Chapter 6: Kate's Plan
A few days later, Carin returned to their sleeping nook after a few hours of Sultha to find Kate sitting on the throw pillows, sultry in her harem silks, her expression fixed. In her capable fingers were long silk scarves.
“I want to tie you up,” she said simply.
Carin was not one to waste an opportunity. She turned and crossed her wrists behind her, craning a look back past creamy shoulder and tumbling blonde hair as Kate tugged the silky coils snugly around the Dutchwoman's sensitive wrists.
“That's perfect, Darling,” Carin shuddered, her eyes lazy in delight, her fingers milling in new-found impotency.
“Sit here. Feet Together.” The Baltic lass did as ordered, watching as her ankles were firmly encircled in soft colorful banding. The knot was firm and certain.
“And now the rest.” Kate schooched around behind Carin who assumed a gag was to be employed and dropped her mouth open to eagerly accept it. In this she was right; cool silk parted her teeth and pinched her cheeks, tied in place with knowing fingertips. Carin moaned to test its effectiveness. It wouldn't stop much, but sometimes it was interesting to listen to one's own warbles during climax.
A moment after, a second scarf blurred past her nose to seat across her propped lips, snugging into place. Now her gag was effective, the first serving as packing, the second as a sealer. If Carin's lips weren't so stuffed she would have smiled; now she could scream all she wished and they'd not be disturbed.
But then came the third gag. Then the fourth. Carin grunted in consternation but not a sound escaped the bulging banding that wadded her gob. A fifth went over it, wide and shallow, a second skin of glorious color that smoothed the transition between skin and silk.
Further concerns arouse when the next scarf swept over her eyes, obscuring much of her vision. Oh, she could still tip her head back and see through the gaps along her nose but... Another blindfold! Now everything was dark. She tried to call to Kate to explain this intense game but speech, even sound, was denied. Another blindfold went around her head.
A cobweb's brush across the small section of her cheek unmasked, the feeling of her hair compressing. In her mind's eye she could see Kate dropping a large scarf over her head and wrapping it off around her neck. How she had no head, just a colorful bulb. She swirled her fingers, the only response left to her. It did no good – another hood slipped over her head. Carin was more cut off from the world than she'd ever been. It was scary... and nice. She leaned back to feel Kate's warmth, putting her full trust in the purple-haired girl.
The last wrapping was another gag, just to seal the whole thing together. Kate felt it pressure across her already-gaping, silk-filled mouth, a gentle tamping down of domination. She called out one last time, her mute noise echoing around the dark cathedral of her skull. She was alone.
But she wasn't. She felt Kate coax her back, laying her across the pillows. She felt her flimsy things being stripped away, the air cool across her shapely body. She felt the first exploratory touches as Kate got down to business. With nothing left to her, Carin relaxed, content to enjoy the show.
Hunched over the luscious, bulb-topped body, Kate frowned in absolute concentration. Oh, her loins were alight but they were always alight in this place. She ignored her body's insistent call and focused on Carin, bringing into play every touch, stroke, tickle and tonging that her friend had shown positive response to over the months of their cohabitant captivity. Her entire focus was on Carin's needs. She ran a fingertip beneath each jutting nipple. She traced juice-slicked lips with a methodical pattern, earning a distant grunt of favor and a slight rise of Carin's thighs. She tickled the soft spot behind each knee. She kissed the indentation between each rib. Beneath her fingers and tongue, her captive's flesh became heated.
Kate spooled out the torment over a long hour, using Carin's orgasmic restrictions as an ally, dancing her body all around a climax without giving it to her. The body beneath her trembled, sweat steaming across its pink plains, the door-knob head gently turning back and forth in aimless motion. The scarves around her wrists and ankles were soaked with sweat. Carin's body was a machine running amok, unable to stop, rushing towards certain destruction.
Now, Kate judged.
She slipped around to slide her folded legs beneath her friend's head, propping it up, her hands splayed across it to steady it, to capture Carin's attention as she'd captured her body and her passions.
“You can hear me,” she said, leaning close. “I know you can.” She paused, both for effect and to listen carefully for any girls loitering nearby. Nothing.
“I know you are about to climax.” A distant scream of confirmation, blunted by countless silken strata. “You must agree to one thing before I drive you over the edge. One thing.” Carin stilled, evidently listening. “The next time I am to be tied for delivery to Ra'idah, you will tie my hands. And you will leave them so I can easily get freed.”
The head in her lap paused before shaking a fearful 'no'. She flattened her hands to end the denial, then reached out and gave one engorged nipple a pinch. Carin's body arced. “I'll climax you, here and now, if you'll agree. Otherwise you spend the night in silk-wrapped solitude. If you agree, snap your fingers.” To confirm her attention, she ran her hands up the globes of Carin's breasts, sweeping over her breastbones and across her freckled shoulders.
From beneath the nude body came a muffled fingersnap, the best the poor girl could do given her sweaty hands.
“Very good,” Kate smiled. Then she reached down and took her friend across the final step of her long journey. So agitated was Carin that she climaxed three time in quickfire succession. When she was done, Kate pushed her own sweaty hair from her forehead and fingered herself. She didn't have that far to go either. Evidently the prolonged molestation of her helpless friend had set her own passions up. She lay against her bound lover's body and fingered her own way clear.
When everything was done, when her passions were temporarily spent, she rolled Carin onto her belly and unknotted her wrists. Leaving her friend to find her own freedom, she then left the nook, washed, dried and garbed quickly, then went onto the next step of her plan.
=< O >=
Sometimes harem women were like that. Sometimes they just got cranky.
The next day (the day Carin was very shaky and very quiet), Kate sat under a broad bared window on the far end of the harem enclosure, keeping her own company and that of a hookah. She sat with crossed arms, sucking at the nipple on the pipe hose and glaring at any who came close. Nobody took exception at it. With dozens of oversexed women living in close quarters, everyone had off days. She was given a wide berth.
=< O >=
By mid-afternoon, Kate had been rather forgotten by the others, distracted as they were with their games and plots. A bowl of grapes sat nearby. Occasionally she plucked one, removed the hookah nozzle to eat it. Then, while nobody was looking, she concentrated on a single grape in the palm of her hand. It was still for a moment, then it rolled about a bit. And then, oddly, it floated in the air.
Kate raised her hand and captured the small gravity-defying edible with a winning smile.
=< O >=
Night.
The curtains to all the sleeping quarters were closed, the usual sounds of women in repose (bound or otherwise) drifted on the incensed air.
Malik stumbled along, cursing the day Mistress Ra'idah had bought him. He'd been a nice household slave to El Falcone, a bedwarmer to the dynamic and demanding elder, a tutor (of sorts) to her trembling daughter. A very nice billet. But Ra'idah's offer was generous and El Falcone greedy, and here he was.
Here he was, indeed, stumbling through the central chamber of the harem at midnight, seeking unlikely mercy. These women, like spitfires! Demons! Succubi! For he'd been sandbagged again. A half-dozen giggling girls had tackled him, trussing his wrists behind his back with tight ropes. Then had come the play, coaxing him with their teasing touches, knowing his only response was one of pain given that his joy-shaft was locked in its tiny cage. So they'd had their sport before coupling into pairs to resolve their provoked desires. But before they'd left him, the final indignity: two little clips with butterfly faces, placed on his own nipples. Now he could only wander the moonlit hall, wrists still bound behind his back, hoping for unlikely release.
Then he noticed Kate sitting silently in a dark alcove, her hair black against the moonless sky beyond the barred window, a waterpipe hose jutting from her mouth. He didn't expect mercy from such an angry young girl. Nonetheless, he threw himself to his knees, silently imploring release.
She looked at him for a long moment. Then, without removing the pipe, she gestured for him to come closer.
“Settle into my lap, caged manni. Let me see what we can do to make you more comfortable.”
Malik did just that, sliding across the seat of her firm thighs, concious of the effect her proximity, warmth and softness had on him. Her silk-draped breasts were invitingly close. Then firm hands were pushing him down to lay against a mound of pillows, his bottom still seated across her firm legs, his wrists tucked beneath her thighs, occasionally brushing their smooth contours.
The cage was very tight.
“Let me get these frightful things off you,” she said maternally. Long fingers reached down to take hold of a clip, to slowly open its leering jaw, to release him. He gasped, once, twice, as he was freed.
“Poor little eunuch,” she cooed, leaning forward, her tidy breasts falling across him, her pouting lips delivering small kisses to his abused nipples. Again he gasped, this time from the pain of his cage. He tried to move but suddenly found his bound wrists trapped in the soft tangle of her long legs, her hands insistently pinning him, her torso smoldering against his.
“Please, Miss Kate, please. I am in agony...”
“Shhh-shhh-shhh,” she whispered, slipping a firm hand across his protesting lips. With her other hand she reached down, holding it just above the delicate little lock atop his cock-cage. Then her lustrous eyes closed and she focused.
Witches could pick up a tiny bit of magic off the members of her coven. Megan's power (or curse) of untangling, unknotting, untying and releasing was a vague concept to Kate. If you bound Kate up head to toe in tight ropes, she'd stay there for your pleasure. Backing knots out was beyond her weak efforts. But a tiny lock more ceremonial than anything else was doable. She focused. She cast.
With a click, Malik's cage popped open, releasing his manhood like a monster released from a dungeon.
He murfed over the top of her cupping hand, eyes wide.
“Shush,” she told him, taking a deep draw from her hookah nozzle. Then those same long fingers that had cast such wondrous magic closed on his shaft, gently squeezing, gently milking.
Fortunately Kate remembered the things Elsa the wayward milkmaid had said of her work in the dairy back in Sheepish. The tricks she used when squeezing man-juice out of her mannis, the ways to hold, judge, temper and delay. Kate did this now, working her grip up and down the purpling column, forcing Malik to lay and endure as she coaxed him towards inconclusion, laboring him with lust.
He tried to pull up once, fearful of what he'd seen and what she was now doing to him but he was still trapped in her grip. His legs weakly milled, his breaths becoming longer. Still she held him, lips in one palm, shaft in another, working him and working him until his lever-arm was red-hot, until she could feel its juices about to explode. Only then did she turn to him, nozzle clenched in her passion-chattering teeth, her own heart racing. On his manhood, her grip tightened, checking him from the heaven that was so close.
“I want something from you, Malik. One thing.”
“Umph.”
“Tomorrow, when Ra'idah calls down, you will select me.”
“Mmpfh!!”
“Of course you can.” Her thumb stroked up the side of his trembling shaft, up and down, slowly. “You do me a favor, and I do you...”
“UMPF!!!”
“...a favor. So, do we have an agreement?”
He was still in consideration, long enough to hear the blood pounding in his ears, long enough for her relentless grip to burn his soul. Then he nodded as best as he could, hand-gagged.
“Very good,” she purred. She took a deep draw on the hookah pipe like a diver pulling a breath off a tank, then leaned forward to take him into her mouth. Malik trembled, still mute and pinned. Then he convulsed and the deal was sealed.
=< O >=
There was always a bit of a letdown after a girl was trussed up and teleported to the top of the tower to face Ra'idah's pleasures (pleasure in the eye of the beholder, perhaps). Thus, Tanya, the white-mopped African-Magician, heaved a sigh. Kate had looked so cute tied up. Still, Tanya loved a lot of rope, ropes smooshing breasts, pinching knees, lacing up helpless flesh in erotic patterns. Yet for some reason Carin had been insistent to go easy on the cords. Something about a gut instinct of what was proper, as if Ra'idah's hungers were proper. Malik, the blustering cage-dangling eunuch, was no help, standing at his speaking tube, his nervous look not at all in keeping with his burly continence. So Carin had gotten her way, reducing the ropes binding the purple-haired Englander to the barest needed, wrists and ankles and a thick cloth gag. Miriam, as always, got ankles, leaving Tanya in the cold (though her pussy was anything but at this point).
And then Kate vanished, popped upstairs. Carin and Miriam drifted to the Sultha table. And Tanya, as always, was left with nothing.
Frustrated, she plopped down on the pillows still warm from Kate's presence. She plucked up the hookah, hoping to sooth her flushed passions with a little mellow tobacco. Yet when she took a draw off the pipe, she received quite the surprise. No soothing inhalation. Frowning, she checked the hose and found out it wasn't even connected to the hookah at all! No, the pipe dangled outside the window, allowing her to draw nothing but pure desert air. Pah! Who wished such when there was aromatic tobacco or even the ever-present incense to enjoy?
Not giving the curious occurrence the slightest second thought, the bouncy witch focused her attentions on getting the waterpipe back into service.
14.05.12
story continues in Gai-Shift - Oasis Chapter 7: Kate's out of the Frying Pan... again!
o0o