Chapter 32 - Cream Filling
When we pulled up to the hotel and Cheryl saw the path to the
parking, she called over the internal window in the limo to explain a
problem. "We won't be able to take this car into that parking garage.
I'll have to let you out here."
Milord Atlas reached to undo our seat belts as though there
were no issue, but we had never walked through the main hotel in
costume. I began to explain, "Milord, I'm not sure the hotel will let
us go through the main lobby. We've always used the garage entrance
before."
He said nothing, just looking at me for a moment. Then I
could see decision in his eyes, and he reached for our gags. In a
moment, Angel and I wore our gags again, and he was lifting us to our
feet outside the car. He looped our golden leashes around his shiny
black gauntlet and walked toward the door of the hotel with casual
confidence. We followed behind with the tiny, quick steps required by
our hobbles and entered the main hotel lobby. Milord Atlas acted as
though he owned the place, an absolute confidence enhanced by the
knowledge that he could if he chose to, and looked at the display of
meeting rooms for the one cryptically labeled, "Controlling Bonds."
When he identified it, he sauntered to the elevator, ignoring the
gasps and stares of the crowd of people in the lobby. At first, I
could feel a flare of embarrassment in my cheeks, but I noticed that
Angel was gloriously happy, not embarrassed. She truly reveled in the
desire she caused around her, yet she was so honestly pleased that her
expression was childish innocence, not jaded egotism. That reminded
me of my persona, and I unleashed the lust I felt into my expression.
The color in my cheeks changed from embarrassment to hot promise, and
I walked proud to the point of arrogance behind my master,
exaggerating the wiggle of my tiny skirt as I stepped quickly in the
hobbles.
An officious looking man came from behind the counter to
intercept us, stopping in front of Milord Atlas. "You people aren't
supposed to come in here," he complained.
Milord Atlas looked down at him in dismissal. I would have
used a sneer, but Rocky was just too gentle and careful of his
strength to allow him to transition to a cruel attitude. He could,
however, treat others as annoying children, too insignificant to reach
his emotions.
"You did not make proper arrangements for limousines, and I do
not intend to hunt around for some alternate entrance. Stand aside."
The absolute absence of deliberate menace in his tone, since
he truly was gentle, became inverted into an overwhelming message of
danger to the officious complainer. Milord Atlas towered above
everyone in the lobby, much taller and immensely stronger than the man
who confronted him. The shiny ripples of his skin-tight outfit
celebrated his massive strength, demonstrating without doubt that his
bulk was sculptured muscle, not fat. His slave girls, in such total
bondage, implied Milord Atlas was comfortable, even willing to use
force to achieve his ends and in any ordinary man that willingness
would have shown in a threatening tone of voice. Its total absence
could only be explained by rigid control, perhaps only barely
maintained. Unless you knew how gentle our master truly was, that is.
Since the man confronting us had only the evidence of his eyes to go
on, he made the natural assumption the Milord Atlas would use his
strength without hesitation and the hotel worker's awareness of his
absolute helplessness before such a powerful man surged in his eyes.
He stepped quickly back and we moved to the elevator.
A middle-aged couple was standing there, waiting for an
elevator to arrive. The man's eyes bulged at our near nudity, and at
our shining bonds. His wife glared at us with undisguised hatred,
knowing that she could not match our desirability. Then she noticed
the expression on her husband's face and her anger transferred to him.
"Don't you dare look at those disgusting women!" she demanded.
Before he could reply, Milord Atlas intervened. "It is not
their purpose to please you, madam, but to please me. Your opinion
insults me. Do not do so again."
"Well, I never . . ," the women blustered.
"Obviously," Milord Atlas interrupted. "If you had, your
husband would be paying attention to you, instead of my women. Don't
transfer your own shortcomings to others."
At that moment the elevator arrived and Milord Atlas led us
into it without hesitation. The man moved to enter with us, but his
wife held him back. As we waited for the doors to close I looked at
the man with hot invitation in my eyes, promising the fulfillment of
all his desires if he could gain control of me. He gasped in instant
flaming need, provoking his wife to trace his gaze to my eyes. I then
turned the same expression on her, suggesting that I could fulfill her
secret desires as well. There was an instant of responsiveness in her
expression, before she forced it to disgust, but I knew that she was
interested, and that she knew I knew. Embarrassment flooded her face,
but just as the door closed I saw a thoughtful expression as well. I
wondered if we would see a new couple at one of the future bondage
parties. Perhaps the woman would offer to buy me for an evening,
though at the next one I intended to be Raven. Perhaps I would buy
her and see how well I had learned my dominance lessons from Milord
Odysseus.
The encounter with the officious hotel worker had solidified
Milord Atlas in his persona. The total absence of threat became the
greatest threat of all and he could actually relax into his role. He
would roll over any interference without allowing it to reach him
emotionally, so overwhelming in his superiority that no noticeable
effort would be required on his part to get his way. The couple at
the elevator had helped me to recover the persona of Vivid, the
insatiable wanton. With every look, with every swing of my tiny
skirt, with every toss of my flowing mane of hair, I sent a message to
all who came close that only my slavery kept me from throwing myself
at anyone and everyone in uncontrollable submission to my limitless
drive for sexual fulfillment. Gaining control of me promised intense,
energetic sex which might not be possible to survive, and would
certainly be impossible to match. Angel provided the perfect
counterpoint, also incredibly beautiful, also intensely sensual, but
innocent of any sin in her honest desire for physical pleasure, both
to give and to receive. Opening that delicate flower with the
spectacular figure promised delights without inhibition.
At first, Milord Atlas was apparently unaware of the intensity
of the effect we were having on those around us. He paid our way into
the party, declining to participate in the contest, and sauntered
through the displays. Only his unusually slow pace betrayed his
awareness that we were even attached to the leashes trailing from his
gauntlet. He hadn't explained why he had gagged us again, though it
had certainly focused the encounter in the hotel lobby entirely on
him, making us clearly not responsible for explanations, and therefore
not responsible for our actions. In the party itself he could have
removed them, but he left them in place with casual negligence.
When he turned around, however, I could see the bulge pulsing
in his tight costume and I knew he was picking up on the energy we
were broadcasting. He paused for a second to examine one of the
tables and I used the opportunity to step up to him, molding my body
to his and rubbing gently against him. I sent him a message of
burning need with my eyes, a message that was merely the truth for my
act of insatiable, consuming desire had become only too real.
"Why, Vivid, it would appear to me that you would ask for
something, if I let you speak," he laughed. "That's why I gagged you.
I'm not taking any suggestions right now. I think I'll let you simmer
for a while longer."
I gave him a frown around the gag, and rubbed against him
again.
"No, I told you my decision," he confirmed, no anger in his
words, but no room for discussion either. "If you don't behave
yourself, I'll make you hotter than ever."
With that threat, so gently delivered, he reached out and
tweaked my nipples to even greater extension. The electric shock of
his touch nearly caused me to faint. I groaned around the gag and
sagged with weakened knees. He smiled at my helplessness and
supported me, using the occasion to reach under my skirt and grab a
handful of firm ass globe for a convenient lifting handle. That
didn't really help and I groaned even louder, letting him know as I
realized myself just how desperate my need was getting. Angel
actually looked a little worried, her heavenly face clouding with a
small frown. Milord Atlas bent down to whisper in my ear, "Don't
worry, we'll be leaving soon. But I find I do like the sense of power
that this situation provides. I'll make it up to you later."
His promise stoked the fires of my need even higher, and I
tried once again to rub up against him, but he just grinned and moved
away, easily too fast for my hobbled legs to follow. He wandered over
to the tables of bondage implements, passing by those that were too
painful, but to our surprise he stopped at one displaying nipple
clamps.
"I think you girls would benefit from a little stimulation.
Now let's see, which ones should I use?" He trailed his fingers
lightly through the array of clamps, pausing on one pair that seemed
to be made of sharp knives that looked actually dangerous. However,
his pause was for effect, and his fingers moved on. I realized that
we couldn't really even resist whatever he wanted to do, especially
gagged as we were. Any resistance would seem to be an act since his
strength would overpower ours so totally our struggles wouldn't even
appear serious.
He selected matching sets of nipple clamps, each pair joined
by about a foot of golden chain that went very well with our existing
bonds. In contrast to the ones he had used to tease us, these clamps
were gently rounded and padded with a layer of rubber. If he didn't
fasten them too tightly, they wouldn't really hurt at all. At least,
I hoped not. He bought them from the dealer and turned to us, first
to Angel, since her magnificent tits were highlighted by equally
magnificent nipples. He fastened the clamps to her nipples directly
through the thin fabric of her slave dress, screwing down on the
mechanism until they were securely in place. I could see from her
expression that she wasn't hurt, in fact, her eyes showed a look of
wonder at the sensation. Milord Atlas then turned to me and placed
the clamps on my own erect nipples. At first, the sensation was a
gentle as a caress, less of a shock than when he had touched me only
moments before. As he screwed down on the clamps, the pressure became
firmer, stabilizing at a constant, steady squeeze that was less than
the sharpness of Milord Odysseus's teeth, back when he had introduced
me to the extension of pleasure through careful stimulation of my
sensitized nerves. I wondered if Milord Atlas had somehow learned
that technique, and whether my training would satisfy him, or merely
excite him to show me even more of this new avenue of arousal. He had
hardly turned away, though, when the first small throb pulsed in my
nipples from the restricted circulation.
The lofty indifference to lesser beings that Milord Atlas had
displayed had created a feeling of distance between us and the others
at the bondage party, and we had not been approached by anyone. By
his purchase of the nipple clamps, however, Milord Atlas had broken
down that distance, and we were now approached by a series of would-be
owners, male and female, who made increasingly flattering offers to
buy either Angel or me, or both. The excitement of an open auction at
the slave block wasn't there, but the offers climbed up to almost
equivalent levels. Milord Atlas either blandly ignored them, or
negligently shook his head, not concerned with other's desires or with
mere money.
The sensation of the nipple clamps was so compelling that I
wasn't really paying attention to where he was taking us until I saw
his free arm raise in a gesture toward the exit. I looked up to see
Cheryl turning away, already heading to fetch the limousine. Milord
Atlas pulled us toward the elevators, still strolling slowly enough
that we could keep up in our hobbles. This time no one else was
waiting and we moved into the elevator without incident.
"Girls, I'm going to leave you gagged for a little longer I
think. At least until we reach the car. I have a few ideas in mind
and I wouldn't want you to make so much noise you distracted the
chauffeur."
What ideas? I was really surprised that he had placed nipple
clamps on us. That didn't seem to fit with his inherently gentle
nature, though the stimulation was not really painful. Nonetheless,
it clearly indicated that he was not as predictable as I had thought.
I still trusted him, but I realized that I couldn't really begin to
forecast the sensations we would experience as his slaves.
We paraded through the lobby again, the same officious hotel
worker busily ignoring us from behind the counter. Cheryl had the
limo waiting and the door open. Milord Atlas lifted each of us into
the car, but he folded up the jump seats and placed Angel and I on our
knees, facing each other. Our bonds and the need to keep our
shoulders back to keep the tops of our dresses in place forced us into
an erect, elegant posture, while our spread knees and linked ankles
provided a stable triangle of support.
I expected him to remove our gags as soon as the limo pulled
away from the drive, but instead he reached for the clamp on Angel's
right nipple. He removed it and she moaned with the intensity of the
sensation as blood surged back into her hard button. I saw tears form
in her eyes, and wondered if she were really in pain, but in just a
second I caught the scent of her arousal and knew she found the
experience stimulating, not truly unpleasant. Instead of removing her
other nipple clamp, he next reached for me and undid the one on my
left nipple. The flare of heat as the clamp was removed was too
intense to label as either pleasure or pain. It was something
indescribable, more than the sum of both, more powerful than anything
Milord Odysseus had done to my tits when he was training me. I moaned
around my own gag, and sagged against the front of the compartment, my
eyes closing as my world narrowed in focus to the hot flood surging
from my nipple point throughout my body.
Even as I sagged in my bonds, I felt a tug on the remaining
clamp and expected it to be removed. Instead I heard a muffled gasp
from Angel and opened my eyes to see Milord Atlas fastening to Angel's
right nipple the free clamp from the chain still attached to my right
nipple! The gag I wore muffled my own gasp as Milord Atlas completed
his plan by attaching the chain leading from Angel's left nipple to my
own. In a moment we were linked together by a crossed pair of chains
clamped tightly but not quite painfully to the burning buttons on our
tits. Only then did our master remove our gags.
"Comfortable, girls?" he asked.
"Yes, Milord," Angel dutifully replied.
"No, Milord," I replied, surprising Milord Atlas.
"What is the problem?"
"Oh, Milord Atlas, I need you too badly to be comfortable. I
need to hold you, to kiss you, to taste you, to be taken by you to
heights I can only dream about, until you show them to me."
He smiled as I made it clear my discomfort was sexual need,
enhanced by our bonds rather than diminished by his arrangement of his
slave girls.
"Too bad," he grinned. "You'll just have to wait until we get
back to the house. Think about what you might do there to please me.
I'll expect real creativity."
I moaned again, desperate in my need, yet the bondage into
which he had placed us required Angel and I to concentrate on our
balance and posture while at the same time forcing our focus on the
very stimulation that was fanning the flames of our arousal. As it
had with Milord Odysseus, the intense stimulation of my nipples
aroused my manhood to erection as well and it strained within the
disguising cushion. By the time we reached the house I was whimpering
in my need, the adhesive on my artificial mound beginning to loosen
from the pulsing pressure of my raging cock.
I was barely aware of the world outside my arousal when Cheryl
pulled into our driveway and opened the limousine door. I couldn't
concentrate enough to imagine any way that Angel and I could get to
the house while still clamped together and was trying to prepare
myself for the unimaginable flood of sensation when my nipples were
freed when Milord Atlas reminded us of his incredible strength. He
reached an arm under my thighs, and under Angel's as well, and simply
lifted one of us up in each hand as easily as he might have lifted a
couple of loaves of bread. I felt a sharper tug at my nipples as
Angel and I adjusted ourselves for this new support and had an instant
of panic at the thought of falling, but Milord Atlas held our legs in
a gentle grip as steady as a vise. This provided an anchor point and
we could use our legs to hold ourselves in position. Milord Atlas
carried us to the door, set us down while he unlocked it, then picked
us up again and carried us into the bedroom.
"Kneel, girls," he ordered, and we lowered ourselves to the
floor, carefully keeping our tits close enough together to keep the
chains from pulling too tightly. Angel and I faced each other, our
knees touching, our tits nearly so, our lips only inches apart. I
needed to be kissed, to be loved, to be used as I had never been used
before and I leaned forward frantically to suck Angel's tongue deeply
into my mouth. She responded with equal energy, her own need perhaps
as great as mine, her sensual scent flooding the air around us. I was
so consumed with the sensations from my nipples, and from her lips,
that I didn't notice that Milord Atlas had undressed himself.
"Lean back, both of you," he ordered, and as we did so he
moved forward to place his thick, engorged cock between our faces. I
immediately began to lick and kiss on my side of his shaft, painting
it with my tongue, wrapping my lips around it. Angel's lips met mine
as we slid our mouths right and left over the length of Milord Atlas's
mighty tool, and our tongues dueled for the privilege of licking the
sensitive underside. Milord Atlas began to pant heavily from the
stimulation, and he turned slightly toward me. I used the opportunity
to take the head of his cock into my mouth and began to pull him into
me with all the suction my lungs could provide. Angel began to lick
at his balls, gently flicking at the tightly stretched skin over his
swollen orbs.
Milord Atlas pulled back from my mouth and turned to Angel,
who eagerly swallowed his tool down her own throat, determined to
convince our master that she was the better fellatrice. I used the
opportunity to capture one of his balls in my mouth, swirling my
tongue around the convoluted shape. Milord Atlas groaned again and
withdrew.
"Not too much, too soon," he gasped.
"Vivid, are you hard, within that cushion?" my master then
asked.
"Yes, Milord, desperately hard," I confirmed
"Can that gaff be removed, without removing your bonds?" he
continued.
"Yes, Milord, but you will need to put a little of the release
agent on the adhesive, or I'll lose some skin."
"We can't have that," he smiled. "Your skin is entirely too
beautiful to waste."
I told him where the solvent was and after he had gotten it he
pulled up the hem of my brief skirt and soaked the edges of the
disguising cushion with the fluid. In a few seconds my cock was free,
surging forward in hunger for a different sort of captivity.
"Now, you two sit still for a minute," we were directed.
Milord Atlas removed the chain running from our necks to our
ankles, and removed the ankle cuffs. He relocked our collars, and
locked my wrist bracelets directly together, pinning my arms behind my
back, but he left Angel's arms free. Without our hobbles we could
move our legs apart, but our nipple clamps still held Angel and I
closely together.
"Stand up," our master ordered and we struggled to our feet,
Angel helping me with my balance as we rose, carefully keeping our
tits within the reach of the chains connecting them.
He used our leashes to bind Angel's arms to the upper corners
of our bed posts, spreading and lifting her magnificent tits. I still
stood facing her, only allowed a few inches by the crossed chains from
my nipple clamps.
"Now, Vivid, I want you to stick your cock into her."
I struggled to position my raging erection at the flowing
entrance to her feminine receptacle, finally steering the tip of my
cock into her liquid canal. She swung her legs around me and pulled
me deeply into her, beginning to swing from her chains in response to
her demanding need for stimulation.
I struggled to control myself so that I could offer my master
my ultimate service. "Milord Atlas, I have been trained in the
pleasure of use as a woman is used. Could a lowly slave girl beg the
privilege of your glorious manhood to fill my hot ass? I promise you
it will be wonderful for both of us."
"You're kidding," he said in disbelief. "After you were raped
in the ass, you want me to do the same?"
"Milord, if you will only be a bit gentle, it will not be
rape, but be more wonderful than I can describe. There is lubricant
in the nightstand."
At my urging he carefully prepared me, while Angel swung
gently back and forth, maintaining her own arousal. When he finally
penetrated me it was even more pleasurable than I had remembered, the
sensation that I had once considered to be painful now building on the
fires from my nipples and my cock to lift me to unbelievable
stimulation. I began to move forward and back, plunging into Angel as
I felt my master's cock withdraw from my ass, then pushing backward to
take him fully into me as my own cock withdrew from Angel. I wanted
this incredible sandwich to continue forever, building ever higher,
ever more wonderful, but I felt my own need surging in a demand that I
knew I wouldn't be able to deny for long.
Angel's own arousal was reaching impossible heights as she
began to moan in mindless passion. I was tasting the first beginnings
of an explosion within me when I saw Milord Atlas reach around me and
pull the nipple clamps off of Angel. She truly did explode in
response to the overwhelming stimulation, screaming with the intensity
of her release in a thin voice robbed by her uncontrollable breathing
of the air for full sound. Milord Atlas pulled my own nipple clamps
off a heartbeat later and I screamed my own release as the heat
flooded through me. My world narrowed to the fire in my nipples, and
the pulse through my cock, and the pressure of my master's tool in my
ass. The pulses of my release were reflected in the spasms of my
anus, which provided the final stimulation needed by Milord Atlas for
his own explosion. Like dominos we erupted in rapid sequence,
triggered by his removal of Angel's nipple clamps, and of my own.
His deep grunts provided a masculine counterpoint to Angel's
high soprano and my own melodic contralto as we were carried upwards
into a mutual triumph, each adding the emotional fulfillment of
happiness in the pleasure of those we loved to the physical pleasure
captivating our own bodies. In all the occasions I had ever enjoyed
sex, none ever approached this incredible culmination of trained
physical responses merged with deep mutual love. For a mindless,
timeless interval we helped each other to immeasurable heights,
reaching and then exceeding a new level of joy with each heartbeat,
with each pulse of release, with each spasm of clamping muscles.
Even this incredible wonder must finally come to an end,
however, and my perceptions eventually expanded to accept the world
outside our union. Angel had ceased her thin screams, now sighing
softly, hanging limply from the chains holding her arms. My own cock
was deflating within her, the final pulses draining the seed from my
balls, even as I felt the warm semen from my master seeping within my
body. Finally he withdrew from my ass, bending forward to kiss my
shoulder as he reached for the bonds holding Angel. I withdrew from
her as he lowered her gently to the bed. Angel was still too spent to
do more than smile softly, dreamily, at the touch of his hands.
He unbound my wrists and I turned to wrap my arms around him,
lifting my lips for a kiss in silent celebration of our victory
together. He smiled as he granted me the gift I asked for and held me
closely while our hearts returned to a more sustainable pace.
"Oh, Milord Atlas," I cooed in his arms, "you are more
wonderful than even my dreams could imagine."
"You're incredible," he replied. "I keep telling myself not
to underestimate you, but I always do. Is there anything you wouldn't
do for pleasure?"
"I would do anything you asked of me, if I could, my master,"
I promised.
"How about if I were not your master, but we were just Rocky
and Brandy again?"
"Dear Rocky, you will always be my master, regardless of our
costumes. I respect you more than anyone in the world, including
Kelly, though we both know our relationship is not quite the same as
the love between a husband and wife. Still, I love you in some unique
way I can't really begin to compare to anything I've ever felt with
anyone else. Part of it, though, is a true desire to please you in
whatever way I can. That makes you my master in the most compelling
possible way."
I lifted my lips for another kiss, which was gladly supplied,
but in a moment Rocky moved away to take a quick shower. I used the
time to remove my slave dress, reattach my disguise mound, and put on
a short robe. Kelly slept on, now totally unbound and comfortable
though revealed, in her slave outfit. When Rocky returned we went to
the living room for a couple of drinks, captive only to our desires to
make each other happy.
