turned and walked slowly and purposefully toward her mother, wearing a long silver fox neckpiece and carrying a cat-o'-nine tails in each hand.

"Whatever…"

"Mutiny, mother. That's whatever. Your lovin' daughters have decided to take over their own education and use you and Bryan here to get the answer." Pammy tossed a thin thonged whip to Sandy.

"See, we read this neat old-fashioned sex torture bit in your hope chest, Mommy. Venus In Furs. All about how men and girls go nutty to whipping while they think about sex. So we're going to do that on you and prove something about Bryan. Get her, Sandy."

A squealing, but not too violently protesting Denise, was dragged unceremoniously over the carpeted step-up, past a boggle-eyed Bryan. Her nude wantonness looked deliciously fragile in the grasp of two determined daughters. He never had been aware before of the predatory nature of the female. Now, seeing their glittering stares at his hard-on as they brushed past him, Bryan knew he was to be center stage before long. It was frightening and alluring, at the same time.

"Mommy, it's sinful for you to be so stinking beautiful at your age!" stormed Pammy, dragging one of Denise's arms high over her head and to the side, to be held in the wrist trap of the rack.

"Sandra, you're hurting my ankle!" Denise strained furiously against her ankle and wrist snares, but obviously enjoyed her captivity.

At the side wheel control, Pammy ignored cries to be careful and cranked the ratchet to bend her mother's body to a deep arch. Spreadeagled, her sleekly tanned arms and legs wide stretched and torso convexed, Denise's already outspoken breasts were now an explosive display, leaping from her chest as though trying to separate from her body. Low on her tummy her vee mound was an urgent hillock of wanting.

From his crouch against the steps, Bryan felt the heady delirium of the sensuality. The girls, high heeled and nude, except for the fur neckpieces that reached nearly to the floor, now circled their prisoner warily. The tables were turned and the unexpected had taken command.

Splaaatt!

The deviling sting of the cat o' nine tails laid impudently across Denise's bared front, forcing a reflex to its nerve-tingling slap. Just enough bite to the thin strands to evoke a sizzling erotic response deep inside Denise's hyper-sexed frame.

"Girls! Please… you must know what you're…"

"We do," crowded a triumphant Pammy laying on stroke after stroke of the love whip. "We've seen you through the tiny peep hole we made into your room. You love it from your men. Do girls turn you on, too?"

"Ahhhh… oh, do it! Harder!" whimpered Denise, her body a cacophony of sex chaos, the gorgeous muscles that knit her trapped torso together straining against the whips. "Some one please, anyone… love me while I die!"

It was the need in her mother's voice that tore Sandy's will to punish her more. With a little cry of desperation, she flung herself past Bryan on the steps and fell across Denise's sleek legs. "I'll protect you against that old whip!" she screamed, burrowing eagerly into the valley between the sleekly molded thighs and kissing frantically along the inner muscle till she came to where the magic was.

"Ohhh, Pammy… you're right… Pammy, she's sweet as honey."

"Traitor!" shrilled Sandy's twin, strutting in intriguing display of nudity in witch heat. Pammy's red hair was in flaming disarray, breasts high borne, thrusting through the silver-gray fur piece, body proud as she pranced to accent impudent buttocks and gorgeous legs. "I shall punish you both, then!"

Pammy circled the embracing pair, whip flailing but only intensifying Sandy's passion at Denise's pussy center. Arriving at the steps where a naked and feverishly aroused Bryan crouched watching, Pammy sprawled in nude voluptuosity across his bound form, grinding warm curves against his trembling frame as she whipped at the two above them.

"You better get ready, big cock!" she hissed in his ear. "You're next!"

"Hey… geez, lemme outta this!" howled Bryan, panicked by the desire driving his thoughts and his awareness of his naivete in lovemaking. Pammy's lush female wonders seemed to envelope him as she wriggled and squirmed across his taut torso while striking at the others. In one frenzied twist she had him driven back against the steps, his cock caught between her thighs so close to her crotch he could feel the heat. He barely extricated before his orgasm build-up began.

"Those crazies!" screeched Pammy. "They're both coming from whip whoopee!"

It wasn't from the whip nearly as much as Sandy's busy lips on Denise's cunty cleft. Her tongue spearing through the palpitating quim, stirred the tumid clit and the climax that stormed Denise swept Sandy simultaneously. No neophyte to lesby play, Sandy knew the way to prolong girl-to-girl orgasm. Nights with her twin, as they lay planning their someday love life, had taught her the play ways with another female.