Copyright 2017 Matt Nicholson. All rights reserved.
Disclaimer – This is a story about two women who play fast and hard. “Hard” meaning just that. The BDSM might be a little rougher than some people prefer, or it might not. It depends on your tastes. I just wanted to make sure you were warned. No sense getting bad ratings from people who prefer romance and a little light flogging to the more rough and tumble stuff if you can avoid it, after all. In any case, please let me know what you think. Best! ~Matt~
*****
Arin Jefferson, known to most of the world as “Charity DeSade,” lay naked across the brown, brushed leather couch in her fourth weekend home’s media room with her bare feet propped on the sofa’s arm. Her latest concert played on the 103″ plasma TV. Music blared through the room’s dozen or so speakers with the excited sounds of the crowd muted in the background. She’d long since stopped watching herself and her other band members. She preferred instead to watch the four women off to the sides of the stage.
All four were dressed the same. Skimpy black pasties barely covered their nipples. Equally skimpy black thong bikinis exposed just enough of their shaved pussy lips to make her mouth water. Spiked leather collars gave them the whole slave vibe. And black, leather, platform heels made their perfect, long legs look even longer.
Two of the girls twirled suede leather floggers. The other two drooled around glowing ball gags, their wrists manacled high over their heads to glittering poles and their legs spread wide with matching ankle spreaders. Their skin was decorated with pink lines where the suede straps had already touched. Whether the floggers wrapped around their nearly naked bottoms or their heavy breasts, both bound women writhed energetically, making sure the crowd got an eyeful of wildly bouncing boobs and curvaceous, jiggling bottoms.
As the concert continued its frantic pace, the perfectly paced close-ups showed their curvy flesh becoming increasingly red. By the time Arin’s recorded self bounced across the stage in her tight leather hot pants and vest and snatched a flogger from one of the lady punisher’s hands, both the bound women’s best parts were covered in crimson lash marks. She slowed the playback down and dropped the remote beside her. Then she slid one hand up her belly to her breast, tweaking a nipple while her other hand found her clit.
What had started out as a sideshow gimmick had become Arin’s favorite part of the show, and she always looked forward to treating the audience to a frenzied three minutes of lashing that left the tied women thrashing, their chests and backsides lashed so thoroughly they’d bruise. Arin always tossed the whip into the stands before she danced back to her guitar to blow the crowd out of the auditorium with an epic finale. They had no idea how much will it took for her to leave the flogging behind.
The on-stage BDSM may not have been quite as controversial as biting off bats’ heads or satanic rituals, but the whole girl on girl sadomasochistic thing certainly turned heads and drew crowds. Once her road manager figured out which cities would ban them and which wouldn’t, it was just a matter of figuring how long the girls took to recover and finding enough of them to rotate from show to show. At the moment, she had nine on the payroll. She just needed one more to fill out her “harem,” as everyone called it.
“Harem” was a bit of an overstatement. It wasn’t that she went to bed with them all. There were a couple that got the gig in other ways, but – by and large – there weren’t many of them she didn’t “interview” first. The job was to be tied up nearly naked and flogged in front of tens and thousands of people, after all – and that wasn’t counting the recordings and broadcasts. Most of them expected, and even wanted, the chance to play in Charity DeSade’s bed. Even so, the turnover rate was high enough that she seldom tried any girl more than once. It was better that way.
She glanced down from the massive screen. Not bothering to let go of her breast, she checked the time on her Feldo. If this evening was true to form, the chimes would ring within moments and the groupie-of-the-day – chosen from the usual crowd of back stage admirers – would stroll in wearing nothing but the fur coat Arin had draped over her shoulders four hours earlier. They’d let word get out that she always gave one lucky “admirer” a fur coat after each concert as an invitation to interview. What “word” hadn’t mentioned was what they usually had to do to get the job.
Almost on cue, the rich-sounding door chime rang. Arin smiled to herself as she punched off the TV, and shifted on the sofa. Recalling the pretty face, long blonde hair, athletic body and luscious, fat tits that were about to come through the door, she shook her shoulder length blonde hair back and licked her lips. She wondered how this one would react when she saw Arin naked on the couch, then she thought for a second about the ways her newest prospect might earn a spot on the pole.
“Come in . . .” She looked at the name scrawled in smeared ballpoint ink across her palm, “. . . Trina. It’s open.”
As the door latch clicked and the door started to swing open, she licked the smeared ink and wiped her hand several times across the back of the couch, eradicating Trina’s name. She smiled as the other woman pushed the door closed behind her. As instructed, she wore just the fur. She still had the thin, silver, lip ring that caught Arin’s attention earlier. With one piercing there were usually others, and most women that had multiple piercings liked to play rough. It was that promise that led her to give Trina the nod over a hot little Hispanic brunette with mountainous tits that would have been heaven to flog.
Arin beckoned the girl forward. When the pretty little groupie got close enough, Arin reached towards a nearby end table and picked up a pink wine glass she’d filled with a fruity 1982 rose. With a slow glance at Arin’s naked body, Trina took the extended glass and looked around at the surprisingly austere decor before sipping.
“Nice place. Come here often?”
The rocker smiled at her guest’s casual tone. She’d seen the way the girl’s eyes had hovered over all the right places. She gestured toward the burning fireplace. Even though both women were naked, or nearly so, there was no way she couldn’t have known Arin’s intentions. That said, she seemed completely calm and ready to play. If Trina had any clue what Arin was thinking, Arin wondered if she would have been so casual. Regardless, if all went as planned – as it almost always did – they’d have the entire weekend to play. Even if Trina caved after just one evening, “Charity DeSade” had a hell of an evening planned.
“Sit down. Get comfortable.”
Trina shrugged out of the coat and let it slide down her arms to the floor as if it was nothing more than a K-Mart special. A ring hung from Trina’s right nipple, just as Arin had expected.
Trina watched Arin’s gaze travel from her long, silken hair; over her full, white, breasts’ lightly jiggling curves, around her freshly-shaved pussy, and down her lithe legs. Once Arin had taken in the view, Trina knelt gracefully in front of the fireplace. She took a longer sip of wine before setting the glass on the red brick stoop. Arin caught a quick glimpse of thin, pink folds peeking from between the taller woman’s fatter ones. Trina’s eyes lit with mischief as she crossed her legs and leaned forward on her hands.
Making certain her unspoiled breasts – the only parts of her that hadn’t been touched by the sun – swayed tantalizingly, she looked up at the rock star. “So, are you going to tie me up and whip me now, or did you want to fuck first?”
Arin blinked. “Say what?”
Trina laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound, full of playfulness and promise. “We both know I’m here so I can say I fucked Charity DeSade. And, you invited me here so you can add me to the list of women who have danced on the end of your whip. It’s all about bragging rights and conquest, or we wouldn’t be naked already. I just thought you might want to skip the chit-chat and spice this interview up a little.”
It was Arin’s turn to laugh. Since they were being candid, she pulled a length of white nylon rope from beneath the seat cushion. She hadn’t expected to need it for a while, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Who says all I’m gonna do is whip you?”
She stood and walked towards Trina. She stretched the rope with an intimidating pop and looked pointedly at the other woman’s boobs. “Lots of women want this job. What are you willing to do to get it?”
Trina smiled knowingly. She held her wrists out and pressed them together to make Arin’s job easy. “Whatever you want.” It sounded like a dare.
Arin’s smile echoed Trina’s as she quickly wrapped the extended wrists very securely. Once she was done, her guest slid forward on her hands and arched catlike to her knees. She drew her wrists up between Arin’s bare thighs and teased the inside lower curves of her bottom with her thumbnails. Her lips found Arin’s pussy. As the pads of her thumbs closed on the lower reaches of Arin’s labia, she breathed. Her hot breath flowed over the warm, wet folds ahead of it. Arin closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of her nipples getting harder. Trina’s mouth pressed in.
Arin forced herself to look down through half-lidded eyes. Trina looked mischievous as she mouthed Arin’s pussy and breathed more warmth over it. The girl’s silky hair draped down her back. Her smooth calves and bare feet extended behind the inviting curves of her bottom. When she saw Arin watching, her lips curved into a wicked smile. She arched her back and pushed away to revealed more of her round, bare rear.
Arin always played her scenes out, but Trina was doing a good job of breaking her resolve. Imagining the other woman’s tongue working her, Arin slid her hands up her ribs and squeezed her breasts until they just started to ache. Then she twisted her nipples until a flash of pain shot back through them. Trina was grinning up at her like a Cheshire cat with a look of triumph in her eyes.
Thinking she’d taken control, the groupie stretched out with the intent of rolling onto her back. Growing passion or not, Arin’s determination came back. She never let anyone else control her. She forced a frown and shook her head. “Oh, no! I have other plans for you.”
Before Trina could react, Arin leapt and caught Trina by the wrists. Off balance, the other woman fell onto her knees and staggered forward. Charity DeSade backed down the short hallway to the “guest” bedroom, pulling Trina by the wrists so she shuffled along on her knees behind her. Though she might have lost her lead, Trina’s eyes still danced. She made she each jerky movement bobble her tits hard.
When Arin noticed the bemused look on her “victim’s” face, she hauled her not too gently to her feet and pushed her backward. Trina landed with a hard thud on a padded chair at the foot of an elaborate, hand-wrought, four-poster bed.
“For someone that’s in the hands of a perfect stranger, you’re acting pretty confident.”
Trina shrugged, a tantalizing gesture given the size of her breasts. She held her bound hands close to her belly and her arms tightly against her sides as Arin started to wrap her into the chair with another length of the same rope.
“Why shouldn’t I be? ‘Charity DeSade’ won’t ruin her future for one piece of ass. This is going to be fun.”
Her condescending tone struck a nerve, spurring Arin to take handfuls both Trina’s pallid breasts and squeeze them hard. The violent movement shook Trina forward. A quiet exclamation blew through the girl’s lips before she could stop it. Once the surprise had faded, however, Trina pushed her tits into Arin’s hands and smiled. A similar thin smile spread across Arin’s lips.
Now confident she was safe playing hard, she took the woman’s left nipple between her fingers. While looking her in the eyes, she twisted and squeezed the delicate flesh. When Trina met her gaze with one of defiance, Arin pinched it harder and rolled it without regard to any pain she might be causing. While deciding exactly what she was going to do next, Arin listened to Trina try to breathe through the pain and enjoyed the thick, rubbery feel of the girl’s tender flesh crushing in her fingertips.
“Maybe I’m not willing to ruin my future, but I’m damn sure willing to pit my word against the word of some groupie wannabe to make sure I get that fur coat’s worth of fun.” In order to make her point, she snagged the nipple ring. “I’m willing to bet I can ruin something of yours for enough money.” To make her point, she yanked and twisted.
Trina sucked a deep breath, but instead of crying out or complaining, she shifted forward, trying to grind her bare crotch against the chair’s red felt upholstery.
Her voice was husky, teasing. “Maybe. But wouldn’t it be more fun to, say…” Her gaze fell on her left nipple, now fully erect and surrounded by a wide circle of tight, dark wrinkles and bumps. “…pierce the other side?”
Arin did her best not to act surprised at the blatant invitation. Trina had no idea what Arin might do – or use – in reply. She felt her own nipples give her away, becoming just as tight as her guest’s at the thought. She tried to make her laugh sound condescending, and she forced nonchalance into her step as she turned away and strolled to a nearby dresser.
Knowing the other woman was watching her every move, Arin gave up on wiping off the moisture that threatened to trickle from between her tingling pussy lips. Instead, she pulled a large, stainless steel safety pin from inside a drawer. By the time she returned to Trina, she’d popped it open. Holding the sharp, gleaming tip menacingly so there was no doubt what she had in mind for the un-pierced nipple, Arin smiled.
“I’ll take your bet and double it.”
She took the undecorated nub between her fingers and tugged. Trina surprised Arin yet again by snapping at the tip of her host’s breast as if she was trying to bite her nipple. She missed by hardly an inch. It was all Arin could do not to push her nipple into the woman’s warm mouth. Instead, she burrowed her fingertips into Trina’s warm, fat flesh. The feeling combined with the view to make her pussy clenched and start to tingle.
Trina laughed again and pushed her trapped breast into Arin’s hand. “Go for it. That coat’s pockets will hold a lot of money.”
Arin shifted her grip to the bottom of Trina’s nipple. She hesitated only long enough to make sure Trina watched before she dragged the sharp end of the safety pin across the base of the trapped nub. By the time the pin caught between two tight wrinkles, Arin held her breath. Looking at the tip’s location as the perfect place to start, Arin took a long breath, calming herself. In the three years since she’d been a sensation, she’d done a lot of crazy things and had a lot of crazy sex, but she’d never done anything this crazy, or gotten this horny, this fast.
She started to push. “Lucky for me, I have lots of money to fill them with.”
For several seconds, Trina’s skin refused to yield. Her eyelids fluttered and her breathing became faster as Arin pressed harder. The nipple was tougher than Arin expected – or the pin wasn’t as sharp as she’d thought. In either case, she pinched and pushed harder. Trina groaned as the pain got worse, then she gasped when the pin finally popped through. When Arin worked it deeper into her nipple, the gasp morphed into a barely controlled moan.
After a few seconds, Arin was so horny she consider forgetting foreplay entirely once the safety pin was latched. Determined to draw it out, she straddled one of Trina’s legs and lowered herself until her wet pussy crushed on the pretty woman’s knee. Then, grinding in a slow roll, she gradually pushed the sharp steel through the trapped nipple.
She let the pain get more severe until the skin on the opposite side started to stretch. When it did, Trina’s moan became more desperate. It wasn’t until Arin gave the pin a final shove and the safety pin’s tip popped out that Trina cried out. Arin centered the violated nipple down the length of the pin and latched it. She’d never done anything that made her so excited. Desperate to find an excuse to get away long enough to finger herself back into control, she gave it a brutal twist and stood up.
“I’ll give you some time to get used to your new jewelry.” She was gone before Trina could gather enough breath to reply.
Once Arin got out of the room and out of sight, she fell backward against the wall and started mauling her left breast. She stuck two fingers as deep inside herself as she could. While tearing at her nipple, she finger-fucked her pussy and ravished her clit with her thumb. It took no time before she felt an orgasm start to build. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she slid down the wall until her legs spread wide and her bottom pressed onto her heels. Seconds later, the first wave of her climax washed over her.
She barely heard the wet slapping her fingers made through the ringing in her ears. She ground her fingernails into the base of her nipple and rubbed her clit harder, faster. As the climax gathered strength, she dropped to her butt and bit her lip until it all but bled to keep from moaning loud enough for Trina to hear. After a couple of glorious minutes, her pussy stopped contracting and the climax mirrored the movement of her fingers, slowing and growing lighter until she was done.
Once she caught her breath, she wiped her hand on the carpet and slid back up the wall to a shaky stand. When she thought it was safe to walk, she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a towel. While wiping herself dry, she looked through the drawers until she found what she wanted.
By the time she got back, Trina had regained her own composure and was looking at the new adornment. She acted unconcerned, as if this piercing had been no different than the more surgically prepared one on the other side. But Arin was sure the woman’s shaved pussy was more swollen and flushed, as if she may have enjoyed her couple of minute’s solitude the same way Arin had.
Now that she was back in some semblance of control, Arin felt an odd sense of sadistic need take over. She pulled the long fireplace lighter from behind her back and flicked the trigger. Looking forward to a real reaction that would show she was back in charge, she watched the flame blossom blue, yellow, and orange.
“Now, let’s see just how tough you are.” She was pleased to see an honest look of worry crease Trina’s brow.
Still, she held her breast still and voiced a brave, “I can take anything you can dish out.”
Arin put the flame on the coiled end of the safety pin and let it heat. “Oh, I doubt that…”
Within moments, Trina’s lips parted. She didn’t bother being subtle as she tucked her hands between her legs and anxiously started rubbing. Just as it looked as if she would cry out, Arin trailed the flame lightly across Trina’s nipple itself.
For all her bravado, Trina finally broke. Pulling back just a little, she breathed out a clipped… “Please…” Her voice was hoarse, her tone almost desperate. Arin could tell her limit was close.
Moving the flame to the other nipple, she played ‘Charity DeSade’ for all she was worth by waving the fire from side to side so it just barely danced over the stiff nub. “Please…what? Please keep going?”
Trina sucked in a deep breath, slammed her eyes closed and again tried to hold her breasts still. Even so, they jiggled ever so slightly with each heartbeat and with a slight shaking of pain. “Please…” she started again.
Arin moved the flame down the breast’s lower curve then quickly across to the other nipple. “Please?”
The bound woman’s lips curled into a Mona Lisa smile as she deliberately shifted so the fire swallowed her entire nipple, piercing and all. Arin instinctively yanked the lighter back and let go of the trigger.
“Damn, girl!”
Trina’s laugh was musical. She looked from one breast to the other. Apparently satisfied they’d survive, she looked up at Arin. “So, now that you’ve lived up to the ‘Charity DeSade’ reputation, how about the fuck of your life?”
Arin couldn’t help but look at the woman’s naked curves and imagine them pressed against her, but she was going to be damned if she let Trina know that. She started untying her. “Oh, I doubt you’ll be that, but we can find out…”
Free of the rope, Trina stood. Before Arin could stop her, Trina grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her in for a deep, passionate, kiss. Arin couldn’t help but respond. Their breasts crushed together as their lips melded and their tongues danced. It wasn’t until Arin felt her legs start to wobble that she grabbed Trina by the arms and pushed her back. “Later,” she gasped.
Trina just laughed again and took a step back toward Arin. She was just an inch or two taller than the superstar. When their nipples brushed, Trina’s her eyes moved from Arin’s face to her chest, as if she could read the smaller woman’s desire. She cupped one of Arin’s breasts and pushed it up. When the raspberry nipple pointed up at her mouth, she drew it slowly between her lips.
Despite a burning need to pull Trina back onto the bed on top of her and let her devour her breasts and more, Arin pushed her back again. “The way I see it, I haven’t even filled one of the fur coat’s pockets yet.” Her voice was huskier than she intended, giving her passion away. “Besides, I want to make sure you have a real story to sell to the tabloids.” She looked pointedly at Arin’s newly-pierced breast. Tiny pools of blood welled around both sides of the safety pin.
“Now, unless you want me to use that fireplace lighter some more, turn around.”
Trina all but spun in place, anticipating Arin’s plans by holding her wrists together behind her. Arin watched the woman’s bottom jiggle as she tied her again. Once she was done, she gave it a sharp slap and squeeze with one hand as she toyed with her own nipple with the other.
Covering her renewed sense of horny with an air of uncaring brutality, Arin snagged both of Trina’s nipples by their metal decorations and dragged her around to one side of the bed. Once there, she gave her captive a light push. The back of Trina’s calves struck the mattress and she dropped back onto her bottom, sitting just below the solid wood crossbeam that framed the bed.
Ignoring the droplets of blood that had begun wending their way through the tight maze of crevices below Trina’s new holes, Arin took the rope and grabbed a handful of Trina’s left tit. Trina watched through half-lidded eyes as Arin began wrapping the rope around her breast’s base. Her breath quickening as Arin brutally twisted and squeezed the soft mound, yanking each loop as hard as she could until it bulged, swollen and tight, from Trina’s chest. By the time she finished with the other breast and tied the rope off, both of Trina’s tits swelled angrily past the loops and had started turning purple.
When even Arin’s deliberate cruelty drew little more than an occasional frown, she tossed the end of the rope up from between Trina’s ballooning breasts and ran it over the bed’s high, cedar crossbeam. She couldn’t remember the number of wrists that had been bound to the rustic log, hers included. These breasts were going to be a first. As she started pulling the rope, she looked at the safety pin – another first. She looked down for a moment at her own small titties and wondered what it might be like. When she glanced back up, Trina was watching her, that mischievous gleam in her eye. Though Arin’s pussy reacted again, clenching and wet, a flash of irritation drove her on.
With a brutal tug, Arin pulled on the rope so hard Trina’s rear came off the bed. The trussed woman hung by her breasts for several excruciating eye-blinks before her body weight stretched the rope enough that her butt pressed back into the mattress. Arin hauled again, putting all her weight into lifting her latest conquest. Faced with the threat of being hung by her boobs, Trina pushed up with her legs to offset the pressure. Arin heaved again, drawing the woman up onto her toes.
Trina groaned when Arin dropped to her knees and literally lifted her off the floor. She caught the mattress with a foot and pushed. It seemed she was trying less to support herself and more to hold herself up while the smaller woman wrestled with the overly long rope until she’d finally tied a couple of decent knots around the heavy timber beam.
By the time Charity DeSade was done, the balls of Trina’s feet were all that touched the floor. Her breasts bore the brunt of her weight. Even though it had to hurt, her tightly closed eyes and soft moaning suggested pleasure, if not delight. Arin stared at Trina, and especially at her bulbous breasts. They looked like purpling melons, dark, round, shining, and threatening to burst. Only her nipples jutted from the drawn flesh, and even they were not nearly so long as before.
In a way, Arin was jealous. True, she’d planned to take advantage of her latest visitor. That was the whole reason for the furs to begin with. But, lately, it didn’t seem quite fair. She was the star, after all. She should be the one tied helpless and getting all the attention. It should have been her tits bulging while someone else ate her out, teased and tormented her until she came. She glanced down at her chest – not that anyone could do the same kind of things to her she did to the big-breasted groupies she played with.
A voice interrupted her thoughts. “Untie my hands.”
Arin looked up to find Trina looking the same place she’d been looking, at her small breasts. She started to get embarrassed, angry, but then their eyes met and the other woman’s voice took on a note of sincerity it had lacked before.
“Trust me, Arin. Untie my hands.”
Arin hesitated, reluctant to give the other woman any control. But she knew in her heart, and everywhere else, that’s exactly what she wanted. With a quiet nod, she untied Trina’s wrists.
As soon as she was free, Trina grabbed one of the long rope tails. There was easily enough rope left to tie Arin up a couple of times over. Barely balancing on the pads of her toes, Trina swayed a second, her breasts the only thing holding her up. They were a glossy, plum-colored purple now, and her nipples hardly stood out from the rest.
After a deep breath, she caught her balance. “Stand in front of me and hold your arms up.”
Arin thought Trina was going to tie her wrists to the bed frame. They’d been tied there often enough. Instead, as soon as the rock star’s hands were high, Trina wound the rope around Arin’s chest, snugging it just over the underside of her breasts at the base. Trina wrapped another loop above that one. The third loop went above the smaller woman’s breasts, as did the fourth. Trina worked quickly, surprisingly well-versed in what she was doing. For the first time since she started playing these games, Arin had given up all pretense of control. She was content to feel the pressure as her small tits bulged from between the ropes and anxious to see what else Trina was going to do.
Wasting no time, her guest drew the rope under and around the loops just outside Arin’s right breast. She then grabbed the small mound of flesh, squeezing it in her palm and twisting it as she started looping the rope beneath the loops and around the avocado-sized ball. At first, the pain was minor – a pleasant crushing feeling at worst – but Trina dug her fingers in and cinched the second loop hard, pulling both it and the first loop tight, like a boa crushing its prey. Arin gasped and bit her lip, determined not to make any sound.
Trina smiled and yanked the third and final loops even harder. By the time she’d circled Arin’s left breast once, the first was already the same color as Trina’s and it throbbed with a wonderful intensity that made Arin’s pussy tingle. Less than a minute later, Trina tied the rope off on the outside of Arin’s left breast and reached for the piece that had formerly bound her wrists.
Now that her own breasts were tied as tightly, Arin marveled – between deep breaths – that Trina could force herself to get to the rope. The pressure on her breasts had to have been agonizing as she leaned, fingers grasping, until she just managed to snag the cord from off the blue silk bedspread with her long, manicured fingernails. After Trina pulled herself back up using the rope that ran up to the beam from her own breasts, she looped the loose cord between Arin’s breasts and threw the end up over the crossbeam beside hers.
After she caught it, she paused and gently caressed both of Arin’s darkening plums. “Are you ready?”
Arin’s heart raced. Her tits felt hot, and the steady throbbing was growing stronger. It was a dull, all-encompassing, wonderful pain that made them sensitive to the slightest touch. Though she wasn’t at all certain she’d be able to stand being hung the same way Trina was, her pussy told her she wanted nothing more than to try.
A slight nod was the best she could manage.
Trina trailed her long fingernails across Arin’s nipples, distracting her just as she started to pull. Unlike her own recent experience, Trina tugged slowly, letting Arin feel the pressure as it first tightened around her chest and then centered on her breasts. Arin took a couple of quick baby steps as the rope pulled her in line with the beam. Her toes touched Trina’s and the tops of her large plums brushed the undersides of Trina’s purple melons. She’d rubbed boobs with countless women before, but there was something about the feel of their bound breasts colliding that sent a shiver straight to her tingling pussy. She dropped a hand to it. Her clit was wet, very wet, hard and tingling. It reacted immediately to her touch. Her lips parted in a quiet gasp – which was when Trina’s mouth enveloped hers.
Though their first kiss had been great, this one literally took Arin’s breath away. It was hungry, hard, and genuine. Trina’s lips devoured hers, and the tip of her tongue explored Arin with a passion Arin had never known. For a moment, Arin’s hand became trapped between Trina’ thigh and her own sopping folds. She pulled it free and closed her eyes, all but forgetting about her aching breasts as the assault of pleasure robbed her of thought. Her pussy pressed against the other woman’s warm, firm flesh. Its lips shifted over the muscular leg as Trina lifted her from the floor.
It wasn’t until she felt Trina break the kiss that Arin realized her feet were well off the ground and Trina had pulled the rope again, taking up the slack. Arin felt her eyes grow wide as the other woman let her slide down her leg until there was nothing left to support her but the rope harness around her chest, a harness anchored around her exploding breasts.
She opened her mouth to protest, but she couldn’t make the sounds come out. Trina’s fingers trailed down Arin’s tight belly and into her pussy. At the same time, she took the smaller of Arin’s breasts almost completely in her mouth, enveloping it like she would have a large lemon. Her lips and tongue moved all over Arin’s burning flesh, soothing it as her fingertips explored. Arin thought about grabbing the rope and supporting herself just a bit to take some of the pressure off of her aching tits, but her hands wouldn’t cooperate. She found Trina’s breasts instead. Her fingers closed around the cool, firm, round balloons.
She was just getting into squeezing them when Trina’s fingers pinched her clitoris. At the same time, the girl’s teeth bit into the side of a fruity breast. She responded with a muted moan, pushing both her chest and her pussy at Trina for more. Trina’s laugh was muffled as she used her free hand to spanked Arin’s bottom with a loud smack. Arin felt her nipples react, getting even harder despite how tightly her breasts were tied. Apparently, Trina saw them, too, as the next stinging spank was accompanied by a wickedly painful nip on a stiff bud itself. Under other circumstances, the sharp pain might have shut her down, but the clit pinch had turned into an expert massage, and Arin’s cry became another wanting moan.
It wasn’t long before Arin’s bottom felt like it was on fire, with each open-palmed blow making it jiggle. Her breasts ached and burned as badly as her bottom, throbbing beyond anything she had ever known. They were being crushed, not only because of the binding, but because Trina had become so relentless in biting them like the plums they resembled that she’d left several sets of bruising teeth marks. Still, Trina’s fingers turned every sensation into ecstatic pleasure. She made Arin the center of her world despite the fact that her own cold and twilight-colored breasts had to have been pounding in agony.
By the time Trina shoved her thigh back between Arin’s legs, the smaller woman’s orgasm was inevitable. Trina dug both hands into Arin’s bottom, burying her fingernails, gouging skin as she slid Arin up her muscular leg until Both pussies crushed against each other’s thigh. Arin followed her lover’s lead and filled her hands with Trina’s ass. The women pulled each other closer, pushing up for even more leverage. As their bound breasts crushed together, she attacked Trina’s mouth with hers, willing the woman to suck her breath away.
As they writhed together, Arin’s pussy clenched and the first wave of climax took her. She heard Trina’s moans mingle with her own and knew, despite the wonderful torment, the sound was driven by pleasure.
They thrashed together until both their orgasms ebbed. Then they hung in each other’s arms when they were done. Eventually, after catching her breath, Arin looked at Trina. Her head lolled against Arin’s shoulder and her lips curled into a cat-like smile. Arin looked further down and saw four dark breasts mashing together. She brushed a palm across the front of one of the larger, dark blue ones. It was cold and there was little definition at its tip except for the safety pin. Trickles of fresh blood smeared across her palm.
“So, do I get the job?” Trina’s voice was exhausted and hoarse, but still as playful.
Arin fingered the safety pin as she closed her eyes. She smiled as she laid her cheek on her lover’s shoulder. Her own voice sounded quite the same. “Oh, I think I can make room, but it’ll take the whole weekend to discuss terms.” Thinking about the other things she planned to do, she grazed a palm down Trina’s back and lightly squeezed her warm bottom.
Trina’s hand did the same, and he lips brushed Arin’s neck. “Oh, I think I can live with that.”