Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home

Review This Story || Author: Polecat

Priapus' Bride

Chapter 2

Dark CH2

Priapus’ Bride CH2

 

They drive off, into the night. She lies back on the smooth leather seat and, turning her head, looks at Him from behind her green eyes.

 

“Are you still willing?” He asks her.

 

“Do you have to ask?” She answers.”Have I ever denied you anything?”

 

He does not respond. He concentrates on the road, but his engorged member belies his apparent sang-froid.

 

She smiles. Her hand caresses His arm. She can feel His muscles under the fabric of His dark blue blazer. She is happy; she has had three years of happiness with Him. That is enough for a lifetime. It will end today, she knows. She also knows it will not be fast, and it will not be pleasant, for her. She planned it this way.

 

She remembers well. Three years ago, she sat on the stage, while another girl, another goddess, also dressed in white, performed her final act for Him. That one was taller than her, with brown hair and brown eyes, larger breasts, curvier, fuller hips. She had also prepared herself, and prepared her act for Him. Like her, she had scripted her offering. Like her, she met with the woman who would succeed her. A gorgeous brunette, and arranged the show. Her final offering to His pleasure.

 

They arrive at the mansion. On His arm, they enter the stage. A few couples, no more than five or six, sit around the stage. The stage is brightly lit. A large screen TV hangs over the stage.

 

They stand in the center of the stage. She kisses His lips, one last time. He hugs her closely. Then they part. He sits at on a large overstuffed leather chair, on the first row. She stands, proudly, in the center of the stage. The new girl, the brunette, approaches Him and takes his blazer. He sits and the brunette lights his cigar and pours him a large scotch, Glenlivet, his favorite. The brunette then enters the stage too. She is modestly dressed in a brown skirt and cream colored blouse; there must be no doubt about who is the prima ballerina in tonight’s tragedy. They both hug and kiss, to a great ovation from the crowd. Sisters for a night.

 

Moody music pours from loudspeakers; the music is dark, Nox Arcana, or similar.

 

She strips off her white dress and hands it to the brunette, who lays it on the side.

 

Clad only in her bra, thong garter belt, stockings and sandals, she dances to the music. She approaches the center of the stage. In its center, a white sheet covers a large object. On a table, a three tailed whip. She picks up the whip and approaches Him. She shows Him the whip. He touches it, examines it, examines the tails, and notes the shards of glass and metal embedded in the braided leather. He nods His head in admiration and approval.

She dances away from him, and tours the spectators, showing them the whip. Her body is now covered by a light sheen of sweat, her nipples, erect strain against the flimsy fabric of her brassiere.

 

She dances back to the center of the stage, and in one fluid motion rips away the white sheet revealing, in the center of the stage, a marble statue.

 

 Priapus, stands, nude, with his arms held high, in front of him. From each hand hangs a chain, with a cuff on it. From his groin, the erect god sports a huge penis, unlike any ever sculpted in Rome. It is not of marble but of steel. It is huge, 14 inches long, its sharp tip is two inches wide, but quickly flares to four in diameter. Its surface is covered with sharp steel barbs. The audience gasps in unison, and then breaks out in thunderous applause. They all stand as they cheer her:

 

“Brava!” They repeat.

 

She has eyes only for him. He stands also. His face is drawn; he did not expect this. He smiles at her, and claps his hand in applause.

 

A large man now enters the stage. He is clad only in a red loincloth. He is a giant, seven feet tall, his chest, massive, like an ox; barefoot he dances into the stage, spinning his ebon frame, in sync with the music, which now has changed to African or perhaps Haitian drums. The beat is hypnotic, and the audience sits again, silent.

 

She dances around the statue, and takes off her bra. Her breasts, now free of their lacey cage, are exposed for everyone to see. She continues her dance; she comes forward, towards the audience, then falls on a knee and flips her head forward, then back again. The audience is rapt by her beauty. She approaches the man. He picks her up, effortlessly by her waist, and lifts her in the air. He stands in the front center of the stage, right in front of Him. She rips off her thong and lets the wispy slip of fabric fall on His legs. He picks it up, smells it and puts it in the pocket of His shirt.

 

The man lowers her again, and her dance completed, she bows to the audience. The large screen TV turns on, and on it we can see her from her back. The show can thus be seen from all directions. The music stops.

 

She addresses the audience:

 

“Welcome to my demise.” The audience applauds.

 

“I hope to delight you with my suffering tonight. Here is the show that I have prepared for you. First Sampson, my strong and large assistant here” She gestures to the gigantic black man, “will shred my back and ass with the whip. He will give me fifty strokes of the lash.”

 

 The audience lets out an appreciative “Ooh”

 

She continues.” Once that is completed, my assistants” and she gestures to the brunette and Sampson, “will release me, and I shall be available for any man who might want to use my mouth.

 

 Once you are all calm and appreciative again, they will string me up again and Sampson will give me at least fifty lashes on my breasts and belly, until my front is well flayed.” She stops for another ovation.

 

“After at least fifty lashes, they will again release me. And my dear friend here” She again gestures to the brunette “will wash away the blood with salt water. This should revive me, if I have passed out”

 

“I do not believe I will be in any condition by then to offer anyone a blow job, but my pussy and ass will be made available for anyone who wants to use them. As you can see” She gestures towards the statue “even if I survive that for awhile, they will be useless afterwards” She pauses for a moment and then continues.

 

“Sampson will then string me up again, and impale me with Priapus’ steel cock. He will assist the God in fucking me, until he comes.

 

 It may take him a while to come, since I will blow him before he starts whipping me, and also after the first fifty lashes. My beautiful assistant will also blow, and perhaps fuck him a couple more times. Whether I survive or not, he will lay me down on the table, and the men are welcome to use or finish me in any way you see fit.” The audience cheers her again.

 

“Well, gentlemen, it is time to start”

 

She kneels before Sampson; her perfect profile to the audience, as she looks up at the giant. The brunette approaches the black man, and after fumbling a bit with the loincloth, she extracts a huge monster of a cock. He feeds his monster prick to the blonde girl kneeling in front of him. She opens her red lips and with some difficulty takes him in her mouth. The big screen TV shows this from an extreme close up. The men look at the black man with envy. Her head bobs up and down on the monster cock until with a loud grunt Sampson holds her head and thrusts into her face a few times. On the screen we can see her retching from the monstrous invasion, he moans and climaxes in her mouth. Her throat moves as she strains to swallow all of his come, but she cannot avoid some of it dripping on her chin. She licks it up and licks him clean.

 


Review This Story || Author: Polecat
Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home