21. Saskia

Chapter 21

Saskia

Time loses all meaning when you’re bound and blindfolded. Now and then I hear them whispering, conspiring. I hold my breath, willing my heartbeat to quieten so I can make out their words. Their plans for me.

Trying to follow along with the movie is pointless, and Casper and Henry take great delight in their silent teasing.

On the way to the kitchen, someone tickles the exposed inside of my thighs, then later someone else— or the same person, who knows? —drags their nails down them, hard enough I’m sure they’ve left a mark.

One of them pulls the cups of my bra down, but then I feel a mouth on each nipple, sucking so hard I almost rip the chains. If they kept it up, I could probably come from that alone. I whine when they release me too soon, working together to attach a clamp to one nipple, then the other.

"I hate you," I moan, and they suppress their laughs as they leave me again.

At one point, Henry makes microwave popcorn, and I can tell it’s him from the way he hums to himself in the kitchen. The warm, buttery smell fills the cottage and my stomach rumbles even though I ate a decent breakfast. Just when I think he’s about to head back to the sofa, I sense him pause at the foot of the table.

“Open your mouth,” he orders, and I open wide, just in time for a piece of popcorn to bounce off my forehead. “Oh dear, better luck next time, sweetheart.”

I’m about to snap back with some bitchy retort when suddenly his voice is close to my ear, his breath tickling my cheek.

“I’d have eaten your cunt if you’d caught that.”

He licks my mouth, dragging his warm tongue across the seam of my lips, pulling away before I can kiss him back. I suck at my lips, one at a time, desperate for the salty taste of him. Anything to tide me over while I ride out their torture.

Later, just as the action picks up on the television, I hear one of them fetch beers from the kitchen, dropping two bottle caps into the sink.

Casper.

I’ve told him a thousand times to stop doing that.

He pauses between my spread thighs, and I listen carefully to the sound of bubbles fizzing in the bottle, his throat rolling as he swallows a long pull.

Knowing he’s watching me is a huge turn on, and I wonder what I must look like from his perspective. Is my skin flushed? Can he see how much I’m throbbing between my legs?

I expect him to leave me again, but when he presses the cold bottle against the inside of my thigh, I yelp and almost break the chains. He drags it up and pushes it hard against my damp underwear. I’ve never wanted to fuck something so much in my life.

"Do you need to use your safe word, angel?"

Part of me wants out of here. I know I could use it and they'd stop all of this teasing and tormenting. The other part of me knows the pay-off will be phenomenal, so I shake my head, and he goes.

Despite being almost naked, the fire keeps the room warm, and I think about letting myself nap, but I’m too excited to switch off. My limbs, trembling with anticipation, begin to ache, and I know I’ll feel stiff tomorrow.

Finally, I hear Let it Snow and the end credits roll.

“Such a great film,” Henry says. “Shall we make it a double bill?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I cry out.

If they start another movie, I’ll break out of these chains and make myself come before they can do anything about it. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t even need them at this point. One touch of my clit would be all it takes to make myself go off like a rocket.

“Did you hear something?” Casper laughs, and I could kill Henry for laughing along with him.

“No, I don’t think I did.”

Two sets of footsteps stalk towards me, sending a fresh batch of goosebumps zipping all over my skin. Casper wasn’t lying when he told Henry how much I love the anticipation of being touched, of being pleasured, but this has gone too far now.

“I think it was a needy little slut,” Casper says. “Have you seen one around here?”

Warm hands palm my legs, stroking up and down, but nowhere close to where I want them.

“What do you think, Casper?” Henry says, and my ears place his voice further away. “Should we give her our gift and fuck both her holes tonight?”

I clench around nothing, shocked at how much it turns me on to hear them plotting against me as if I’m not right here laid out before them. Henry hums, and that simple noise alone feels like an exquisite threat.

“I think she might need a little preparation,” Casper answers.

“Do you have anything we could use to get her ready for us?”

They rummage in the toy box, and I know full well there is a selection of plugs he could choose from. I like the pink glass bulb best, but Casper is all about the visuals, and I know he likes a larger plug with a flared base and a heart jewel.

We picked it up on a trip to Paris years ago, and he made me wear it to dinner. That was the night I confessed how much I longed to have all my holes filled at once, to give my body over to the most depraved cravings.

When he vowed to make it happen, I hadn’t believed him, assuming it was a promise uttered in a moment of ecstasy, soon to be forgotten. Clearly, it’s never left his mind.

"Do you need to use the bathroom before we begin?" he asks, stroking the backs of his fingertips down my stomach. Casper is a well-seasoned pro when it comes to anal play, and if there's one piece of knowledge I'd want him to pass on to Henry, it's that it takes a little time to work me up to it.

"I'm all good," I answer, a little distracted by the thought of taking them both later. "I'm ready."

The squelch of a bottle of lube drags me back into the present, and I yelp at the sensation of cold, slick metal pressing against me. The pressure, then the stretch, does little to quell the ache that’s been building for god knows how long.

I learned early on that taking away one of my senses skyrockets everything else. If I can’t use my hands, my body is thrumming with the need to be touched. If I can't see, my ears are on alert for even the tiniest of aural clues. My imagination runs wild, and I have an almost out-of-body experience picturing us from all angles of the room.

There’s no way to tell what they’re doing right now, but the vision of them both squatting to watch the plug open me up almost makes me come on the spot.

“Now then,” Henry muses. “I can't decide whether to deny her orgasms or give her so many it makes her cry.”

A ragged sob escapes me. “You've been denying me for the full length of a movie. If you keep this up, I’ll cry anyway.”

“What’ll it be, Casper?” Henry asks.

“Well,” he sighs. “As much as I like the idea of making her wait, our time here is limited. It would be a shame for us to not make the most of it.”

“Hmm, great point.” His fingers tug the elastic on my underwear, snapping it against my skin. “We should have taken these off because we put your chains on. I’ll have to cut them off.”

“No, you just gave them to me!” I protest.

“I’ll buy you another pair.”

His footsteps retreat, and I hear the kitchen drawer open and close before the snip-snip of the sides being cut. He yanks them out from underneath me, tossing them aside. He drops to the floor, and I feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over my aching flesh, his tongue sweeping through me, and behind my blindfold, I see stars.