The Brass Bordello Bed

She shivered and bucked as some invisible energy helped raise her butt into the air, then something firm, no, two firm things, spread her cheeks wide apart. Something wet, wonderfully slithery explored her private openings. The warmth moved from her clit and unexpectedly drove itself smoothly, deeply into her bottom, stretching her anus and wiggling about deep inside her.

Laura nearly howled aloud: only the fear of bringing her parents down upon her prevented it. Instead, she bit her lip. Hard. Then the warmth slid itself out of her bottom and returned to her clit, pressed firmly, rotated.

Farther up, two delicious unknown somethings tweaked and pulled at her nipples, making lightening inside her: then they slid down her abdomen. The movement was entirely purposeful - she felt those somethings slip into her, where they give her belly muscles something substantial to pinch down on - How NICE! - and she climaxed over and over and over, clamping down powerfully on those two whatevers buried inside her bottom and pussy. What an amazing and unexpected combination. Not to mention EFFECTIVE! Mister Bed was certainly expert. A fine purchase!

Very, very slowly, Laura's climactic balloon lowered her down onto the bed again. She let her eyes open dreamily: she realized that her hands were free of the headboard: in fact, they were down beside her bottom. Dazedly she felt about: her butt was tilted radically up in the air, her legs spraddled wide, her whole crotch aching magnificently, her pussy in particular feeling as if it had been at white heat and was only now cooling to where it no longer glowed with an internal light.

How in the world, she thought, did the pillow get under my BUTT like this? Moments ago her hands had been snugly pinioned - hadn't they?

Slowly, she raised herself up and slipped off the mattress, stood on the floor, and looked at the bed: in the moonlight, on the pillow where her bottom had been, there was a serious damp spot, as big as her whole palm! She giggled and touched it: it was still warm, and very slippery, different from what she'd come to expect from her own body.

This was all deeply puzzling, but for some reason not at all frightening. She entered the bathroom, and turned on the overhead light: her crotch felt wonderfully warm and tingling, and as she looked down her belly, she felt something drizzle slowly out from inside her and wet the inside of her thigh from crotch to knee. Curious, she put one leg up on the toilet, and used her hand mirror to examine herself... her lips were certainly red and swollen, and there was some sort of funny, white, slightly thickish stuff that had run out of her to make the wetness she was looking at. And as she watched, the wetness seemed to simply evaporate, slowly at first, then more and more rapidly, until in seconds it was no longer there.

But her crotch was very wet, still. Odder and odder, she thought, then grinned at how much that felt like a line from Alice in Wonderland. She glimpsed herself full-frontal in the main mirror. Her nipples and areolas were greatly swollen, and there, on the skin over her ribcage, were two distinct, symmetrical discolorations, white against her flushed skin. They looked just like handprints, she thought, but as she studied them they faded as fast as the wetness had evaporated, leaving her to consider reality versus imagination yet again.

She went back to the bed: the pillow displayed no damp spot.

Gloriously exhausted, confused, puzzled, and satisfied all at once, she rearranged the pillow and lay down across the bed. She was asleep in minutes.

Next morning she awoke slowly, feeling the mattress cradling her ever so nicely. She drowsed for minutes, and only after a long time did she realize that she was perfectly covered and tucked in... tucked in in a way she could not possibly have done for herself. Must have been her parents - she wondered why she hadn't awakened.

At breakfast, Dad asked her how she'd slept, and she replied "Really well... Mr. Bed and I are going to get along just fine! He's very comfortable, even if the mattress is so old. I'm glad we didn't get a new one... and I know you'll both think I'm silly, but he seems really happy to be here. In the moonlight last night he was almost smiling at me!"

Mom sighed, the obvious thought being "Oh dear, there she goes again!", and Dad replied "I'm sure Mr. Bed is happy here, and I'm really glad you like him."

Chapter Five: Second Night

Laura spent the day daydreaming about last night: what a wonderful, strange night! Her crotch tingled so strongly just from thinking about it: at one break she spent several minutes in the privacy of a bathroom stall, her skirt up around her waist and panties clutched tightly in her teeth for silence, legs widespread over the bowl, fingers dancing a furious tattoo against her clit until she climaxed hard and fast, shaking from its intensity.

That night, after dinner, she watched television for a little while, then declared that it was time for her to go to bed, and traipsed off to her room.

As she entered, Mr. Bed seemed to look at her. How inviting he seemed, all smoothly made up. Laura contemplated him in the bright light of her ceiling fixture, then turned and locked her door. It was really too bright, she thought, and switched off the lights. Moonlight glittered across Mr. Bed again: this is how he should be seen, she thought.

Slowly she disrobed: actually, this time she thought of herself as stripping, not just undressing... there was something special about this business of taking her clothes off before Mr. Bed. She loved the process, feeling her skin exposed to the air, and the cloth sliding over her skin. Her panties were stuck between her lips from the earlier bathroom activities, and came free with a tiny electric tug and jerk.

Mr. Bed seemed to be watching: she could sense his approval. Suddenly she had a most interesting thought, and padded across the room to the pile of un-sorted stuff in the corner. From it she retrieved an awkwardly-shaped mirror, about two feet by three, the one she loved to squat over when she masturbated so that she could see her own secret parts.

She set it on the mattress, leaning against the footboard. She adjusted it slightly: "If anything is going to happen tonight," she thought, "I'm going to be able to see it - if the rules permit! Maybe the 'eyes-closed' only applied sometimes, in special circumstances?" She hoped so, anyhow. Mr. Bed seemed amused but compliant... certainly not against the proposition.

Laura sat down on the mattress, then lay back and adjusted the pillow beneath her head, feeling Mr Bed give and shift beneath her, comforting, warm, exquisitely sensual... the fabric seemed to flow against her skin continually, even when she wasn't moving about, and her entire back felt like a giant hand was caressing her.

She sagged deeply into the sensations, and her arms went up above her head again. This time, she closed her eyes and gently, carefully stroked Mr Bed's curlicues, her fingertips following the intricate tracery about, touching, prodding gently, tickling, caressing: Mr. Bed seemed to appreciate her ministrations... a sense of contentment and excitement radiated from him and filled both her and the room itself.

Her crotch was wet and getting wetter as she fondled the headboard: then, once again, her fingers were tangled in that complex maze, and though she tugged lightly, they remained gently trapped. And now began again the gentle secret quiet stroking of her clit, the lapping across it, spreading her lips and making her juices flow down the crack of her butt in clear salty droplets down onto the covers beneath her.

It went on for minutes, raising her excitement steadily to a feverish pitch, then holding it there with precisely the correct placement and firmness of gliding touches.

Unbidden, as if they were being raised for her by some unfathomable force, Laura's legs went up, up, higher and higher, back over her head, spread far apart, until her feet touched the headboard. She tucked her toes around a bit of curl, and gripped with them, monkey-like. Moments later, she tried to wiggle them free: like her hands, they were somehow tangled, and apparently stuck.

She felt so exposed like this, her butt in the air, legs apart, This should have been an exceedingly embarrassing posture - had there been anyone to see her. But of course there wasn't and instead it was terrifically exciting in its exposure and vulnerability.

The cool, friendly breeze wafted over her crotch, seeming to leave little fires behind. Her crotch ached for a renewal of last-night's touches.

Then, very gently, something firm and warm touched her dripping inner lips, exposed to direct touch by the swollen outers, both pairs so inflated that they actually parted, gaping widely. She quivered, and the toucher, whatever it was, slipped gently up and down the entire length of her slit, from the top of her pubis, over her clit, down between her inner lips - pressing solidly against her pussy's opening, then sliding farther down, across the flat little perianal space between vagina and anus, paused at the pucker and pressed firmly, suggestively against it, making her shiver involuntarily, then retraced the path, over and over and over.

Laura responded mightily, straining upwards and pushing towards the sensations, as if trying to submerge herself in them... the increased pressure helped, but something very specific was missing. The ache was almost, but not quite, satisfied.

There was another long pause, and the delicious pressure was back, her Force (she knew it needed to be capitalized) settling firmly, precisely against the opening to her pussy, right where her fingers so often went inside.

The pressure grew, and as it did, so too grew a bubble of warmth inside her belly. She heaved upwards against the pressure, felt her special opening being stretched wide, wider, impossibly wide, heat and light and honey and electricity all mixing together in her crotch, her insides scalding.

Then there was the most incredible, exquisite spreading and sliding sensation as something big and warm and LONG oh GOD so long and thick and such an amazing texture almost hard, not quite soft, not entirely smooth ... it drove gently, steadily, slowly all the way up inside her into the very depths of her private soul, until she could feel it hitting bottom. There it stopped - it wriggled and stroked in tiny movements that bode well to explode her brain with pleasure.

She sighed deeply and shook as the penetrator, whatever it was, slowly retreated... it felt every bit as good leaving as entering. Now it began a rhythm, a long slow in-sliding, a pause and heavy throb or twitch deep inside to stir up her insides, and a long, slow retreat... over and over and over it entered, slid in full-depth, retreated... slowly gaining speed, her juices running freely down her buttcrack below her stretched hole.

Her Force, massive but also, contradictorily insubstantial, seemed to hover in the air above her legs, radiating warmth, as the steady pile-driving rhythm continued. Now there came a weight pressing on the backs of her thighs. Immediately, like another violin joining a full-throated orchestra, there was added what seemed for all the world like a set of fingertips stroked across each nipple, pressing and twisting and turning them delightfully hard, just short of pain, spreading white light throughout her brain.

Laura began to gulp and gasp out loud, and the intensities of all the stimuli ratcheted up a whole level. Now her heart was pounding, she could barely breathe, her legs and arms were quivering... and slowly, carefully, she opened one eye, hoping that last night's rules might not be entirely in play tonight.

The rules had definitely changed - despite her eyes being open, the sensations continued unabated.

Past her hip she could see the mirror: a beam of intense moonlight played across her uplifted, totally exposed and open-to-the-world pelvis, illuminating the seat of her sensations. In the mirror she could see herself clearly. But she was certain that she hadn't positioned the mirror quite like that, she remembered. It must have shifted a little bit with all of her bouncing: at any rate, it was perfectly placed so she could study what was happening to her.

In between her gasps and involuntary heavings, she watched her crotch in the moonlight, amazed... her swollen outer lips were wide open, surrounding a dark hole, almost perfectly circular. The hole looked empty, apparently being held open by her mysterious Force, but her entire groin felt full - completely, wonderfully, very correctly and perfectly full.

Both outer and inner lips were dripping wet, glistening. As she watched, Laura could feel her insides being pulled slightly outward by the retreat stroke, and she could actually SEE the lips themselves being pulled outwards, as if clinging to something solid yet invisible. Then during the return plunge she could see them being dragged the other way, folding and inverting a little, throwing off amazing sensations as they did so.

The Force withdrew completely, leaving her with a sorrowful sense of loss and emptiness as she watched her lips slowly close the hole that had been so beautifully -if invisibly- occupied. Before she could muster any real regrets about the change, she felt the Force returning, just slightly lower, pressing against her anus, sliding about deliciously, gently in the overflow of lubrication from her pussy.

As she watched the tissues around her anus dented inwards, a tiny dark opening appeared, stretching wider and wider as the pressure built delightfully, as the Force sought entry into this new and unexpectedly wonderful place. Then came the final bursting-through into her insides as her anus stretched almost but not quite to the point of pain and let the invisible, long, hot solidness slither up inside.

At the first thrust, she pulled back slightly, almost afraid of what might be coming. The Force seemed to pause... as if waiting... then Laura heaved herself fiercely upwards against it, wanting it far up inside her, demanding that the penetration carry through to whatever it's conclusion might be, felt her Force -long hard thick solid- slide into her. When it could go no further, she lost control and she and the Force began to fuck one-another solidly, deeply and slowly.

She tried to watch the in and out of her stretched anus, and to match her internal sensations with the sight, but all her observations were caught up and buried by the sensations from the thrustings, The tempo and depth increased, her eyes closed again and she bit her lip through climax after climax after climax, until she finally sank back exhausted on the covers.

She lay there nearly torpid, but the lovely penetrations of both her openings continued, alternating wonderfully between pussy and ass, every stroke long and extremely slow and overwhelmingly sensuous. Laura felt as if she were totally open to the universe, and receiving the whole of it entirely within herself with each entry into her body.

Soon, the penetrations picked up intensity and drove into her harder, faster, deeper, almost frantically, until she was spread-eagled beneath them, bouncing in time with them. Deep within the Force itself she could sense an intense urgent need, and she wanted to fill it, return the favor being bestowed upon her.

Her body told her how to do that thing: she concentrated her being into her crotch and ass, clamped down hard, harder... willing something, anything to happen that could satisfy the Force's all-consuming urgency. Harder and harder she squeezed, and ever more solidly the Force pounded into her, until at long last, incredibly far inside her, she felt the Force's powerful release, something hot and warm and wet bathed her insides, and the Force was calming from pounding to soaking, down to deep twitchings and slow relaxing.

She could feel the sense of gratefulness, of resolution, emanating from inside her, and she was so happy to have been able to help.

Slowly the feeling of holding another being within her, which had been so all-pervading throughout the joining, gradually faded away, leaving an intense sense of comfort and warmth.

When her eyes fluttered open, she was taken by the sight of the mirror, leaning on the footboard. Stiffly, she got to her knees, turned on her reading light, knelt with knees widespread over the mirror to examine herself. As she watched, her insides gave a little lurch, and out from between her still-swollen pussy-lips ran a small flood, sudden, quick driblets of thick, whitish fluid, dripping onto the mirror. Even as she reached to touch it, it began to disappear, the splatters and spots growing smaller and smaller, and then it was gone.

She wondered if this, too, was part of her overactive imagination? But no matter how she thought about it, tried to declare the whole business to have been some sort of dream, her pussylips were still red, swollen and tingling.

Laura went into the bathroom and sat down gingerly on the toilet. It almost, but not quite, hurt to spread her legs. She felt full down there in her bottom, as if overdue for a bowel movement, and wondered if the muscles so recently stretched out would still work at all. She took a deep breath and bore down, produced an amazing, long drawn out fart. Laughing aloud and staring down between her legs, she could see the fart's ripples on the surface of the water.

When it finally finished, she stood up, empty but satisfied, and looked into the bowl. Floating there, long strings of whitish matter, just like what had slid down her leg last night. She stared, then touched herself, and found her anus slippery with it. Thoughtfully, she wiped herself clean and watched the paper and its cargo swirl down the drain. Slowly she returned to the bed, and placed the mirror back against the wall.

As she slipped under the covers, Mr. Bed's mattress snuggled her into itself, welcoming beyond belief. In seconds she was fast asleep.

Chapter Six: The Next Nights

Thereafter, each night was a different adventure. Laura looked forward greedily to each experience, not knowing what might happen on any given night, sucking up the powerful sensations and wallowing in her satisfaction. But behind each experience, with each new delight, there was a growing sense of a very different need. It became very important to her that she feel that intense relief and satisfaction and thankfulness from deep inside the Force... and as her sureness and experience grew, so grew that need to always, every time, return something special to whatever mysterious thing her Force might be, that entity or power which was giving her such raptures.

Laura's favorite nights were two: the best was the very first time she had found herself up on her hands and knees, arms deep into the headboard, and feeling the deep strokings of two Forces, two very different Forces, within her at the same time, one full-depth in her pussy and the other even deeper in her bottom.

That time, the sensations were so strong that she'd bitten into the pillow to keep silent... especially as what seemed to be four hands caressed her simultaneously with all the wet and gooey slidings into her body... and even then she had managed to concentrate on giving pleasure, on making both Forces (or perhaps it was two aspects of just one Force?) respond and feel good.

Receiving two entirely different styles of pleasuring at once, it was difficult to manage to suit the two aspects' very different needs - but by concentrating intensely she managed the task. As the two faded away afterwards and she lay there with both pussy and butt swarming with aftershocks, headed for her usual deep sleep, she felt very, very good about it. Reciprocity was, she decided, very nice indeed.