The Twins
Text by
Susan Strict.
Artwork by Rodzo.
He had no idea how it happened.
One minute he was sitting on the sofa sipping brandy and chatting to the twins seated on either side of him, and the next minute he found himself with most of his clothes missing, bent backwards over a stool with his wrists cuffed to his ankles.
"What’s going on?" he asked groggily, wondering whether he had somehow drunk too much brandy and slipped into some sort of horrible nightmare or hallucination.
He heard the happy giggles of the twins, but they said nothing. There was a noise, a sort of swishing, followed by a sharp crack. He had no idea what it was.
"WHAT’S GOING ON?" he demanded more loudly.
"Hush," said Tanya.
He looked up and saw her standing over him, her short pink dress raised as she turned round to face away from him. Suddenly he felt as though he was flying upwards towards her, about to crash into that soft, furry patch between her legs. He hit with an slap and an impact that drove from him completely what little reasoning he had left. In his befuddled state it was several seconds before he realised she had sat herself down on him, and the heavy pressure on and around his head was entirely from her naked body under her dress and from her thighs which she had brought together either side of his face.
"Why... " his muffled voice started underneath her, but never finished. What was it he was trying to ask? He could not remember.
"Lick me," she commanded.
"Why... " he did not understand.
"Natalie, would you mind...?"
"My pleasure." Natalie’s clear voice seemed to echo around inside his head, ringing and reverberating, slapping against the inside of his skull from one side to the other before splitting into a million separate pieces which fell tinkling through his brain cells.
He heard the noise again, the soft swishing followed by the sharp crack. Again came the swishing, this time followed by a slap of leather against skin. The pain was across his chest, sharp and stinging.
Again and again the whip struck him. Finally he got the message, and licked frantically. He heard her sighs of satisfaction, and felt the tiny movements of her muscles as the ripples of pleasure went through her.
Her movements increased. She raised herself a little for just a moment, and from underneath her he could see Natalie standing near him wearing nothing but her minuscule white panties and her long white boots. The long whip in her hand played over his chest and stomach, not striking him now, but rather stroking and caressing his body sensually as she twisted and flipped the handle of it in her expert hands.
"A little harder please, Natalie. He’s slowing down a bit." Tanya wriggled on top of him, trying to force herself down onto him, or to force his tongue further into her.
The whip swished and cracked repeatedly, its leather tail snapping across his flesh and leaving bright red marks which rose rapidly into long, stinging welts. He squirmed as the whip continued its abuse of his body, trying to give all his attention to Tanya in the hope she would tell Natalie to stop or, at least, to slow and ease her whipping.
"That’s better." Tanya’s words came in a moan of ecstasy, closely followed by a convulsive shudder in which she slid forward, completely covering his face and blocking his breathing for what seemed to him like hours.
Finally she raised herself. "Give me the whip, Natalie," she said. "Your turn."
Natalie threw the whip to Tanya, and skipped over to where she now stood with a very girlish grin on her face. The two of them looked down at him, smiling.
"Aren’t you lucky?" Natalie said to him brightly, cupping her hands underneath her naked breasts. "Not many men get to see me like this."
"And," she went on, "Now I’ve got to take off my knickers too." She slid them down swiftly and stepped out of them.
"It’s a shame," said Tanya, "That none of this is real."
As she said it, he noticed that Tanya too was now completely naked, and instead of holding the long whip in her hand she now held a short riding crop. What did she mean, ‘none of this is real’?
Natalie settled herself onto his face. He felt Tanya rip off his pants and bring the riding crop stingingly down onto his hardness. He yelped, and Natalie wriggled.
"Yes, Tanya," said Natalie, "Yes, yes! Make him do that. I love it. I love it."
"It’s not real, Natalie," said Tanya. "You know it’s not. It’s only his imagination, running wild with what we put in his drink."
"I know," agreed Natalie, "But don’t you see? If it were real, we’d stop soon. We would have enough of it after half an hour or so. But it’s not. It’s like a dream, and we can go on doing it, getting our pleasure, hurting him, forever . It doesn’t need to stop. You can dream a hundred years in just a few seconds of the real world, you know, and I’m going to enjoy every moment of it."
The beating of Tanya’s riding crop on him increased its force and its frequency. Natalie sighed happily, and started to grind herself down onto his face.
"Forever," she murmured contentedly to herself. "We never need to stop.... "