The Cave Ch. 01

I lay down in front of him the way I'd seen Amy and he got to work arranging me the way he preferred, just small changes. My hands were on my stomach, but he moved them down to my sides, and then he adjusted my legs so that they were slightly bent. He flicked the smooth side of one claw under my chin to raise it slightly.

Then he just sat back on his haunches and looked me over. The fire was directly behind him, surrounding him in a warm glow that only made him seem looming and sinister. He picked up my right leg, caressing my ankle, and slathered his tongue over the entire sole of my foot, from heel to toes. I could see from the firelight how black the bottom of my foot was from walking around in the dirt but he didn't seem deterred by it in the least. Eyes closed, he licked my foot again, gradually, enjoying me. The muscles of his throat bobbed as he swallowed and his mouth lightly smacked together to analyze the taste. Then he continued, licking with purpose, the abrasive spines on his tongue scrubbing me clean. I tried not to let it tickle, but he didn't seem to mind the occasional mechanical recoil and when he slithered his tongue between my toes, they felt faintly slimy afterwards. When my foot was polished, he started the whole thing over again on my other one.

It took longer with me than it did Amy. I had several days of grime and sweat layered on my body for him to cut through and I suspected he was also spoiling himself with new smells and tastes. The first time I closed my eyes to relish the pampering, he was making his way up my inner thighs, which were more or less clean from his regular midnight visits, but he stopped instantly and drew away. When I opened my eyes, he was hovering over me with a strict look on his face. As I watched, he pointed to his eyes with two black talons and I understood my eyes should be open for him.

Returning to his task, Pratt's tongue became deliberate as he nuzzled into my crotch and there was no doubt that he meant for me to enjoy this, but with Amy glowering nearby all I did was madly flush and tense up. Pratt seemed to sense it and moved on after a few minutes.

He bathed my belly, scoured my breasts until they were positively raw and then finished up at my throat and face. He allowed me to close my eyes as he gently lapped at the corners of my eyes. I opened them when he paused. He was staring right at me, his eyes soft and expressive and I forgot to breathe for a long twenty seconds, until I began to lightly pant through my mouth. His tongue dropped slowly through his sharp teeth to taste my parted lips. I wasn't sure what I was expected to do. I never saw him do this to Amy before. I kept my eyes open on his, my hands at my sides. He licked me twice more, hitting the glassy surface of my teeth, touching my own tongue between them, and I gasped, feeling it like a current all the way to my pubic lips.

Amy sniffed resentfully and Pratt glanced up at her. I couldn't see what look she might have been giving him and I'm not sure I wanted to know. Pratt pushed back, stroked the side of my hip and I knew that meant to turn over.

I rested my cheek on my folded arms, facing away from the other woman in the room, feeling Pratt's tongue sliding down my back and legs. He saved my bum for last. Another pat on my hip signaled for me to bring in my knees a little so that my cheeks naturally spread apart to properly present my sphincter for him. While Amy could not see well from where she was sitting, I still felt the degradation of being on display. I put my forehead on my crossed arms and hid my face in the fur blankets to muffle my moans when he entered me shallowly to lick my anal walls.

My grooming was over. It wasn't shower gel and a loofah, but I was clean. My skin felt cool all over and slightly sticky as the saliva evaporated. I scuttled back to my corner. I knew what was to come next and I didn't really know my part in it, but I hoped I would at least get to watch from the bed. The fur blankets were so soft and the straw made quite a comfortable mattress, compared to the rocks and rubble I'd been sleeping on this last week. Now that I'd gotten a taste of it, I was reluctant to leave it.

Pratt lied down on his back in the center of the bed, waved Amy over with the click of his claws and she scrambled readily to his bent knees. His penis was fully erect, bowed slightly towards Amy. I could see how red and blotchy it had become and Amy wrapped both her fists around the lengthy shaft and put the head in her mouth. I was amazed with her boldness, but I felt her haughtiness, too, of all the allowances she was granted over me. Pratt glanced at me to make sure I was watching. He wanted me to see this, to see how it was done. To see how he liked it.

His nostrils were flaring, his eyes only slits as he watched Amy. He buried the black tips of his fingers in her oily hair, grunting, and I saw a flash of his white teeth as the bridge of his nose crinkled in desire. But this was not how he wanted to climax. He lifted Amy's face from his cock and made what seemed a casual gesture.

I could tell Amy knew what he wanted, but she was hesitant to perform it. Flicking her eyes at me, she made a decision and spun around, crouching on her knees. Pratt clutched his organ and aimed it more precisely and Amy peered over her shoulder at him to line herself up. He entered her this way from behind and she leaned forward on her hands to brace herself as her rump began wildly springing. Pratt's rear rose off the bed to meet her. The position didn't allow for him to fill her to the hilt, but they began bumping to a frantic rhythm.

And then his arm extended out on the bed, towards me. His eyes were half shut in pleasure, but they found mine and held my gaze for a minute, before he lazily curled his black claws into his palm. He was waving me over.

He showed his teeth again when I started crawling to him. His smiles were fierce, but I think that's what they were. Smiles. He guided me so that I was sitting on him, his thick tufts of brown chest hair brushing inside my legs. I wondered if Amy and I were meant to face each other, to witness each other's pleasure, but if Amy wasn't ready for that, then neither was I. His body jostled to her pace as she plummeting down on his groin behind me. He grabbed my hips from behind, his thumbs sliding under my thighs to ease me forward so he could reach me with his mouth.

I couldn't see his mouth under my black dune of pubic hair, but I could feel it, opening against my dark, moist area. I thought his tongue might not make another appearance after all the work it had been through tonight, but it was there, just the tip, hastily tracing my crease. His enormous hands ran up my body, his long thumbs grazing the sides of my breasts, and then pressed down on my shoulder blades, pushing me forward until I was leaning on my hands. My nether lips were pressed firmly to his face this way and it gave me a little more control of my own desire as his tongue slid around, swirling around my clitoris, prodding into my vagina and licking everything in between.

Pratt grunted after I sharply bucked. I thought I was hurting him, but I had almost forgotten there was a third party still in this, behind me, giving him pleasure, as he was giving me pleasure. I moved faster, driving myself, unable to think of any of the other participants or of their enjoyment, but then Amy's frenzied moans at my back commenced a potent chain reaction of orgasms. I felt the shudder of my own warm, wet climax, and as wanton groans tumbled irrepressibly out of my mouth, pins pressed demandingly into the flesh on my shoulders. Pratt's claws, I numbly thought, as he reached his pinnacle.

I dove slowly, languidly, into a heap of fur blankets, my left leg still draped over Pratt's quickly rising and falling chest. From my peripheral, Amy was also sinking into the opposite end of the bed, noticeably exhausted. I wanted to grab the first blanket and throw it over myself and hope to be forgotten. This was what I'd been working towards, some semblance of freedom to find a way out, but escape was about the last thing on my mind right now.

A little while later, Pratt began to move and I brought in my leg to give him room. I lifted my head an inch to watch him as he headed for the water bucket near the tunnel. His shape in the dancing firelight was tall and hard without his shoulder furs, but he ambled with a phlegmatic, post-coital swagger. Three arm lengths away, Amy was lying on her side with her back to me, facing her wall chains, flipping her long blonde hair back away from her shoulder. She was as far from me as she could possibly get and still remain on the bed.

Gathering the blankets to pillow my head, my gaze drifted down the length of her spine, which was visible but not protruding, to a black tattoo at the lower curve of her back. Something written in elegant Japanese script. She had fading tan lines from a bikini. Her buttocks were small and narrow, and I stared at the tuft of black curls in the gap between her thighs. It glistened wetly in the flare-light.

"Where did you get your tattoo done?"

At first I thought she might ignore me, pretend she was sleeping already, but then she rolled back a little and frowned at me over her shoulder. Her right breast sagged slightly into view. "You mean my tramp-stamp?"

I became flustered. "No—I never said..." It may have crossed my mind, but I would never say that out loud. I believed in a woman's right to do what she wished with her body.

She laughed harshly, and I think she enjoyed watching me squirm. "Downtown Duluth. Place on Superior Street."

"I like it." And I did. I didn't have any tattoos personally and always avoided getting one because I didn't think I could ever decide what to get.

I noticed her frowning at me, not in disapproval, but in assessment. She dropped her shoulder to the blankets and turned over to face me, tucking one arm under her head. "Thanks." She cupped her elbow and I noticed her strange ring again on her middle finger.

"What does it mean?" I asked. "Your tattoo."

Smirking, she said, "'Big fucking mistake.'"

I laughed softly. Across the room, Pratt was crouched over the bucket, filling our cup with water. I saw him look over his shoulder at us. Curiously, not angrily.

"He lets you wear jewelry?" I asked.

Only her eyes clicked up to regard me, then she gazed down at the ring, turning it absently with her thumb.

I leaned over on my elbow, hardly noticing the weight of my breasts now as they drooped sideways. "Can I see?"

She was wary at first, but then she scooted over sideways and held out her hand. I hadn't seen anything like her ring before and I gave a little gasp. It was a bird's foot, the tiny talons curled around her finger like it was sitting on a perch.

"Where did you get that?" I asked, genuinely impressed with it.

She nodded upwardly towards Pratt. Knelt down by the water, he was still gazing over his shoulder at us, so obviously eavesdropping, whether he could understand what we were saying or not.

"He gave it to you?"

"He made it," she said with a tiny nod.

I smiled and opened my mouth to ask a dozen things, but I couldn't decide what to say first. I found it so intricate and thoughtful. "That's...kind of sweet," I finally said.

"I'm sure yours is in the works," she sighed.

Mine? I thought.

But before I could ponder any further, Amy looked up as a shadow eclipsed some of the light. Behind me, Pratt stood at the edge of the bed, guarded, as if he didn't want to interrupt. He stared at us with a glimmer of delight and I got the sense he wanted Amy and me to be close. When he was sure we had finished, he kneeled down between us, handed Amy the cup of water. She sat up to drink and I propped myself up on one hip to anticipate my water share.

While she drank, Pratt moved closer to me and split my knees apart, wide so he could see me. I had to place my palms on the bed behind me to keep upright. He reached over and pinched together the folds of my nether lips.

After drinking what she needed, Amy put the cup in Pratt's large hand and he gave it to me. I noticed there was more water than the couple swallows Amy usually left for me. I shifted my weight to one hand, drank from the cup in the other, my legs still spread out wide. During this, Pratt pulled Amy into his lap. Bracing her back with one arm, he dipped his head and began to quickly lap at her right nipple, like a kitten drinking from a bowl of milk.

I sipped from the cup, wetting my dry throat. Watching them, I felt my own nipples tingling to be touched, but I waited my turn. This was my role; the observer. I was being taught, on some level, how it was done in the cave, away from any sort of civilization. I was a patient spectator, only because I didn't know any better, because I thought it was what Pratt wanted.

Finishing my water, I stretched across to the edge of the bed to place the cup on the rock floor. When I turned back, Pratt was staring up at me as his tongue was still busy on Amy's chest. For a minute, I just gazed back, but then Pratt reached down with his free hand and cupped Amy's left breast, lifting it slightly and twisting the nipple gently toward me with his thumb and index finger. Offering it.

If I had hesitated at all, the moment would surely have slipped away. I crawled over gaily on my hands and knees, my heavy breasts swinging underneath me. Aside from breastfeeding as a newborn, this was the first time my lips had ever touched a woman's nipple. I kissed it with a peck as Pratt held it for me. Amy's gasps didn't miss a beat, her eyes remained closed.

A hundred thoughts could have gone through my mind had I let them. Everyone had a threshold. And by emptying my mind I was able to raise mine considerably. I leaned in again and suckled her breast, stroking her firm nipple with the tip of my tongue. Amy began to moan softly. I found this encouraging and as Pratt's hand retreated, I groped her entire breast myself, holding it up to my mouth, hungry, as if taking sustenance. Her breast was small, but the nipple was erect, like the tip of a twisting balloon before it's molded into an animal, and I sucked it like a tiny penis. Amy's hand came up to cradle the back of my head. With a long, creaking, blissful groan, she pushed my face into her body.

I felt Pratt taking my left hand, my free hand. I didn't resist as he led me to the inside of Amy's thighs, moist with a mixture of her arousal and his semen. Her pubic hair was damp and coarse, and the shape of her sex felt much different than my own. There seemed to be less flesh and the engorged clitoris was easy to find. To oil my finger, I wiggled my finger into her warm vagina and smeared the juices, caressing that bloated kernel of cartilage at the apex.

As both Pratt and I held claim to her breasts, Amy squirmed in his lap, her needy hips pumping against my hand. Her moans got louder, deeper, and her fingers sunk affectionately into my hair. When she climaxed, her strong legs snapped shut on my hand. Looking up from her breast, I could only see the underside of her jaw. Her head was thrown back, the lean muscles bulging in her throat, her chin pointed up at the ceiling as her whole body writhed.

I was only distantly aware as Pratt lifted her from his lap and placed her gently on the fur blankets, disturbing her very little. My hand was still locked between her thighs and my finger was still softly flicking her puffy, slippery pleats, her body shuddering with aftershocks. When her hand dropped out of my hair and her legs fell open, I withdrew. She was coming down from her desire, but mine was just beginning. I didn't care who finished me, I only knew I needed to be touched.

It was Pratt who grabbed me. He had circled around behind me and I felt his large arm hook around my belly, dragging me backwards suddenly, swinging me around. I ended up sprawled on top of his chest, his erection pinned between our bellies, but not for long. Bringing Amy to orgasm together had made us equally ravenous for gratification. Elated, I understood our first penetration was not going to be slow and romantic, but hard, fast and intense. I lifted myself up, my palms placed confidently on his chest. Pratt was panting raggedly, his chin touching his chest as he looked downwards to our sexes. His hand trembled in anticipation as he seized his organ and directed it.

I never saw Amy coming.

I had been staring down at the shimmering head of Pratt's cock when I was abruptly thrown back. My landing in the fur blankets was pathetically graceless, but it was the whiplash that knocked me momentarily out of sorts.

First, I was aware of the defensive snarling. And when the stars faded from my sight, I saw Pratt hovering over Amy, flattening her down on the bed one-handedly, his fingers loosely curled so that his claws made deep indents on the flesh of her chest. His face was inches from hers. Nose wrinkled. Teeth exposed.

Amy's wide eyes began to shine and bubble with tears. For the first time that I had ever seen, Amy looked terrified and it made me feel sorry for her.

He seized her by the elbow and leaped to his feet, dragging her off the bed, onto the uneven ground. Amy screamed her sobs, struggling, resisting, kicking her feet. I discovered the spectacle hard to watch and I slapped my hand over my mouth to hold in my reaction. I watched as Pratt hauled Amy to my chains and began snapping her into place. She was bawling hysterically and her face was rosy and glossy with tears, all her arrogance stripped completely away.

"I'm sorry," she croaked at Pratt while he secured the clamps. She thrashed in her chains to get his attention, but when he didn't appear to hear or understand, she sobbed louder, "Please don't, I'm sorry!"

Instead, Pratt grabbed one of her fingers in the cuffs and I gasped, thinking he was going to break it. It looked like he was twisting it back and forth but then I realized he was wiggling off her ring.

"No!" she lamented.

But he whipped it behind him and although I didn't see it, I heard it clicking around, against the floor and walls until it settled somewhere out of sight.

Her piercing ululate was heartbreaking and I felt tears in my own eyes. I had never seen Pratt like this, seething with anger, and as he stalked towards the bed, I thought he might be coming for me. I scooted back towards the wall, but he swooped down for the cup at the edge of the blankets and went to fetch more water. His erection had begun to droop back down inside his loincloth.

Amy struggled vainly with her chains, as if this might have been her first day in the cave.

Pratt returned to the bed, carrying a cup of water. I quickly wiped the tears from my face. I could still feel the fury radiating off his body, but I could tell he was going to be gentle with me. He sat next to me and handed me the water and in order to get me to drink, he stroked my hair. His gaze lowered and lingered at my chest, his golden eyes evincing apology. I looked down at myself.

There was a long cut across my chest, below my clavicles, but above my cleavage. It was very shallow, but it was red with inflammation and some parts of it had begun to lightly bleed. Now that I noticed it, I was starting to feel the sting of it.

Amy's ring, I realized. Those sharp bird talons had scraped me just right when she shoved me. I honestly don't think she meant to cut me. But Amy was possessive of Pratt and her jealousy had consumed her for just an instant. I had already forgiven her for it.

I was still thirsty and gulped the water quickly. I left plenty for Amy. Her tears would leave her dehydrated. But when I handed the rest over to Pratt, he pushed the cup back at me and urged me to continue drinking. I looked over at Amy, sniveling and dry heaving while she stared at the dying fire. My heart expanded for her. I had never seen her so vulnerable, so wounded, so helpless. Or so beautiful.