House of Feathers Ch. 18: Visitors

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This is a follow-on story from earlier ones, particularly Chapter 17, Passing Encounter, but it can certainly be read as a stand-alone work. Enjoy!


After our little adventure on the point, we felt certain we’d have company soon enough. Fun will always find itself and our two-way show in the afternoon had been as delightful a display of mutual exhibitionism as ever seen. Sex on the beach playing to sex on a passing boat — that sea-going threesome couldn’t fail to be tempted to drop in, taking their invitation from our behaviour.

Our local maintenance couple had been by two days before and there was little to clean, but he busied himself straightening things up while I worked on poisson cru.

“Hon,” I asked over my shoulder, “would you please bring me a couple of fresh coconuts?” He nodded and went outside. I watched his slim, bare body move in and out of patches of sun under the trees as he searched.

Finding two, he brought them to a husking stick he’d stuck in the ground outside our kitchen. Facing away from the window, he began to remove the fibrous outer layer. His back muscles and buttocks rippled in the sun and I felt my nipples harden a little at the sight. Good male buns are so hard to find.

He brought the opened coconuts inside and onto the counter. I felt his fingers trail down my back and over my bum before he pulled me into a firm hug, his arms around my waist.

“Is the gate open?” I asked, leaning into him.

“The padlock is off,” he said, “I can open it from here.”

“Assuming they show,” I said.

“If not,” he replied, “we’ll have leftovers tomorrow.”

Grrr. My poisson cru as leftovers?

I was about to rip his head off (in a loving, lady-like fashion, of course) when I heard a car pull up at the gate. Looking at the monitor, I saw three figures appear from the island’s lone taxi. My love tossed me a sarong and wrapped another one around his waist. I wrapped mine around my own waist, leaving my boobs bare – enough of a compromise.

A push of a button opened half of the gate and I could see him appear in the monitor and greet the trio. The taxi departed.

I headed out onto the veranda to greet our guests. The taller couple were dressed in unpressed khaki shorts and shirts. The third, shorter figure, was dressed head to foot in a bright red hooded cloak down to her ankles. Its cowl covered her head and face.

The tall brunette woman kissed me. “I’m Max,” she said. Slender but well-curved, with curly shoulder-length hair, she was in her mid-30s and looked much younger.

The man smiled. “I’m Mark.” I kissed him in welcome, too. In his 40s, he had shaved his head, clearly to cover both greying and balding. Nevertheless, he was in very good shape – a fine, muscular bull of a man. I noticed him glancing at my boobs. Well, what kind of man doesn’t?

Neither of the pair introduced the smaller, hooded figure, so I took it on myself to ask. “And this is?”

“Fleur,” Max announced. She reached for a clasp on the front of the small figure’s cloak. The fine fabric dropped smoothly away, gathering in a circle around her feet. The girl was totally nude, her pubis shaved. She looked very young — no more than 16 or 17. Long red hair dropped simply down her back. Her hourglass figure was perfect – full breasts and hips, a tiny waist. Her neck was fitted with a broad chrome collar with a finger-size ring on the front. Her wrists were clipped behind her back by two matching bracelets and a light silver chain hung in an arc between delicate clips on her prominent nipples. Slender ankles hid beneath more chrome. A small coiled dragon was tattooed on her upper left thigh. Her makeup was perfect.

She was beyond beautiful.

The young girl was silent; her eyes were looking down. I lifted her chin with my hand and gave her her own kiss of welcome. Her eyes were an amazing deep green.

I took Max by the hand and led them through the villa out to the veranda on the other side, overlooking the late afternoon ocean. I heard my man say, “Please be comfortable.” When I turned around, both men were shedding their clothes, so I thumbed my sarong off and flicked it aside with one foot. Max shed her clothes equally casually.

Mark was in even better shape than I had thought and Max’s figure was delicious. A small gold key hung by a thin chain between firm breasts; a gold chain anklet completed her outfit. Mark’s only adornment was a large gold ring on his right hand. My eyebrows went up as I noted its triskelion design.

The four of us found chairs and Fleur knelt silently by Max’s feet. The older woman stroked her hair.

“She has such flawless skin, don’t you think?” she asked. It was like she was talking about an inanimate object. The young woman remained silent.

Mark surprised us by moving next to her, kneeling beside her and kissing her softly while fondling one breast. It was a loving gesture.

“This must seem a bit odd.” he said. “Fleur is actually casino oyna the owner and captain of the Mary Jane, our boat.”

Max reached down to fondle the other breast, but kept her eyes on mine. The chain swung back and forth. “Mark was a partner and good friend of Fleur’s father,” she explained. “Her father introduced her to sailing and willed her the Mary Jane. After he died, she needed company and invited us to join her on an around-the-world sail.”

“But we learned a lesson in New Zealand, didn’t we, precious?” Mark smiled as he switched breasts.

The girl nodded, silently.

“And what did we learn?”

“Never draw to an inside straight, sir.”

Mark beamed. “That’s so right, dear. And you have another two days to reflect on that, don’t you?”

The girl nodded silently, then said softly, “If you please, sir, that’s one more day. Thirty-one hours, ending at midnight tomorrow.”

Mark roared with laughter. “So true!” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. He looked at the chain, tugged it gently. “Probably time this came off, dear.”

“Yes, please, sir.”

The girl hissed as blood returned to her nipples. Mark massaged her breasts with his palms and the girl’s eyes closed, a small smile on her mouth.

My man opened a bottle of sparkling wine and poured four glasses. He raised another empty glass, looked at Max and nodded at Fleur in question.

“Oh, certainly,” she answered. “This is a game, nothing harsh, and she can quit any time. But she does make an excellent odalisque.” She unclipped the girl’s bracelets.

The girl accepted the proffered wine and took a small sip.

“We play cards a lot at sea,” Max said, smiling, “We generally play for routine housekeeping duties like dishwashing, cleaning and so forth. But Fleur kept raising and, well, here we are. She’s not the first, though; Mark was the one wearing cuffs across the Indian Ocean. I’ve been lucky so far; I keep my bets low.”

“Don’t underestimate her, “Mark said, smiling at the girl, still stroking a plump breast. “Fleur’s just 22, but she’s Phi Beta Kappa and has an MBA already. She’s wiggy-bright, just poker-innocent.”

I glanced at Fleur. “How far does the bet go?”

“No serious pain or scars, no gross humiliation. Outside of that, the stakes were pretty open. Right now, Fleur is being exhibited and used for our pleasure, but is denied orgasm.”

“But this afternoon, on the boat, you…”

“Oh, yes,” Max laughed. “I came, Mark came, but Fleur? No. Mark stopped short of pleasing her.”

“Hmmm.” I said. “Perhaps I might beg a hostess favour and ask for some leniency there?”

“I don’t know,” Mark replied, grinning. “I’m still aching from when it was my turn.”

My man grinned back. “Oh, I think you’ll see we can make it worth your while as well as hers.”

For the first time, the young woman looked up from the floor, first at one man, then at the other.

“Meanwhile,” I added, “Our house is yours. We can offer you real beds tonight and I have dinner ready for whenever. What would you like? Say you’ll stay.”

“Please,” my lover added. I smiled to myself; I had noticed him eyeing both Fleur and Max’s figures. The Coolidge Effect still reigns…

I decided to press things. I took the hands of both women and lifted them to their feet. “While you’re thinking about that, I bet you’d like to freshen up before dinner. Water’s always scarce on board. Let me show you the shower.” I winked at my man.

I led the two upstairs to our veranda shower. Comprised of a frame of shiny, wrist-thick copper pipes open to an ocean view, it was big enough to host a dance party. I could see my guests’ looks of surprise.

“Come on,” I said. “I could do with one myself. It’s solar, so don’t worry about water.” I turned warm water to flow gently across the area and waded in myself. “Fleur, please join me.”

The girl looked at the taller woman.

“Give her a break, Max,” I said. “My house, my rules. We’ll have lots of fun with her later,” (my nipples hardened at the thought), “but let’s have some girly time.”

She nodded. She and Fleur joined me in the shower and we were soon engaged in that most Sapphic of activities, joint bathing. Six butt cheeks, six boobs, six hands – what wasn’t to like? Somehow we wound up with Max standing in the middle with Fleur and I on either side doing a soapy full body rub on her like cats. I was truly enjoying myself; nothing beats man-tackle in the long run, but a faceful of somebody else’s tits is fun, too.

The men joined us after a minute. At the sight of the three of us, both stopped in their tracks and, almost as if rehearsed, began to get hard. Mark was impressively equipped. Size isn’t everything, but it’s a start – in Mark’s case, a very good start.

Before they got into the shower, I asked my man to help me move a table downstairs. When we returned to the shower, the three had started without us. Max and Fleur were kneeling in the ‘rain’, sharing Mark’s jutting canlı casino manhood. Max had him deep in her mouth and was pumping his shaft with her hand while Fleur was fondling and licking his scrotum, sucking his heavy balls one by one into her mouth. The water flowing over their bodies made them look like a high-end fountain sculpture.

As we watched, Mark came, heavily. Ropes of cum spurted over both women, to be instantly washed away.

Fleur turned on her knees as Max stood up. Without pausing, the girl buried her face in the brunette’s groin, her cuffed hands clutching the older woman’s shapely ass. For her part, Max’s hands had found the fabric support loops above the shower heads and she stood loosely, almost hanging, under the wave of pleasure.

I noticed Fleur’s one hand moving furtively to her own pussy. I stepped over to her, pulled it away and wagged my finger at her – bad girl! If I expected them to bend their rules for me, I had the obligation to follow their wishes on the rest. Moving Fleur’s hand to my own pussy, I looked down at her until she started fingering me instead.

I bent forward and took one of Max’s nipples in my mouth, sucking and licking. Mark joined me on the other boob. Max gave a cry and came like a skyrocket, twitching from head to foot. I felt my lover’s manhood slide into me past Fleur’s flickering fingers and came myself almost immediately. He pulled out without reaching orgasm, knowing more was to come.

Mark and I continued to caress Max until she let go of the loops. With the shower turned off, I passed out towels, then pointed at Fleur in reproach. “I thought you were being denied,” I said. She looked down, shamefaced.

I looked at Mark and Max. “May I?” They nodded, waiting to see how we would handle it.

Lengths of paracord were tucked up here and there in the villa beams, remnants of previous Games. In a trice, the young woman’s wrists were suspended from the rafters by her bracelets. My man reappeared with a spreader bar and a collection of feathers. It was to be a long evening for Fleur.

I fetched a hair dryer and the four of us took turns drying each other off with towels. When we were done, I went to make tea. When I returned, my lover was drying his hair and beard. Max’s dark hair was dry and she was using an egret feather to stroke the inside of the girl’s thighs and pussy. Mark was stroking the girl’s nipples with two stiffer feathers. Fleur’s eyes were tightly closed and she was breathing rapidly.

I took her head in both hands and kissed her, kissed her as only a woman can. She leaned into me, hungry and desperate, her tongue coiling against mine. We don’t tolerate clocks, but by the sun it looked like she’d been tormented for at least 20 minutes.

I looked at the others. “Enough, please. I have dinner almost ready and I think Fleur has learned another lesson.”

Turning to my lover, “We’ll eat on the downstairs veranda. Would you please bring the chair from my office?”

His eyes twinkled. He knew where this was going.

I released the girl and helped her dry her hair. I hugged her tight before we headed downstairs. “Thank you for being our guest, hon.” I got a strong hug back and, taking her hand in mine, we headed downstairs.

The table had already been set when I arrived with Fleur in tow. Four normal chairs on one side faced the ocean and one rather special chair opposite faced inwards. Fleur’s eyes opened wide when she saw it.

What had begun life as a study if fairly normal office chair had been extensively modified. Bits of gear were fastened on here and there, but the most obvious addition was the head of a red rabbit vibrator just protruding through an oblong hole in the seat. A second, much smaller, hard plastic vibrator could barely be seen behind it.

I hugged her tightly. “He’s an inventor, dear. It was a present for me and I have really enjoyed it. I think you’re going to be amazed.” He stepped up and put some lube on the vibrator heads and then, in a naked parody of a headwaiter seating guests, waved her courteously to sit down.

After a moment’s pause, she sat. I quickly fastened the built-in straps to hold her legs to the chair while he fastened the seatbelt around her waist. Even though her arms were free, she was going nowhere relative to the chair.

The four of us brought the meal from the kitchen and seated ourselves opposite her.

“Fleur will join us for dinner,” I stated, “After dinner, she’ll be the entertainment.” I looked at Mark and Max for approval. They nodded, eyebrows raised.

My man produced his iPad as the wine was being passed. “The chair is computer controlled and is programmed to react to the individual’s physical and mental state. It can set to maximize or delay orgasms, prolong them, et cetera.”

Mark and Max were fascinated at the device and grinned at Fleur’s equally obvious, if not quite parallel, curiosity.

“For the next little while,” he said, “it will just be set on Tingle, providing kaçak casino low stimulation, much like a yoni massage. It will keep her stimulated, but not frustrated.”

“I often enjoy it while working in my office,” I said. “It’s both relaxing and stimulating at the same time.”

A tap on the screen and a barely-perceptible hum could be heard from under the chair. Fleur suddenly sat up very straight and then relaxed. From where we sat, we had a clear view of the head of the larger vibrator rose between her parted legs and begin moving slowly around and across her pussy lips at very low speed. My nipples tightened as I remembered the feeling. My man smiled, caressed a breast gently and them pushed her up to her place at the table. “Hands stay above the table, Fleur,” he said softly. The girl nodded. Her chromed collar shifted as she did so.

The dinner progressed as any other would, given the absence of clothes and Fleur’s constant stimulation. The young woman seemed calm, almost in a dreamy mood, but engaged freely in the conversation.

It turned out that Mark was an engineer, too, and the men were soon lost in their own special world. I made conversation with Max and Fleur. “How long have you been sailing, dear?”

It was the first time I’d seen her smile. “Oh, since just about forever. Daddy bought a Sunfish to teach me when I was little and we used to go out almost every day during the summer on the reservoir. He had a membership at the local yacht club, so I moved up as I got older. When he bought the Mary Jane, I earned my yachtmaster qualification. Sailing’s a challenge, but also so relaxing. Being behind the wheel is so empowering.”

I winced mentally at the word, but understood her feeling.

“Less thrilling to be spread-eagled naked on the rigging when one leaves harbor, though.” Max remarked dryly.

“Oh, no!” the girl replied. “That was totally hot. I never knew what it was like to have everybody able to see me like that and not being able to do anything or hide or anything.”

Max and I looked at each other. She winked.

“First time, sweetie?” I asked.

“Well, no,” she said, seriously. “My boyfriend tied me like that facing out against his dormitory window one night. But it was dark outside and I think that with the light behind me, all anybody could see was my silhouette.”

“Kinky boyfriend,” I remarked.

“No,” she replied thinly. “He was a fratboy jerk, overall. I think he got the window idea out of a magazine or something. I dropped him months ago.”

“How’s the chair?” I asked.

“Oh, really nice! It’s not frustrating. But, um, why does he need a computer to run just a vibrator?”

I leaned over and patted her hand. “Wait a bit, hon. You’ll see” I smiled at her and got another smile in return.

The main course being ended, we cleared away the dishes and I brought out a reasonably good Brie, some thins and a sweeter wine for dessert. I also pushed Fleur’s chair back away from the table, allowing a better view for the rest of us. Her tethered legs were far enough apart that the vibrator caressing her labia was easily seen.

“Need to pee, sweetie?” I asked her. She shook her head.

I looked at my man and he brought over the sensor array. An adapted skeleton bicycle helmet with electrodes inside, an elasticized sensor band around her chest below her boobs, a sensor finger clamp on one toe, electrodes stuck here and there — his usual Borg sex toy setup. Once wired, we fastened her wrists to the arms of the chair, leaving her totally immobilized. He went around behind and started plugging leads in to a steel box fitted to the back of the chair. When done, he fitted two small cameras on extensions to the arms, both aimed at Fleur.

“I’ve turned off the emergency releases,” he told me.

I put my hand under her chin and lifted her head. “What’s your safe-word, dear?”

“Um, ‘red brick’.”

“Well, Fleur,” I said, “You’re about to see why a computer is needed. I find it a lot of fun. All those sensors — oh, do any of them pinch?”

She shook her head.

“All those sensors feed to the computer,” I continued, pointing at the iPad, “which analyzes how aroused you are. Max and Mark get to control the settings.”

My man passed the iPad to Max and pointed at the screen.

“‘Tingle’ is what we’ve had her on now,” he explained. ‘Delayed’ gives an orgasm, but takes a long time, whereas ‘Quick’ is as fast as possible, but not necessarily the strongest orgasm — that’s ‘Max’.”

“What I think we should be using tonight is ‘Tease’,” I said. “Guaranteed to keep her right on the brink without cumming.”

“For how long?”

“As long as you want, but I wouldn’t make it too much to start.”

“And then?”

“Whatever you like.”

They looked at each other and started tapping the screen.

“Oops,” my man said. “Forgot again.” He plugged in two thin air hoses behind the chair and brought them around to show our guests. Each ended in a soft plastic cup about the size of an egg, fitted to rest over a nipple, with row upon row of small rubber teeth inside, massaging and churning. A soft hissing could be heard as air was sucked down the hoses.

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