Chapter One

 

"Is your name Ian?"

A petite oriental looking girl with a cute Californian accent is peering intently at a dishevelled heap in the middle of the bed.

Ian surfaces from within the pile of linen sufficiently to nod in response. He frowns. The bedroom is large, white and airy, and clearly not his. The beautiful girl is naked, except for high heeled ankle boots and a steel helmet, of the type usually worn by infantry soldiers. She turns, bending down to rummage in a large bag on the floor. A length of clear plastic tubing dangles down from between the cheeks of her bottom, almost brushing the carpet.

Ian waits, hoping all of this will start to make sense soon.

"Laura said to give you this," the girl says quietly.

In a flash she pulls a heavy looking leather paddle from the bag and leaps on Ian's sprawled carcass, casting away the bedding and flipping him over onto his front. One boot catches him a glancing blow on the forehead and her knee lands full weight on his thigh. Howling, he tries to buck her off, but despite her slight frame the young woman is alarmingly strong and easily pins him in place.

The paddle is dotted with metal studs and when the first blow lands on Ian's buttocks, it is like being side swiped by a shovel. This is not a spanking for sexual gratification, this is punishment.

Ian writhes and squirms, burying his head in the pillow to muffle his cries and hide his tears. His tormentor has clearly been keeping count, because after what feels like fifty blows, but is probably only two dozen, she stops abruptly and relaxes her hold. Ian flops over onto his back breathing heavily, relieved to have been released.

In a nimble move, the girl pivots and places one knee on either side of Ian's head, her pussy directly over his mouth. She looks down at him impassively as the plastic tube slithers across his chest.

Ian automatically begins to lick and suck. He is startled at the sweet taste and the softness of her flesh, and he redoubles his efforts. He wants to gorge himself on her perfect cunt. His cock rises in appreciation.

The girl rides his face, pulling at the nipples of her tiny tits and reaching back to fuck herself with the plastic tube. Before long she builds to a series of small sighs that denote a neat and tidy orgasm.

With a quick smile, she hops off the bed and packs away the paddle.

"Erm. Who are you?" Ian asks tentatively.

"My name is Wu Lin. Your wife is in the master bedroom upstairs and the kitchen is one floor down." She bows to signify that this is all the information she believes he needs.

"And um..." Ian hesitates, pointing to her bottom. "What's the deal there?"

Wu Lin glances around. She appears either to have forgotten about her anal tentacle or regards its purpose as so obvious that the question surprises her. "Oh!" she says, realising Ian requires an explanation. She reaches for his erection and slips the free end of the tube over the head. She frowns. "Usually it's a much tighter fit than that."

She starts to jerk him off with fast efficient strokes. Ian is taken aback and pleased in equal measure. Quickly, she charms a salty spoonful from his straining member, catching it deftly in the pipe. Standing, she attaches the top of the tube to a clip mounted on the side of her helmet.

Ian watches his small contribution sliding slowly down towards her waiting rectum.

"So that's...for cum?" Ian is too stunned to form a fully coherent question.

Wu Lin winks. "Or whatever." She smiles and blowing him a kiss, skips to the door.

Ian sinks back into the bed. His mind whirls. After a minute or two, he decides to put all thoughts of Wu Lin to one side, since they were making his imagination go to places he wanted to avoid for now. His consciousness gropes for something he senses he is missing though.

"Oh God!" he squeals, leaping out of bed. "Laura!"

Wu Lin had told him where his wife was and how to find the kitchen. Laura would be expecting tea, and the spanking he's already had, would be nothing compared to the punishments his beloved might dream up if he didn't get a move on.

 

***

 

The kettle, milk and cups are fairly easy, but it takes Ian a long time to find tea. He presses a baking sheet into service as a tray, and is eventually able to carry two steaming mugs to the top floor.

He pushes open the door with his shoulder and is hit by a wall of twanging sitar music and incense. In the gloom of the curtained room he can see a tall, muscular man sitting in bed with his knees drawn up. The sheet is tented around his legs and he appears to be talking to his navel.

With a sharp movement the man raises his head to look at Ian with highly focused eyes. "Is that my robe?" he asks. His accent is also West Coast, just like Wu Lin's.

Ian stands nonplussed. He glances down at the dressing gown he had found in the bedroom where he had woken. "I..." he begins.

The man cuts across his reply. "Are you Brian? Have you brought that for Laura?" He is now pointing at the tray.

"I thought she'd like tea. I'm Ian," he says, replying in reverse order, the way people do in the face of multiple questions. "I found the robe downstairs. Is she here?"

"Take it off."

"I'm sorry?" Ian frowns.

"Take off my robe and set it down on the bed or I'm gonna tear it off and I'm gonna rip your little British dick off along with it!" the man growls.

Ian's eyes dart nervously around the room. He would stand no chance against the bigger man in a fight and he has no idea where to run to, even if he managed to get out of the house in one piece. He would be in an unfamiliar neighbourhood in just a dressing gown. He swallows hard, places the tray on the floor and slips off the robe.

"Good," says the man in the bed. His demeanour has instantly switched from menacing to mellow. "You want to know where Laura is?"

"Yes," Ian replies, holding his hands in front of his timorous tackle. "Um yes please. Sir."

In response the man pulls back the sheet to reveal Ian's wife kneeling between his thighs, with the man's cock lodged in her throat. Her hands are braced under his legs to hold herself in position.

With a face splitting grin the man says, "I think we can see what your wife likes for breakfast, and it's not tea. Am I right, you greedy little cum whore?" He leans forward and lands two heavy slaps, one on each cheek of Laura's ass.

She gurgles happily in response, but immediately whimpers with disappointment as the man grabs her shoulders and levers his cock from her gullet. In a single fluid move he swings his legs off the bed and stands up. He lifts Laura as if she were weightless and impales her pussy with his monstrous cock. As he slides his hands down her back to cradle her ass, she instinctively wraps her legs around his hips.

Ian backs away as the man carrying Laura on his cock, casually pushes past him to the end of the bed where he retrieves the robe Ian had placed there. Laura's eyes light up at the sight of her naked husband, but she is too breathless to speak.

The man walks to a wardrobe across the room and dexterously fishes out a hanger to stow the gown, all the time lifting and lowering Laura on his iron hard erection. He turns back to the bed and Ian can see he is now holding her in one hand and sliding two fingers of the other hand into her puckered rectum.

Laura tenses into a gasping orgasm that continues as he lays her on the bed and pounds her in earnest.

When she has come again, the man withdraws and steps back, his massive member glistening.

Glassy-eyed, Laura looks up at Ian. "Have you ever seen such a beautiful cock?" she pants. She spreads her pussy with both hands, easily sliding three fingers from each, deep inside with room to spare. "Look what it's done to your wife's sweet little cunt! I bet your little dicklette would hardly touch the sides."

The two lovers laugh at Ian's look of consternation and the man moves forward flipping Laura over.

"God! So big," she murmurs as he eases himself slowly back inside her. "So full."

He begins to thrust powerfully. His hips slap into Laura's butt cheeks, rippling the flesh and driving a deep moan from her lips. Soon she is making nothing more than animal grunting sounds, which build to a crescendo until she explodes, coming and weeping and sobbing.

"OK fellah. Your turn," says the man.

A jolt of shock and adrenaline rush through Ian's system. He takes and deep breath, swallows hard and is about to lie down on the bed, when he realises the man was actually indicating that Ian should take his place, not Laura's. It feels odd for Ian to be ordered to fuck his own wife by this stranger, but at least he isn't going to get buggered.

A new problem then arose. Or rather it didn't. Despite the arousing nature of the performance Ian had just witnessed, he knows there will be no standing ovation from him so soon after Wu Lin's siphoning. "Um. I don't think I can. There was this oriental girl you see..." he trails off weakly, parting his hands to reveal his flaccid organ.

Laura's lover grins. "Oh yeah. That's my half-sister. I guess we're even then!" He climbs back onto the bed. Addressing Laura he adds, "Her name is Wu Lin. She has...issues. I think you'll like her!" Turning back to Ian he says, "How about you get us some coffee while your wife finishes up here." He presents his still hard cock to Laura's mouth. She laps at the base working her way around and then up, with short hungry strokes, diligently cleaning her juices from his throbbing member. Ian is mesmerized.

"Hey" says the man sharply, clicking his fingers at Ian. "Brian! Coffee." He points to the door.

Ian didn't bother to correct him this time. He scurried away naked and dazed.