A Couple Brought Together Act 02

"See you later. I'll give Jane your love."

*** *** ***

My visitor arrived bang on eleven o'clock.

His name was Jacques, a Frenchman with the acronym 'Circus Ringmaster'. He'd flown over from Paris for the weekend to pierce Jane's labia for me. He was a dominant I'd come across on a social site and he specialised in female chastity.

He was accompanied by his slave Helene. She was pierced with six matching pairs of 8ga steel rings the length of her outer labia. They were locked together with a C-type Lustlock-brand padlock, a bit like a large safety pin. She was pierced from the very top of her labia majora sealing her clitoral hood and locked all the way down almost to her perineum.

It looked very neat and impenetrable. She was not only chaste, she couldn't even rub her clit or cunt with sufficient friction to stimulate herself. Certainly not to orgasm.

Helene had already been living like that for three whole years. Very occasionally, like maybe once a month, Jacques would unlock Helene and fuck her, if she was good, allowing her to cum against his cock. But the rest of the time, she had only her asshole, mouth and hands to pleasure him. And not just him, either.

Helene's was the life that Jane wanted to live as well. Well, she thought she did.

Jacques had told me to prepare white towels, antiseptic wipes, other essentials, while he'd brought the rest of the kit he required; a dermal punch like a hole-puncher and a large tin of shiny steel rings of various thicknesses.

We tied Jane's wrists and waist to the table. Jacques always works without anaesthetic. We strapped her ankles back to her own thighs so her knees were wide open in a v.

"You want to fuck her one last time?" he asked, in his excellent but French-accented English.

"No. Her cunt's still stinky with last night's load."

He fingered Jane open and peered inside. "I may?"

"Sure."

We'd agreed beforehand. It was part of our deal. He'd also shown me a recent STD test. Jacques wanted to ride Jane bareback.

"Help yourself to Helene, if you wish." He offered in return.

I watched him nonchalantly unzip his jeans and lower them to his ankles. He had a big paunch and thick grey hair covering his shoulders and chest. His body smelt of stale cigarettes.

"Eyes open." I said to Jane, looking down at her expression. I wanted her to see the stranger she was fucking so that he'd pierce her labia for free. At 66, he was more than twice her age and was even fifteen years older than her dad!

Jacques casually eased his erection into her splayed cunt and rested his hands on Jane's tits. He slid balls-deep into her sogginess without any effort. I saw him wink down at her.

"Her cunt is rather sloppy, non?"

I shrugged. "You can see why I want it locked up."

Jane blushed scarlet. Her mouth opened in an 'o' as Jacques started accelerating his thrusts. I looked into her eyes, trying to read them, searching for the combination of deep humiliation and masochistic desire I hoped to see. Her nipples didn't lie. They were hard. Her eyeballs rolled into the back of her head.

I checked the camera lenses. The first was mounted on a tripod recording Jane's face throughout. The second was freestanding on a table, videoing a side view. I picked it up and filmed a close up of Jacques from the neck down. He was fucking her dispassionately, like he was simply jerking himself off using her cunt.

It was an erotic sight.

My first loan of Jane.

You see, when it comes down to it, a dick is a dick is a dick. There aren't really handsome dicks or ugly dicks, kind dicks or unkind dicks, intelligent dicks or charming dicks. They're all really, give-or-take, the same. Yeah, some are slightly larger or smaller, various shades of colour, but otherwise pretty much the same.

It's the bodies and minds they're connected to that make the difference. A normal woman can choose a partner based on his looks, his kindness, his wit, his charm, his wallet, her preferences. She gives herself to him because of who he is, never really because of his dick (well, almost never!).

A normal woman naturally has a strong say in when, where and how often she has sex. She can wait until she's married, or until they've been seeing each other a while, or she can fuck a guy on their first date, whatever she feels comfortable with. She can deny a dick her mouth or her asshole, choose whether to fuck doggy style or cowgirl, in private or in public places, five times a day, or once a week in the dark on a Saturday night.

In short, it's about her right to choose.

But a slave-slut forfeits that right.

I wanted Jane to experience the taboo. Instead of handsome, kind, amusing, generous, nice men of her age and background, I would favour dicks that belonged to the not-so-good, the bad and the downright ugly.

Jane would have zero say in who, when, where, how long, or how often. A vagina can easily be fucked for a couple of hours. Let's face it, if a single guy has the stamina to keep going for two hours, chicks are impressed.

But a woman's cunt itself doesn't actually know whether it's the same dick for two hours or 60 guys fucking it for a couple of minutes each!

Best of all, however, was that it wouldn't even be Jane's pussy taking the brunt of her promiscuity. It would be her asshole and mouth. This session in her cunt with Jacques was just a quick last hurrah before lockdown.

"Come here." I gestured to Helene.

In truth, Jacques' slave was a bit mature for my taste, but I didn't want to seem impolite to him. I was dressed in old corduroys and I pointed to my zipper.

Besides, I wanted Jane to witness another woman sucking me. There were two messages I wanted to give her. First, I offered no fidelity. I'd continue to fuck and suck whoever I liked, when I liked. And secondly, I'd trade her. I'd barter her nubile young body to get myself fresh pussy.

The sounds of fucking and sucking filled my drawing room; slapping flesh and wet orifices, male groans and female moans. There was that distinct fragrance of sweat and sex and stale tobacco around us.

I pointed the video camera down at Jane.

"Having fun?"

"Gnnhg ..." she grunted.

"Say hi to Chris. Blow him a kiss."

"H ... hi." She pouted her lips.

I could tell by Jacques's movements and noises he was about to cum.

"Yesssss!" I encouraged him, panning the camera up from his hairy belly and Jane's hairless mound, up to her flushed face, and down her body again. I pushed Helene's lips away from my cock.

"Beautiful." I added, as Jacques withdrew, and I moved round to film Jane's ravaged pussy and the creamy residue he'd deposited inside her as it dripped onto her thighs.

Now it was time for him to begin the delicate operation.

*** *** ***

Being a bit squeamish, I decided to leave the Ringmaster to his skilled task. I took Helene downstairs to use her dexterous skills on my convict.

Chris was obviously shocked to see me accompanied by a semi-naked, vaginally-pierced stranger in her fifties. I was carrying a leather wash bag.

"Don't ask." I said to his enquiring eyebrow. "It's none of your business."

He was sweating profusely. His forehead was red and he was grimacing. But the plastic cup was still dangling on the end of his erection.

Helene laughed a little French-accented chuckle.

The bucket between his legs didn't have any shit in it yet. He'd done well not to succumb to the Lactulose.

"Good boy." I said. "This is Helene. She's your reward."

I plucked the cup off his horizontal dick.

"I'm going to leave Helene looking after you."

I pointed to the surveillance camera.

"But don't make him cum." I said to her. "Understood?"

She grinned wickedly. "Bien sur."

I lingered a moment to enjoy the sight of her practised fingers slowly fondling Chris's dick back up to maximum rigidity. She stroked him agonisingly slowly. She had long red nails, almost talons, and wrinkled still elegant fingers. She teased his nipples, stomach and balls, all the time staring longingly into his eyes.

I handed her the wash bag. "Now shave him."

There were barber's scissors, steel tweezers, soap, a lethal cut-throat razor and a bottle of baby oil.

She quickly chopped the length off his pubic hairs with the scissors; snip-snip, snip-snip, and tufts of red hairs floated down to the concrete floor, some landing in his bucket. In no time, his groin was sporting a raggedy crew cut.

His fear soon softened his erection and she had to give him some encouraging jerks back to full stiffness.

Next, instead of shaving him, she began plucking the remaining hairs out with the tweezers. She lifted his dick and yanked hairs from his scrotum, coiling them round the steel tips like an Italian twirling spaghetti round her fork.

"Ahh ... sss." Chris objected.

I left them to it and went up to check on Jacques' progress.

There was scarlet blood on the white towel below Jane's thighs. He had used a little numbing cream on her to dull the worst of the pain. He was taking his time, peering into her cunt, carefully punching perfect, neat holes in her labia and then inserting steel rings. Each pair was parallel, beautiful and shiny.

He was wearing little half-spectacles and a head torch.

"She is being a good, brave girl." He murmured, without looking at me.

"I'm glad to hear it."

Jane's eyes were full of tears. She was sobbing gently, hissing whenever she felt a sharp jolt of pain. He tapped her hip. It was obviously a sign he'd already taught her. Jane arched her back and spread her thighs to make her cunt even more accessible to him.

He glanced up at me and winked.

"She has good anatomy. Her clit will be totally inaccessible, I think."

"Excellent. I really hope so." I carefully dabbed a tear from Jane's eye with a tissue so she could see my face. "It's vital she can't pleasure herself. Isn't it slut?"

Her reply was half-whisper and half-hiss. "Yes, Sir."

Jacques had reassured us beforehand that if all went well, Jane would be unable to masturbate herself to any sort of vaginal or clitoral orgasm as long as she was padlocked. She should be able to use a narrow pipette to wash her own labia for daily hygiene purposes. Then every few days I'd unlock her for a supervised deep swab.

I looked down into her brimming eyes. She was biting her lower lip.

"Okay?"

She answered me with a tiny brave nod of her head.

I stroked her cheek comfortingly. "Well done."

I glanced over at my laptop. It was broadcasting the scene downstairs. Helene was now removing the final few pubic strands from Chris's groin with the razor. He was as bald and helpless as his wife.

I felt the old familiar stir in my own groin and looked down at Jane's mouth. I was looking forward to another blowjob, this time in the knowledge that her cunt was zipped.

Yes, preparations were coming along nicely.

COMING SOON

ACT THREE: CONFLICT