The Price of Temptations: Bound

I don't know how long I was there. I slept most of the time, whenever I awoke I was consumed by anger at myself for my foolish actions, and despair at what felt like betrayal from Morgan. I would spend hours look at the room, memorizing it. I had nothing else to do, sleep and daydream, sleep and stare, sleep and sit. After the first time I woke crying I decided against any more tears. It made me even more thirsty afterwards. I was hungry, yes, painfully so, but I was so thirsty. My tongue felt swollen and my entire mouth dry.
Some times I would despise Morgan, first for his chaining me, but more for him leaving me unsatisfied. Even my growing thirst and odd dreams only made me resentful. No, I was angry for him leaving.
I was sleeping I think, or dozing when they came in. I woke to the feel of handcuffs around my wrists again and a blindfold. The collar was slipped off my neck and I was lead to a corner. The corner with the chair. The simple looking stool-like whicker chair. They sat me down on it and began tying me to it. Ropes around my ankles, binding them to the back legs of the chair, ropes around my calves, securing them as well. My handcuffs were undone and my wrists were tied to the back rest. My ribcage, neck, stomach, all was secured until I could barely move.
Someone stroked my hair, pausing before they began brushing it. The feel of such gentle treatment sent me into tears. I was tired, so tired. A wearied exhaustion that seemed like it would never end. And here was someone brushing my hair. The simple kindness of it was what set me off. But they continued brushing, and I continued crying. When they hand finished I felt the gentle tug as the ran their hands through my hair, petting me. Their hands lingered over the back of my neck, then began massaging me. Gentle, so horribly gentle at first. But it stopped me crying. As my muscles relaxed so did my mind, the knots and horror seemed to fall away. Up and down my bare back, fingers dancing around my spine, then on my shoulders and arms, rubbing the shock of the past few days out of my body. Fingers tickled my neck, gliding down toward my breasts. They cupped them, squeezing them and jiggling them in their palms. A mouth closed around my nipple, sucking on it, hardening it.
I could feel myself getting wet, my nipples were still sore from the clamps and the softr biting created a swift mixture of pain and pleasure. I smiled, relaxing into my bonds. At least I would enjoy this, even if I was chained up again, at least I could enjoy this moment of pleasure. They nipped and sucked and teased at both my breasts until I felt the chair getting wet with me. I was almost dripping. That mouth, it was so good, the tongue rolling my tits over the teeth. I wanted more though, I wanted to be fucked. I was sick of being teased to the point of madness then left to whimper and whine in the dark alone.

The mouth paused in its assault, I could feel the heat of their breath, their top row of teeth still lingering against my skin. They began kissing me, my breasts, my arms, my stomach and neck. A finger, or I think it was a finger, began rubbing against my clit in quick, small circles. The sudden pressure and movement sent a wave of lust through me. I wanted them, Morgan I assumed. But christ, even if it wasn't him, I wanted them. I didn't care who they were, if they would just fuck me. They went faster with their finger, their lips now barely brushing my skin as they kissed their way around and around on my body. The kisses stopped, but I was too caught up to care. They were making me even wetter, I moaned softly, despite my fear of being punished for it. And I thought I had been, the finger, or whatever it was, stopped rubbing. I waited, waiting for some form of pain, or even a harsh word from them. But nothing came. I waited, listening. I didn't hear a thing, not breathing, not movement.
Nothing.
I was begining to feel the familiar loneliness return when another sudden pressure on my clit caught my breath in my throat. It was their tongue, I could feel it, the tip of it wet and warm on my bud. Their breath was sharp, silent, and short. The tongue moved, darting around my clit, running up and down between my lips, sliding over my slit without so much as pressure. It was amazing, a slow and long form of absolute torture. Then back to the clit again. A small contained swirling, over the skin and under it, flicking and nipping. It wasn't Morgan, they were better than Morgan. They were so good! Oh god! Each movement made me wetter, sending courses of ecstacy through my body. Finger twisted and yanked at my nipple, adding a sharp and sweet pain to it all. I didn't feel it coming, it was so sudden, it was so good...I came. I felt it on my thighs, the chair, and I guessed there was a fair amount on my companions face as well. They didn't stop though, the tongue continued it's maddening dance on my clitoris, it was amazing, but I wanted them inside. I wanted whoever this was to fuck me and do it now. I began begging for it, crying and rocking in the chair.
A finger was pressed against my slit, wondering around over and around it, slippery with my juices. The hand on my nipple left, gently opening my mouth. The wet finger slid into my mouth, salty and wetter than I had thought. I sucked the juices off it, wanting to please them. Wanting them to please me, wanting them. I think it satisfied them, a few moments later the finger was at my slit again, pressing against it softly, entering just a bit and pulling away. The tongue continued it play, I was rocking in the chair, crying for them when they shoved it into me. I was tight, it had been so long, the finger was enough. Or at least it was enough when combined with the masterful torture that was being done to my now swollen clit. I came again, less this time I think. I heared the juices dripping through the whicker onto the stone floor below.
The door slid open, they were leaving, though I didn't hear their foot steps. I relaxed into my bonds, counting on them and the chair to hold me up.
If I could have jumped I would have, things as they were however I almost tipped the chair over. A mouth closed on my nipple, biting hard. I realized they must have used the door to confuse me, I relaxed, glad I was going to recieve more.
Then I almost fell again. The tongue was back at the clit. And the mouth was still biting and sucking at my sore nipple.
I realized with a rush of pleasure and lust that almost made me squeal that there was now another person.
The two began working, the original person I think, was at my clit. The new person sucked, bit, and licked at first one breast then the other. Their hand reached up to grasp my hair, yanking it in perfect time to the sucking. Both the people worked in perfect harmony, mouth and tongue working at the same rythm, sending me further into my high.
The finger again lingered over my slip, pressing at it softly. Then it entered. Two this time, I realized, as I felt it stretch me ever, ever so slightly. Another hand began pinching my ass, small, sharp pinches. The kind that young girls seem to learn without ever being taught.
The pain, the flood of pain mingled and mixed with the pleasure. The two complimented each other, I realized that one would never again feel right without the other.
The fingers pounded in and out of me, my head pulled back by my hair. I screamed, orgasming one last time. It shook my body, moans issueing out of my throat. They continued until my body had relaxed, my muscles limp and weak suddenly.

I felt the hand holding my hair let go. The blindfold was taken from my eyes. I could only stare. My eyes had landed directly on the person between my thighs. Directly on their eyes. The iris's were almost black, but flecks of lighter colors floated on the dark surface. She was beautiful, easily the most amazing looking woman I had ever seen. She was asia, Japanese I guessed. She was petite, a body like most middle school girls have. Her face was sharp, yet kind, with a small and secretive mouth. Her cheeks and the area around her mouth shined from my juice, there was an area of about an inch around her lips were you could see she had licked it away. Indeed, I would have msitaken her for a teenage girl if not for her breasts. They weren't large, B cups, maybe C if you wanted to really push it. But they were obviously fully developed.
She was the youngest and most stunning adult I had ever seen. I found myself being attracted to her, then immediatly ashamed. I had never been attracted to any woman, not even slightly before. It wasn't that I didn't like bisexuals, it was just that I had never wanted to explore that path. Until now. She was so perfect, and so, so good with her tongue.

The other person, another woman, produced an equal reaction to me. She was tall, with long and perfect legs. Pale, with long red hair. Her face was rounder than the other girl, but she looked meaner. Fiercer. I blushed as I remembered how she had been rougher with my nipples, pulling my hair and pinching me.

The asian wore a white wife beater with torn jeans, the red head wore a simple pair of pajama bottoms with a T-shirt. Even in their shabby, and rather dissapointing clothing I found myself wanting them.
They began working, again in perfect harmony, to untie my bonds. Despite my exhaustion, despite my overwhelming lust to have them both, I ran the moment the last rope was loose. I took only a few steps toward the door when I felt a searing pain across my back, I stumbled and fell. The red head was on me in an instant, pinning me. The asian darted to stand in front of the door, a large leather whip in her hand.

"Stop being stupid!" The red head growled, letting me up.
"The more idiot things like that, the more scars you'll have when you leave this room."
She was right, I could feel a trail of blood winding its way down my back from where the whip had caught me. She pushed me toward a wall, putting the chair next to it.
She told me to stand on the chair, I didn't argue. I just did as she said. She chained my hands to the wall, then yanked the chair from under me.
I yelped, falling heavily, suspended against the wall by the chains at my wrists. She waited until I had stopped struggling, forcing my legs open and chaining them as well. She took a finger, sliding it up the inside of my thigh, gathering my juices on her fingertip and licking it off, twisting her tongue around her finger as she did so.
"The Master will be here shortly. Word of advise, don't make noise. Don't scream from pain, ever. Scream only from pleasure."
With that ending statement both she and asia left, the asian hanging the whip on a hook next to the door. Leaving me to wonder at what to do when 'The Master' (as I assumed they were calling Morgan) arrived.