Wild Time

 
        Mmm. Listen to the quiet sussuration of rain on the tile 
roof. A comfortable sound in the warmth of the lounge. The fire 
has burned down now, only the embers flaring briefly to life 
when the wind outside causes a draft in the fireplace.  
Lightning is flickering on the hills to the east; a reminder of 
the storm that passed over here a few hours ago,  and the 
unpredictable illumination compliments the glow of the 
fireplace, and the cool light from this laptop computer.  The 
candles that were burning before are just pools of wax now.
        I'm feeling very relaxed.  The house around me is 
radiating a beautiful sense of contentment and fulfilment.  
Upstairs five bodies are weary, and happy, asleep.  I'll join 
them in a moment; 2:00am is a bloody silly time to be typing 
away at a word-processor.  Still, the story won't let me rest 
until it's on paper,  so I'll persevere and write it while the 
emotions are still real.
 
        Pizza, red wine, good company, and a spa-pool.  House 
rules:-  no clothes to be worn in the pool.
 
        Saturday evening, Janene and Darryl came over to watch 
videos and christen the spa-pool.  They were armed with a nice 
bottle of Cabernet Merlot, and 'Cat People', the video.  
Nothing can compare to the throaty bass of David Bowies theme 
smiting the air through an intimidating sound system.  'Dial-a-
Dinos' pizza arrived as scheduled: 7:30pm.  The television had 
been hauled outside with the speakers from the amplifier, and 
the evening had become dark quickly.  We all stripped naked and 
quickly piled into the spa-pool to avoid the crisp, late winter 
air.
        The best scene from the movie is where Natasha Kinski is 
tied to the bed,  the camera angle is from directly above, 
looking down on her luscious naked body.  The hero who is tying 
her up spreads her legs just that little bit more,  for the 
camera.  Very tasty.  And then he fucks her.  Now you and I 
both know that she turns into a panther here,  and that she is 
helplessly tied to the bed.  I KNOW he fucks her again.  Who 
would miss an opportunity like that, right?
        Around 9:30ish the sky was beginning to turn black-on-
velvet with clouds,  and the slight breeze picked up.  It was 
too unpleasant to remain outside,  so we hastily picked up the 
entertainment and headed indoors just as the first spatterings 
of rain began to speckle the cobblestones.
        I started the fire, and dimmed the lounge lights, and the 
four of us sprawled out on cushions in a semi-circle around the 
flickering warmth.  We were all wearing naught but bathrobes.  
Darryl deftly fashioned a joint to pass around.  The mellow 
buzz it produced complimented the light-headedness of the wine 
so that we were all relaxed and at ease in the glow of each 
others company.  The conversation flowed and ebbed,  drifting 
from topic to topic; briefly alighting on one subject before 
flitting to the next.
        A momentary bright flash of light followed a couple of 
seconds later by a deep rumble meant the storm was building up 
to greater strength,  and the rain went suddenly from a gently 
hiss on the tile roof to an undulating roar.
        Hamlet, our Great Dane dog, padded quickly into the 
lounge looking sheepish.  No doubt the storm was making him 
nervous,  and he had sought us out for the reassurance.  Xanth, 
our Mastiff bitch, was probably sleeping through it in the 
kitchen.   Hamlet stretched out his front paws and lowered his 
front half to the floor between myself and Darryl.  Eventually 
he lowered his tail-end to the floor too.  It seems to be an 
effort for him to get his rump down to the floor.  A friend of 
mine has this theory that Hamlets bum is full of Helium, and 
therefore lighter,  so it's harder to force it down to floor 
level.  Then he awkwardly shuffled forward on his elbows until 
his front paws were almost in the fireplace.  As the heat 
soaked into the heat-leech, he drifted off to sleep with his 
head on his paws.
        It was time, therefore, to bring out the deck of cards, 
for a game of strip poker.  Heather has a lovely deck; the face 
of each card has a highly detailed charcoal sketch of a sexual 
perversion.  The four suits are Spades = Self-abuse. For 
example the four of spades features a woman bringing herself to 
orgasm with a large, knobbled dildo;  the ten of spades 
features a man lying on his back on the floor with his legs 
lifted back over his head, cumming into his own mouth.  Clubs = 
Bondage;  variations on the theme of people tied / chained / 
shackled in various positions and situations;  the queen of 
clubs features a nude man on his knees with his hands cuffed 
behind his back, his head held down by a collar fixed to the 
floor so his chin is on the ground.  A woman dressed in classic 
'bitch' attire stands behind him forcing the handle of a large 
bull-whip up his arse.  Diamonds = Paedophilia.  Children from 
around age three to thirteen, boys and girls involved in sex 
with each other and adults.  
        Hearts = Bestiality.  I'm tempted to describe each card 
in detail here,  but I'll just give a description of my 
favourites.  The three of hearts features a charcoal drawing of 
a huge bulldog mounting a woman from behind, drooling on her 
neck as he fucks her.  The four shows a man screwing a gorgeous 
tigress.  The eight of hearts is interesting;  a naked man is 
held down on the ground by several monkeys, his arms and legs 
spread and immobile.  Most of the male monkeys are jerking 
themselves off, and cumming on the guy.  Two monkeys are 
licking his chest, and another is playing with his dick.  The 
big toe of the guys right foot is firmly implanted in the fanny 
of a female ape, who is pleasuring herself on him.  Several 
apes in the background are screwing / sucking each other.  
Quite a detailed little orgy.   Then there is the queen of 
hearts.  This depicts a nice picture of a woman swimming 
underwater on her back, embracing a male dolphin.  The drawing 
is such that her leg closest the artist is lower,  so the 
dolphins dick can clearly be seen entering her.
        O.K.,  so we were playing strip poker.  Remember, we were 
all only wearing bathrobes,  so after the first hand Heather 
was naked.  Then Darryl.  Darryl lost the next hand too.  What 
to do, what to do?  It's kinda traditional to play forfeits 
after a player loses strip poker,  and who were we to break a 
long-standing tradition?  Janene had won that hand so she had 
the right to set the forfeit.  With an evil glint in her eye 
she declared that Darryl had to retrieve the can of Whipped 
Cream from the refrigerator,  spray it on his balls, and let 
Hamlet lick it off.  Personally I thought that it was a rather 
daring forfeit to open the game with.  Evidently Darryl thought 
so too,  and scowled at her,  but went to the 'fridge anyway.  
He returned shaking the can vigorously.
        At the first touch of the cream on his balls he fairly 
shrieked that it was "Fucking cold!".   Hamlet was instantly 
wide awake at the first smell of the cream, and eagerly set to 
licking the sweet goo off Darryls balls as he knelt near 
Hamlets head.  Darryls scowl faded into a look of pleasure at 
the caress of Hamlets soft tongue.
        Next hand, Janene lost, so she quickly shed her gown.  I 
hate being the only one dressed,  so I deliberately misplayed 
my next hand,  and lost.  Janene lost the next hand, with 
Darryl the winner.  You should have seen the look of insane 
glee that leapt onto Darryls face!  He pointed to the can of 
whipped cream and declared that Janene had to spray it onto 
Hamlets balls,  and then lick it off.  The scowl she shot back 
at him would have frozen argon.  I commanded Hamlet to roll 
over onto his back, and he lay there with his back legs splayed 
out, wagging his tail.  Heather distracted him by scratching 
his ears while Janene sprayed the cream onto his balls.  He 
jumped when the cold touched him,  but lay fairly still.  Then 
Janene leaned over and, tentatively at first, began to lick the 
stuff off Hamlets ballbag.  Soon, with mounting enthusiasm, she 
was taking Hamlets whole ballbag into her mouth and sucking 
gently.  Everyone was getting quite aroused watching,  
including Hamlet!  Darryl decided she had forfeited enough, and 
that we better play the next hand before he lost control.
        I decided to misplay my next hand too, and lost.  Darryl 
had won again,  but before he set my forfeit, Heather grabbed 
the cards I had discarded earlier in the hand and showed them 
to the others.
        "How often do you throw out two aces in poker, hmmm?", 
she smiled sweetly at me.   Oops.  Busted.   Darryl set my 
forfeit, and Heather set my punishment;  for losing the hand 
Darryl wanted to sixty-nine with me,  and for cheating I wasn't 
allowed to cum.
        We lay on the rug on our sides,  face to cock, and I 
began to explore Darryls balls with my tongue.  Similar 
sensations were playing on my balls.  Nuzzling my face into his 
pubic hair I began to lick his shaft, feeling him do the same 
to my dick.  With one hand I began pulling his foreskin back 
and forward as my lips slipped over the swollen head of his 
dick.  This was echoed on my own dick,  which was putting me in 
serious danger of breaking my punishment by cumming.  Normally 
if I wanted to stave off orgasm for awhile I would bite my 
tongue, and think of something dull (just how DO you 
differentiate a quadratic equation...),  but with Darryls dick 
down my throat so I couldn't bite my tongue,  and the 
sensations he was ministering with his mouth and hands,  I was 
getting closer and closer to cumming.
        Heather and Janene were sitting close together, watching 
our performance.  By watching between Darryls legs I could see 
that Heather was gently massaging Janenes breast, while she in 
turn was stroking  Heathers inner thighs.  The way Heather 
leaned her head back with her eyes closed told me that Janenes 
fingers were getting a little more intimate.
        Suddenly Darryl tensed and his fingers dug into the flesh 
of my thighs as his cock spasmed in my mouth.  My taste was 
flooded with several quick spurts of his warm semen that I 
eagerly swallowed.  He was involuntarily squeezing and sucking 
hard on my dick as he came.  It was too much and I couldn't 
hold myself back any longer.  With an anguished gurgle of 
thwarted willpower I felt the waves of pleasure wash into me as 
I came into Darryls mouth. 
        We rolled apart slightly and I lay on my back on the rugs 
with my eyes closed to savour the departing tingles of 
pleasure.  A bright flare registered through my closed eyelids, 
punctuated by the telephone chirping in surprise.  Less than 
half a second later a huge crash of sound shook the whole 
house.  I jumped and opened my eyes to find the room mostly 
dark.  The storm had knocked the power out so the fire was 
providing the only illumination.
        Heather left the room in search, I guessed, of candles.  
A moment later I heard the rattle of wheels coming down the 
hall with the glow of candles preceding.  When the stocks 
rolled into the lounge, pushed by Heather,  I was a little 
surprised.  Xanth followed her in, woken at last by the storm, 
and flopped in front of the fire.
        I think I mentioned the stocks once.  They are something 
I built on a whim once when I had some timber left over from a 
wind-shelter.  It was built with comfort in mind (as much as 
that is possible with stocks).   It has a horizontal beam with 
three depressions cut into it, lined with velvet, for two arms 
and a head.  A matching beam fits over the first and is locked 
into place with a padlock,  holding the victim bent over so 
their head is only slightly higher than their bum, (adjustable, 
of course,  for shorter or taller people).  The victims feet 
are held immobile between the frame of the base by chained 
shackles (also velvet lined).  For comfort, a padded knee-rest 
has been provided so although the victim is standing bent at 
the waist,  there is little muscular strain and they can be 
held there for hours without discomfort (from the stocks, that 
is).
        Heather placed the candles around the room and the effect 
was quite pleasant;  the room took on an air of ritual, 
reverence.  She turned toward me, "Well,  you broke your 
forfeit a second time,  so you have to occupy the stocks until 
further notice."
        They locked me in, nude,  bent over and vulnerable.  And 
then they tortured me.  All I could do was watch as Heather 
began caressing Janenes nipples again, then she leaned over and 
began to lick them.  Gently she helped Janene lay back, and 
then ran her hands down Janenes body.  With her fingertips 
Heather traced lines down Janenes legs, then dragged her nails 
carefully up her thighs.  Janene spread her legs,  and Heather 
knelt between them, and lowered her head to kiss the exposed 
flesh of her sex.
        Hamlet suddenly stood and wandered over to stand over 
Janenes head.  He does that when he's horny and wants to be 
jerked off.  I thought Janene would ignore him,  but I was as 
surprised as Darryl when Janene reached up and began playing 
with Hamlets balls.
        Looking somewhat affronted, Darryl watched Janene rubbing 
Hamlets sheath back and forth over the dogs growing hardon,  
while Heather was tonguing her vagina lips.  Then Darryl 
shrugged his shoulders and started scratching Xanth down her 
back with his nails.  She glanced around and thumped her tail 
on the ground,  then abruptly rolled over, waving her legs in 
the air and snuffling.  Like Heather,  Darryl leaned over Xanth 
to lick her nipples, eight in all.  His tongue traced around 
each nipple,  then down to the 'Y' shaped opening of her pussy.  
I have never been keen on the taste of Xanth,  but Darryl was 
lapping her up with real enthusiasm.
        Watching the performance of Janene writhing with pleasure 
>from Heathers tongue, while the first squirts of Hamlets cum 
splashed into her mouth,  and Xanth bucking her hips up off the 
floor to meet Darryls tonguing was making me horny as hell.  
And I was stuck in the damned stocks,  for my sins.
        The thunder rumbled deeply again,  and Janene started 
cumming.  She wrapped her legs around Heathers head, and 
(rather rudely, I thought) pushed Hamlet away so she could grab 
Heathers hair with her fingers.  With a moan of pure delight 
she rocked her hips as Heather sucked on her clit.
        Xanth too seemed to be in the throes of ecstasy,  licking 
her lips and humping to force her own hot-spot against the 
pressure of Darryls mouth.
        I needed some action real bad,  so although I couldn't go 
anywhere,  I could still call Hamlet over.  Leaving the bodies 
writhing on the floor, he wandered over to me and snuffled at 
my balls with his cold, wet nose.  "Hup, Hamlet.  Hup",  I 
encouraged him.  No stranger to this kind of invitation, he 
jumped up and placed his front paws on my back.  Then he 
shuffled his feet forward until the tip of his thrusting penis 
was poking me around my arsehole.  Normally I would reach 
around with my hand and guide him into me,  but my hands were 
kinda restricted,  so all I could do was move my bum around and 
hope we connected.
        Eventually the pointed tip scored a hit on the hole, and 
he slowed his thrusting to a sustained push to get the length 
of his dick inside me.  Mmmm,  there is nothing like feeling 
the slow penetration of a dogs dick into your butt.  Then he 
dropped down so his chest was resting on my back,  and his 
front legs were grasping me around my waist so he could 
increase the tempo of his thrusting to a rhythmic pummelling.  
It was quite lucky that he didn't tie with me;  that is where 
the swelling at the base of his dick (in Hamlets case, a lump 
of flesh the size of a tennis ball) lodges inside my arse.  If 
he had,  at the rate he was fucking me he probably would have 
torn my arsehole to ribbons.  As he drove into me,  his balls  
slapped against my thighs,  and the knot of his dick stretched 
my sphincter to the point of pain trying to gain access.  
        Finally he stopped his frantic humping and just held me 
with his dick pulsing inside me.  Each pulse was a squirt of 
dog-cum into my rectum.  Personally I think this is the most 
sensual moment,  where Hamlet is deeply immersed in the flow of 
his orgasm,  just resting his body on my back,  and I am 
savouring the sensation of his dick swollen to its maximum 
size, pulsing inside me.
        The others were watching me and Hamlet now.  I didn't 
mind;  I've always enjoyed my sexual adventurousness.  With a 
grunt, Hamlet stepped off me, and his dick slid easily out of 
my hole.  He walked away slightly with his head down,  and dick 
hanging around his knees,  still squirting jets of clear liquid 
onto the floor.  Then he lay down and licked himself clean.
        Darryl was still hard from the erotic pleasure of licking 
Xanth,  so he stood and began caressing my ballbag from behind.  
I couldn't turn my head to look,  but when he grabbed my waist 
with his hands I knew what was happening next.  With a firm 
push, his dick slid into my arse, and for the second time that 
evening I was being fucked up the arse.  To be honest,  Darryl 
and Hamlet are about similar in diameter and length (except for 
Hamlets knot, the 'widowmaker'),  so he slid easily into me in 
the lubrication of Hamlets cum.
        He fucked me hard,  driving into me so my shoulders were 
pushed into the foam padding of the stocks.  His fingers clawed 
into the flesh on my hips giving me a mix of pleasure tempered 
with pain.  With a growl that scaled up into a roar of animal 
lust, Darryl slammed his dick into me, and started cumming.  
The intensity of it caused him to gouge the flesh of my hips 
leaving bruises that will take a week to vanish.  Then he 
leaned over me and wrapped his arms around my chest, hugging my 
back while his dick jumped and pulsed in my bowels.
        He lay like that,  on top of me until he started going 
soft again,  and his dick slipped out from me.  I clamped my 
sphincter tight to stop the liquid from following.  There was a 
polite smattering of applause from the two women as Darryl 
stood.  He undid the locks on the stocks on the condition that 
I would screw Xanth in front of everyone.  Definitely!!
        Janene and Heather swapped roles so that Heather was on 
the receiving end of Janenes oral manipulations.  Darryl was 
too fucked out to do much so he just lay on his side on the 
sheepskin rugs watching the performance.  With a hardon that 
was almost hurting,  and fire in my veins,  I called Xanth 
over.  She rolled over onto her feet and stood wagging her 
tail,  then snuffled at my damp arsehole to lick up the residue 
of Hamlet and Darryls release.  She forced her nose between my 
legs and squeezed through so my ballbag dragged along her back.  
I scratched down her back with my nails as she went,  and as 
her tail flicked along the crack of my arse and under my 
ballbag, we both shivered with pleasure.
        There was no need for lubricants.  Clear liquid from my 
arousal was flowing freely from the end of my dick,  and Xanth 
was well aroused from her encounter with Darryl.  I crouched 
slightly behind her and grasped her thigh with one hand.  The 
other guided my cock to her velvet-lined entrance.  Gently, but 
firmly,  I pulled her hip back as I pushed forward.  Entry was 
so easy, helped by my foreskin peeling back as the tip of my 
meat opened the soft lips of her pussy.  Warmth from her body 
surrounded my meat, and her muscles gently squeezed and 
released, squeezed and released along my dick.  I just closed 
my eyes and leaned my head back while I pulled her back onto my 
dick as hard as I could and held her there, savouring her 
tightness.
        Then I pulled out slightly,  just an inch or so, and slid 
back into her.  The again,  just and inch or so.  Paused 
slightly to savour her warmth.  Again I pulled out and slid 
back in,  a little faster and a little further,  and the 
friction of her tight hole stepped up my urgency.  Soon I was 
fucking her with a steady rhythm,  both of my hands on her hips 
pulling her back to meet my thrusts.  The pressure of my orgasm 
started to build and I couldn't hold back any longer.  As hard 
and as far as I could I forced my dick into Xanth in time with 
the waves of ecstasy washing into me.  For each pulse of my 
dick, there was an answering squeeze from Xanth,  and I howled 
with pleasure and release.  When I am fucking an animal, I 
become an animal myself.  The mantle of rationality drops,  and 
I become a machine designed to fuck.
        Spent,  I lay back onto the sheepskins where Xanth 
snuggled next to me.  At the calls of 'Encore! Encore!' from 
the onlookers, I raised my hand in a one-finger salute.
        We all lay together for awhile in the mellow glow of the 
fireplace,  and candles,  letting the evenings fulfilment 
blanket us while the storm played around the night.  Eventually 
we roused for a late night coffee,  then Heather, Janene, 
Darryl, Hamlet and Xanth headed upstairs to bed.  I was too 
wired from the coffee,  so I said I would join them after I had 
put a few thoughts to paper.
 
        Well,  the rain has stopped,  and the storm seems to be 
spent.  I can hardly keep my eyes open,  so I'll drop this in 
the batch upload queue and crash.  It's 4:00am Sunday morning. 
I wonder what the day holds.

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