Paying a Debt

Part Two – Pussy Cat gets a Taste of the Wild Side

Read part one of Paying A Debt – View Through The Window

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I’m plunged into darkness and glad for it. It seems a good way to hide, like if I can’t see them, they can’t see me. I realise it’s silly, but it gives me the extra push of bravado I need. My heart is thundering in my chest and my ears are echoing the rapid rhythm. I’ve clasped my fists behind me to conceal the constant tremble that occupies them.

“To teach you a lesson about spying, Pussy Cat, you’ll need to wear this blindfold the entire night. All the pleasure you experience, will have to be gained from your other senses. Once you’ve learned your lesson about being a nosy neighbour, I’ll remove the blindfold. That is also when you’ll have paid your debt. I will not be easy on you. I may cause you some pain, but in the end, tonight is about pleasure. Agreed?”

The tremble I tried so hard to hide is racking my entire body now. There’s no point in denying it. I lick my lips to moisten my suddenly parched mouth, but my tongue is dry too and simply rasps against them, offering no relief. Instead of speaking, I nod my head. Fingers are quickly on my masked face, soothing the frown lines that have formed at the corner of my mouth.

“Don’t worry, Pussy Cat. I’ll take good care of you. You can be sure I’ll give you the royal treatment.” He pauses for effect and it works wonders. I’m unable to decipher whether I’m more afraid, or more curious. Before I can figure it out, he continues. “First, I require your safeword. Choose something you won’t speak accidentally. Once it’s said, everything stops, and it’s game over.”

I reflect on his request for what seems an eternity. It’s probably the internal monologue though, and not actually elapsed time. Tomato? No, those are gross. Soya sauce? Hmmm. Maybe I’m just hungry. Elephant. Like the one in this room. No, that’s weird. Eggplant. Okay, we’re back to food. Damn, maybe I should have eaten something.

“Hippopotamus.” I say, feeling smug.

“Well, that’s certainly original and not something we’ll forget. I hope you can say it if needed. Let’s here it one more time, Pussy Cat. What’s your safeword?”

“Hippopotamus.” I repeat louder, working to keep the smile from my voice.

“Hippopotamus it is. And you, kitten. What is your safeword?”

The girl beside me, bound on her knees, barely whispers her response, “Silhouette, Sir.”

“You are quite the pair. Although I can’t imagine the silhouette of a Hippo would be much to look at. But the two of you, both on your knees, eager to please. That is a sight I will not soon forget.”

His witty reply carries the desired effect. We both chuckle and I feel the tension that has surrounded me fade away with the uninhibited laughter.

“Pussy Cat is a first timer, Kitten. Tonight is her introduction to our world. As she’s graciously gifted us this opportunity to pop her proverbial cherry, I think we should make it nice and sweet for her. What do you suggest, Kitten?

He must stroke her head or hair because she practically purrs. Sexual energy along with her lustful moans fill the room and press against me as if it’s a corporeal presence. It a heady sensation that makes my head spin.

“Yes, Sir. What do you want me to do?” she asks, the eagerness in her voice giving her desires away.

“I expect she needs an orgasm, kitten. She’s been peeking at us through the windows, getting herself all worked up. Should we have her get herself off, or give her a hand getting there?”

I’m open to either idea. My cunt has been weeping since before he knocked at my door, and a quick climax sounds like the cure all for that affliction. Without leaving me time to think about it, hands are on my shoulders, pulling me backward gently. I realise the hands are his when he whispers next to my ear, “lean against me.”

I do so willingly, not sure what to expect. Am I achieving orgasm on my own? Obviously, he’s not helping me reach that plateau, being busy and all. The only other option is her, and I’m unsure what to think of that. I’ve never been with a woman in a sexual manner. Apparently, my libido doesn’t care about gender though, the slut who lives inside me is available for whatever. The familiar ache that has become resident in my core since this man moved in next door teases me, making my clit tingle and my nether lips swell.

Leaning into his solid weight, my legs splay out before me, spreading wide as I try to control my descent. The scent of my arousal drifts to my nostrils and his chest expands as I hear him draw in a huge, deliberate lungful.

“Oh, Pussy Cat, you are in dire need of attention. You’d better hurry Kitten, she may internally combust.”

I yelp as something soft laps against my clit, just as arms surround my waist, gripping me tight.

“Wrap your arms around my thighs, Pussy Cat, and don’t move them unless I tell you. If you do, the only licks you’ll receive will be from my belt.”

I want to tell him he’s not wearing a belt, but I don’t see that boding well. Instead, I do as I’m told, which is likely a first, and spread my legs a little farther, press into his erection a little harder, informing him I’m ready for what’s to come.

“Oh, so eager, Pussy Cat. Okay, kitten, be gentle on her.”

Soft flickers reach my center and my hips buck, chasing the fleeting sensation, pressing closer, desperately struggling to increase the pressure. His arms tighten, holding me against him. With the realization that I’m at his mercy, I relax in his grip and do my best to remain unmoving. Again, the faintest movement whispers over my heated flesh and I fight the urge to press forward. Agonizingly slow, she laps at more and more of my delicate flesh, until she’s pulled my sensitive nub between her teeth, flicking it with the tip of her tongue. My thighs tremble with the task of holding still and allowing her to take me at her pace.

Panting breaths are racing in and out of my chest. A sweat has formed on my brow. She’s an expert with her tongue, but it’s not enough. Nowhere near enough to get me off. I require more. More pressure, more direct contact, more… anything. My teeth grind together as I attempt not to voice the verbal pleas I so eagerly wish to spew her way when his hands move from around me to cup my breasts. He lifts them, weighing them, feeling their fullness before letting them drop, the weight tugging enticingly. Before I can miss the heat of his palms, his fingers are on my nipples, twisting, pulling, kneading the sensitive orbs and my head tilts back as the novel sensation of his hands adds to the pleasure of her mouth. But I know even that’s not enough.

“I think she needs some help, kitten. She’s close, but needs some assistance to be brought over the edge. Start with a single finger, and we’ll know where we can go from there.”

He hasn’t finished speaking before she buries her digit inside my liquid heat. As she pulls it out, a squelching sound surrounds us, divulging how much I’m enjoying myself. She presses back in. The smooth, soft finger helps, but it’s too dainty to hit the right spots. It’s taking everything in my power to not thrust towards her, to not take what I need. I’m certain I’ve imbedded my fingernails in his thighs, but he doesn’t mention it.

I focus on his fingers, squeezing, tugging and plumping. He kneads my flesh gently, and then firmer, twisting roughly before plucking my nipples as far as they can go. I moan as his strong hands contrast the softness of her mouth, the moan turning to a groan as she sinks a second finger into me, simultaneously as he tugs painfully on my rosy, already abused tips.

The groan becomes a hiss as he pulls violently as her third digit enters me. Yes, that’s better. Much more to my liking.

His hands continue to massage and mould my breasts as her fingers plunge into my depths. My hips gyrate involuntarily, and each minuscule pump has me grinding against his cock which is growing harder behind me.

“Are you close, Pussy Cat? Are you ready to cum? Or do you desire something else?”

The options running through my brain are not helping my arousal. Visions of his hard rod buried in my pussy, her head buried between my thighs, is ramping up my desire to unimaginable heights.

“I need… I need,” I stutter, unable to form the words. Hearing the familiar rip of foil, I struggle to focus on what’s happening outside of the blackness that surrounds me. It’s no use. Her digits thrust into me at a rapid rate and her tongue is moving deliciously around my nub.

Suddenly I’m lifted, and her fingers are gone. I feel hollow and forlorn. I was so close, I want to cry. Before the groan of frustration has even left my throat, I feel his cock at my entrance and in a single movement, I’m deliciously and firmly seated on his lap, gaspsing as I’m impaled on his cock.

She doesn’t miss a beat and abruptly, I’m there at the precipice of release.

“I’m going to come!” I shout as if he didn’t recognize my impending climax from the clenching and pulsing of my greedy pussy.

An ear-splitting smack echoes through the room before I register the sting of his hands connecting with my thigh’s. It has the desired outcome, and I see brightly coloured spots behind my eyelids before a primal cry rips from my throat. He plows into me as the climax I have chased for so long rushes over me. Nectar is pouring from my cunt, my internal muscles milking him, even as her tongue continues in gentle, relaxing strokes.

I come down, vaguely registering his cock still stroking my insides unhurriedly.

“That was beautiful, Pussy Cat. Now that the matter of your much needed climax is out of the way, we can get on to what I really had planned for tonight.”

To be continued…

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For more about pleasure, hit the bullseye.

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You can find more fiction by MrsK here.