Bosom Bondage Buddies, Part 2

by Brandy Dewinter

  

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.

  

  

  

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