The Quartet : Alfred's Tale

[Quinotaurus]

Teaser: The day I was supposed to marry Sophie, I woke up on a bed without sheets, my feet tied together and my hands to the bedposts. There was a blindfold on my face, rather like these masks some people wear to sleep while traveling. It worked well: I couldn't see a thing. Reflexively I pulled on the ropes around my wrists; they held.
-------------------------------------------------------------

The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
-------------------------------------------------------------


Index:

• Chapters 1 & 2
• Chapters 3 & 4
• Chapters 5 & 6
• Chapter 7

-------------------------------------------------------------

Title: The Quartet : Alfred's Tale
Author: Quinotaurus

-------------------------------------------------------------

Before marrying Sophie, Alfred must satisfy her friends. This is a repost.
-------------------------------------------------------------

The Quartet : Alfred's Tale

1.Alfred wakes up

The day I was supposed to marry Sophie, I woke up on a bed without sheets, my feet tied together and my hands to the bedposts. There was a blindfold on my face, rather like these masks some people wear to sleep while traveling. It worked well: I couldn't see a thing. Reflexively I pulled on the ropes around my wrists; they held.

Sightlessness enhanced my other senses, or maybe I just paid more attention to them; in any case, once I calmed somewhat, I could hear breaths nearby, more than one.

"Who are you?" I asked. "What do you want?"
"You'll soon find out what we want," a woman's voice said. I was sure I’d heard it before, and searched my memories for it, but it was harder now that it was silent again.
"Do you want money?" It felt strange talking to someone I could not see or remember; I did not even know where she, or they, were, so I could not move my head to face them. "You have to let me go. I'm getting married today."
"Maybe. If we approve."
"June?"

Suddenly I'd recognized the voice. June was a friend of Sophie, but not of mine. Ever since we'd started dating, she would criticize me, both to my face and behind my back. I remembered with some concern the dark look she had given me once when she'd visited us at home. She had taken off her sweater, and instinctively I'd looked at her large breasts under her T-shirt. She noticed, but did not speak up, just glared at me while I looked away. Her breasts were unbelievably large and pert for such a small, lean woman; I was sure they were enhanced.

Now I was bound at her mercy.

"What is it, June? A prank?"
"It's a test, Alfred. You must convince us to let you marry our friend."
'Us'? 'Our'? Of course, wherever June and Sophie went, there went their two friends too … They called themselves the Quartet, although only Sophie and Phryne had ever played instruments, and not in years.
"Who's 'we'?" I asked. " May? Phryne? Are you here?"

May just laughed cavernously. Phryne said "I'm here, Alfred. Anything you want to tell me?"
"Just let me go, please. Sophie will get mad."
"Why would she get mad that you're here with her friends?"

I found myself unable to give a coherent answer, and pulled fruitlessly on my restraints instead. June tapped me lightly on the chest and went on:
"As a matter of fact, we're here as Sophie's friends, to make sure you're a worthy husband for her. Frankly, I have my doubts. You're not that handsome, your career is a joke, and what's more… You're a dirty little pervert."

May laughed again, loudly, as she often would. She was a tall, blonde, brawny woman, a few inches taller than me. She played some sort of team sport in a club, I remembered, and had the muscles to show for it.

"You're a dirty little pervert who looks at other women's breasts," June continued, implacably. " But Sophie says you have some qualities to make up for all that. Among others, she said you were a great kisser. And we want to make sure of that. So you're going to give each of us a kiss, and a good one. Remember, this is your tryout for marrying Sophie. If we don't like what we get, things will get bad for you."

End of chapter 1
-------------------------------------------------------------
2.Alfred's Kisses

A kiss? I could not do it and yet could not refuse them either. What did that mean, 'things will get bad for you'? I did not have time to think. June was straddling me, I felt the weight of her hips on mine, the press of her thighs on either side of my torso.

"Don't get hard thinking of my breasts," she ordered.

Before I could answer she had bent forward and her lips were on mine, moist, soft, warm, pushy. I let her kiss me while the tip of her hair brushed on my cheeks, I remembered it was straight, dark blonde, and Sophie was always a little jealous of how it looked perfect after just a few brush strokes. She rose and unbuttoned my trousers, which made me buck underneath her. She did not go further.

"Better than that," she said instead. "Last warning."

And she bent and kissed me again. This time I opened my mouth wide, pushed so strongly our teeth touched. Her breath smelt of meat and cigarettes, and her tongue played with mine arrogantly. I tried to imagine she was Sophie, but couldn't quite do it. She was too forceful, too certain. Even after three years Sophie still paused on the cusp of every embrace, like a devout at the temple's door. I liked it; I was a little like that too.

June stepped off me without a world, leaving my trousers unbuttoned. I could feel a large presence by the side of the bed. That must have been May.

"My turn," she said. She did not straddle me, but as she bent I felt the weight of her heavy, soft breasts on my chest through my shirt. I moved a little, hurting my wrists on the rope, but then her mouth was on mine, her lips drier than June, her manner less forceful. But I remembered the threat and opened my own mouth to her, and slipped out my tongue to meet a row of irregular teeth. Her saliva was sweet and fresh, minty, she must have chewed some gum just before. I ground my lips against hers and pushed my tongue further, docilly, and she let me do all the work but she did not seem to hate it; until finally she pushed herself up and withdrew.

Phryne was a black woman, very sophisticated, she managed a medical lab. I expected her to be next, but I did not expect how she went about it. She took my chin between her fingers, authoritatively, then pecked at my face, slowly, calmly, her wide lips caressing my skin here and there and then finally my mouth. I could smell lemongrass and shea on her face. I tried to remember her features. Our mouths opened together and her tongue caressed mine, deliberately, as if tasting my mouth. I tasted her too with reluctant fascination. I was cheating on Sophie, but despite myself, and with her friend.

Then Phryne rose, and pulled down my trousers and underwear in a brief motion.

End of chapter 2

[Shocker]

Well this can only end up badly for Alfred. Even a man fully committed to one woman, will not stop to see and physically react to other women. One can get ones appetite anywhere, but you eat at home.

[Quinotaurus]

3.Alfred's Unfortunate Secret

May burst into loud laughter, and June giggled too.

"It's so small! Like a child." More giggles.

I felt mortified, knowing those women I could not see were looking at my small penis. With my hands tied and my trousers bunched around my knees, all I could do was squirm a little. The size of it had always been a painful concern for me. I remembered behind a child in the changing room, hiding from other boys' nasty taunts. I remembered the lonely nights I spent thinking nobody would ever want me. I remembered my fear when someone at work stood beside me at the urinal, the absurd fear that they would look, and talk, and everyone around would know.

"How long is it? It looks so small. Get the, uh, the things."
"Right," Phryne said.

There was a soft wheezing sound and I felt something soft, cold on my pubic area, shaving cream. Incautious hands spread it all over my pubes and scrotum. Then came the razor, one of the cheap plastic ones with a small blade that could only nick me a little. But with my sight obscured it was frightening none the less. Strange hands moved and stretched my parts here and there while I was being shaved, and I could only guess at the girls' gaze on my groin. By now, while still upset, I had grown calmer, withdrawn. Even when they cut away my nightshirt, I barely noticed.

"It's smaller than the razor handle," June observed. "Just like a child," she confirmed once my groin was smooth.
I felt something hard against my short soft shaft. It pressed against the skin of my groin and roughskinned hands pressed my penis along its side. It was a ruler.

"It's 3 centimeter long flaccid," Phryne said. "Barely an inch."

Didn't I know it.

"Let's see it hard now," June commanded. "Come on, Alfred. It can't take that much blood to inflate your little worm."
"I can't."

When she talked again her mouth was closer.
"Just think of Sophie. If that can't make you hard I guess you don't really love her."

But her words had a strange effect on me, one Sophie would hopefully forgive. It was not of her I thought but of June's breasts under that fateful T-shirt, and following that train of thought, of May's heavy bosom, and of Phryne's brown cleavage in the gala dress she had worn at some social function one boring night. In my mind I handled my tormentor's breasts with vengeful lust, and I wondered at their shape, at the color and size of their areolas, at how soft or firm they would feel under my hands.

And my penis, my small horrible penis, my secret ridicule, stiffened and rose. I felt it heave and jut out of my groin. Though I could not see it, I knew how incongruous it looked, an absurdly small pink shaft jutting straight up, smooth and narrow. It grew bigger and yet still small, and my foreskin retracted to reveal a small, pale, wet glans. Shame and arousal made my heart jump with every bit. Phryne's roughskinned hands grabbed and measured it again.

"Seven centimeters. A bit under three inches."
"Just like Sophie said."

So Sophie had talked to the Quartet? No! I could weep. She knew how sensitive I was about that. By the time we met I could not imagine any woman looking at my small organ and not laughing and rejecting me, so I had resigned myself to die a virgin. I refused her advances at work for weeks ; instead I stole glances at her perfect body, her legs below the skirt, which she always crossed when she sat at her desk, her round breasts underneath her tight shirt, every little strip of porcelain skin she showed. All the while I thought of running my hands and my mouth all over her. She did not take no for an answer, though. She insisted until we went on a couple chaste, tantalizing dates. On the third one, back at my place, I knew what she wanted but I could not give it to her. I kept drinking and talking, stalling for time. Eventually it was her who kissed me and pulled my pants down and saw my shame. I could not believe my luck when she looked up and smiled gently at me.
And then she'd gone and told the Quartet.

"Do you know what she told us?" June asked cruelly.

End of chapter 3
-------------------------------------------------------------

4.Alfred Learns More about his Situation

"What Sophie told us, in full, is that your little dick is tiny, but it's good at hitting just the right spot inside her, that you're a good kisser, and that you give great head. And we want to make sure of it all before we let her marry a three-inch loser like you."
"Now we know you're a good kisser," May said, then she smacked her lips mockingly.
"You're adequate," June continued. "So you still have two more tests to pass. Test 2: you have to hit 'just the spot' in each of us with your little pink worm. Make us come. Test 3: you have to give us great head. And it's better be great indeed."

I could not do that and I could not refuse.

"And then you'll let me go?" I pleaded, mortified.
"Then we'll pass our judgement on you."

June's hand (I was sure it was hers) grabbed my erect shaft and I felt cold, moist rubber engulf it.
"Even the small size condoms won't fit him," Phryne said.
"It's alright, he's not going to come. Or else."

At the same time I felt a momentous weight above me, soft breasts resting heavy on my chest, thick legs pressing over mine. May's hand crawled between my body and hers, grabbed my organ and, as far as I could tell, put its head inside her slit. But as soon as she moved it fell out.

"Get it in Alfred!"

I moved my pelvis but it felt impossible, especially with my eyes covered, to direct it in any way. Finally another hand pushed it in again, but it fell out immediately, swaying.

"It's not his fault, he's just too small."
"You'll have to squat on it," Phryne said.
"I don’t like that. I don't want to do all the work. Maybe we could untie him and make him take me in missionary. He'll be good if he knows what's good for him."
"I'll be good," I promised fearfully.
"Let's keep him tied up for now," June decided. "Phryne, you're next."

May rolled off the mattress and then I felt it bounce a couple times. Phryne was stepping on it with her naked feet, she stopped with them on either side of my hips. In-between them my hard penis still darted up, I could image her thin shadow falling on it, like a bird of prey's. Then she squatted, put one of her rough hands on my chest to stabilize herself, and grabbed my shaft with the other one, like a tool. She pressed it first a little, maybe to appreciate its hardness. And then she guided it in her. I could feel it bump on the rubbery flaps of her lips and then disappear into a diffuse warmth. She lowered herself some more, until her round firm buttocks were on my thighs, and the coarse hair of her mound against the itchy skin of mine.

"He's all in and I can't feel a thing!" She exclaimed. "Wait…"

She swayed hither and hither and, after bending backward a little, she stopped with a small "oh!"

Then she started moving up and down, ever so slightly, poking that one spot of her vagina with my swollen glans.

"It's small but it's hard at least," she said. And she kept poking herself with it every so often she moaned another little "oh", and to my renewed shame I felt myself getting harder for it inside my condom. "It's like a dildo," she said, " a very small one. You can touch yourself at just the right spot."
Once I tried to move my hip too, by instinct, but she stop me with a slap on my chest. "Don't move! You're in just the right spot." Except for the general warmth and the impact on my tip, I could hardly feel anything, unlike in Sophie's tight and caressing sheath. Yet I remained stiff out of fear and perverted excitement. I imagined Phryne's black body bounding atop mine, and could not help but wishing I could see it, and run untied hands on her curves.

Suddenly, after a long time, she froze in silence, her thighs clenched around mine. And then, after a brief pause, she started using me in the same way, only more furiously, hammering that damned spot with the hurried lust. Then she moved again, hammering this and that part of her sheath, twisting my shaft painfully to try and reach some improbable nook of her vagina. But in the end she came back to the one spot, and bothered it until she froze again.

"It is quite something, I must admit", she said. She stepped off me with what I think was some regret, and when my organ was out of her, I realized for the first time it was quite covered in liquid.
June wiped it off with a bit of cloth, secured the condom anew, and pressed my penis between her fingers, to satisfy herself it was still hard.

"I think you can get a little harder," she commanded, "if you make an effort. Let me motivate you."
And she grabbed my scrotum in her palm, then curled her fingers to make me feel her long nails on my freshly-shaven skin. Fear overwhelmed me, and I hurried to think of anything I could to arouse myself, her breasts under that tight shirt once, of the most fantastic porn I had watched and read, of my teenage fantasies of ravishing a dozen enthralled women, of the first schoolgirl, so cute, so inaccessible, on whom I laid eyes full of lust. My stomach heaved and my penis hardened.
Then June climbed onto me, sat on my thighs, and shoved it inside her, fast, brutally, like a tiger pounces. My shaft went in, to the little extent it could, but all around it her passage tightened at once, narrow, tight, hard, and clenched at it like a jaw. She started moving in violent lunges, raking my shaft with the ridges of her vagina, at the same time as she rasped my chest with her fingernails. There could be no doubt as to who was taking whom.

"Push it!" she ordered, and this time I started rocking my hips, shoving my shameful organ into her, despite the pain it caused me, and pleasure came through the pain, surprising me, so swift and so strange I discharged and weakened suddenly, without any warning to me or her.

When she noticed my flabbiness June slapped me angrily.
"How dare you!" she shouted. She took off and snatched the condom from my shriveled organ. I knew that after so long and intense a period of arousal the semen within would be quite abundant.
"A selfish little pervert," she said. "Oh, we're abusing you, or so you tell yourself? And yet you come almost at once, without waiting for anybody else's pleasure."
"That's not what we want for our friend," Phryne said mockingly.
"And you can expect some punishment for that."

End of chapter 4
-------------------------------------------------------------

[Quinotaurus]

5.Alfred's in trouble

Again I could feel June's irate presence above me, her small feet on either side of my head. And then she squatted and her black stiff pubes tickled my lips.

"You better be better at this," she said. "Lick me."

I darted my tongue out and found her slit was still open from my short penetration. It was hard for me to get my bearings in that unfamiliar furrow just by touch, and just by the touch of my tongue and lips at that. I wish I could have seen what I was doing, but she was June, and she was angry, so I knew better than to speak.

I passed my tongue up and down through her gash, and though her lips were small, at their joining I found the bud of her clitoris, and flicked my tongue at it, slowly, trying to lick it out of its hood like a dog gets at something. Even when I pushed my tongue lower, in the salty, lumpy expanse of her vulva, I kept my upper lip twitching on the little bud. She liked it, or so it seemed, and pushed her hairy mound almost painfully against my nose. Further down still my tongue found her vaginal opening, so narrow it seemed unlikely even my risible organ could enter it, and so I just licked the opening gently. Her clitoris had grown out of proportion with the rest of her small genitals, or maybe it was just the way it felt in mouth; I tried to visualize it, pink and swollen, as I lapped it again and again, with more application than I thought possible. Suddenly she stopped moving altogether. She did not make a sound, but almost immediately she rose and I felt confusedly her feet hammering the mattress around my head.

Then she knelt again. Her cold round buttocks hit my face. She was now facing away from my head, looking toward my feet, and more.

"Lick my ass," she said. I had never done it and the thought filled me with revulsion. As I rubbed my tongue through her groove, without finding the exact opening of her anus, I felt hair and sweat, although it did not really taste as bad as I had feared.

It seemed like she did not even enjoy it, she just wanted to degrade me. What pleased her much more was my penis, of which she had got hold. After its early exertions it lay on my newly-shaved belly, short and soft. But she had grabbed it with tree fingers tugged on it mercilessly. I could feel it, still flaccid, being painfully stretched to the greatest extent it could be. I could feel her amusement at what a small thing it was . When she tired of that she started pulling back my foreskin so roughly it hurt, revealing my small wet glans.

"Leave some for the others," May said.
"Fine." June skidded forward and I could now feel her round buttocks on my midsection, as she kept on playing with my genitals now right in front of her. Someone else sat on my face, but it wasn't May's heavy body. I felt a mat of short, hard hair on my face and I smelt again, stronger, Phryne's spiceful odor. Her wide, moist lips spread on my cheeks and her lithe thighs pressed around my head.

"You found the spot with your little dick," she said. "Now find it with your mouth."
"I could do it better if I could see. I'd do it really well," I dared to say, in a voice muffled by the intimate flesh pressed on me.
"Not a chance," June answered. "Get to it or I'll really hurt you."

I started licking her small clitoris and her heavy, leathery lips till covered in secretions. Then she put her hand on my hair, pushed it lower. I obeyed, reached the opening of her vagina and slid my tongue in her, thrusting it out of my mouth so far it felt about to rip. I circled her wide pit and stopped when I felt her shiver. Was it the same spot, he wondered, when the tip of my penis had touched her, or more exactly where she had touched herself with it? It was on the front wall of her vagina, deep enough inside that I could only touch it with the extremity of my outstretched, flicking tongue.

"Don't stop," Phryne moaned.
"Don't stop," June insisted with her hand cupped around my scrotum and penis.
Now Sophie's black friend was rubbing herself over my face, I felt her coarse-haired crotch bump unpleasantly against my nose, her small round buttocks pummel my cheeks.
"Don't stop, don't stop," she repeated. I of course kept licking, wondering about the spiceful crotch upon my face. How pink was it, how black? How did those big leathery lips look, spread like moist wings? Maybe it was these interrogations that affected my much-tormented penis, which I felt stiffen and enlarge in June's tight grasp, just as Phryne finally froze with a shout. After the briefest of hesitations, I kept licking the sensitive spot, and she lingered there on the obliging twitches of my tongue, speechless.

When she eventually moved on my face was drenched and May wiped them roughly with some towel.

"It's my turn," she insisted.

End of chapter 5
-------------------------------------------------------------

6.Alfred gets a second chance

"Very well," June said. "You still want to lie down on the bed?"
"Yeah, I think it's best."
"OK, let me get Alfred up to speed." Then she talked to me, her hand still around my parts. "We're going to untie you, Alfred, so our friend May can lie down in your place. Now I trust you won't do anything dumb? Because if you do, if you try to run or to resist or even disobey one single order, I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt your little dick and balls a lot. Get it?"
"Yes," I mumbled. I expected her to insist, but I must have sounded defeated enough, because she did not. My feet were untied from the bedpost, then immediately tied together, and I opposed no resistance. Then I felt a noose being slipped around my neck, and tightened, not to the point it hurt or choked me, but enough that I could hardly move without strangling myself, as long as the rope was taut. And finally they untied my wrists, burning with the sudden onrush of blood.

"Get up, Alfred." Someone was pulling on the noose, probably not June since her hand was still on my parts. I sat on the bed's edge and rose clumsily to my feet, careful not to fall. I wondered if I fell if they would think to let go in time, or strangle me, or tear apart my genitals.
I heard May behind me fall heavily on the mattress, and Phryne's rough-palmed hands turned me around by the shoulders.

"On your knees, Alfred." For once it was not June giving the orders. "You have one more pussy to lick."

I felt very unsteady as I knelt, terrified again of falling and hurting myself, or to give the impression I was not fully compliant; it felt better once I found the mattress with my hands in front of me, an rested my weight on them.

Phryne removed the noose grabbed me by the hair, firmly but without violence, which made me think of her own black, lush hair, and of rubbing my hands in it. She guided my head upward and then pushed it against May's smooth, tender, hairless crotch. My chest was on the mattress, almost to my midsection, and my hands on her thick, muscular thighs. Below that my hips jutted awkwardly off the bed, allowing June to keep her grasp on my parts, and my bound and outstretched legs struggled to support their weight, with the result that I pushed and pushed on my toes, thrusting my head forward like a hog in the through, into her gaping gash. By then it was almost a habit for me to pleasure my wife's friends, may she forgive me; and so I started lapping at May's warm moist flesh.

It was hard, for a while, to get my bearings there; unlike the two others who had ridden my face, she could not move her hips much to direct my attention, and so I licked blindly, but not entirely without effect, to judge by her movements and her labored breathing. And when finally my tongue found the folds of her short lips, and followed them to their confluence and her hard little bud, I satisfied her so quickly it stirred in me a strange, misplaced pride. Sophie hadn't lied, I was good at this! The feeling was absurd and fleeting, yet for a moment it almost distracted me from fear and shame.
In the throes of pleasure May shouted immodestly, a series of wordless, primal cries, like the bellow of a great beast. As her large thighs closed around my head I remembered how big she was, and strong. It was with some relief that he felt them relax again.

Immediately May put her hands in my hair and pulled me up. I crawled up on her immense body, kissing it as I went, until our hips met and my face was between her large, soft breasts. June's hand between my legs slipped a condom on my small organ, and gave it a quick squeeze lest I forgot her orders. Then I was in May.

Having my hands on the mattress, feeling her large body under mine, gave me a feeling of familiarity I had not felt so far. In some way it was like making love to poor, betrayed Sophie. My diminutive penis went in, admittedly not much, at the rhythm of my rocking hips, not on that imposed on me by a strange woman. May met me, eagerly; this time it did not fall out of her, and in remembering the humiliation that had been, I felt strangely invigorated.

"Is your small dick in, Alfred?" she asked. "Make me feel it."

In truth her mockery spurred me. I thrust wildly, as if to recover the control taken from me. She met me with her own hips, and finally I felt something. Most of my shaft floated, unstimulated, in her wet, loose depths, but the top of my glans bumped into something soft of her that made her tremble. That would be her spot. Again and again I tapped it, and now she was no longer mocking. Her powerful chest resounded with low growls, louder and louder, which I could tell she was trying to contain. My strength renewed, I thrust more vigorously, angry, frustrated, desperate to make that absurd point, that I could inflict pleasure on one of those cruel women who had made a toy of me, who mocked my body as I had always feared it mocked. As I went, I pawed her huge, soft breasts, as if I was the master and not her, slobbered on her sweaty throat. She howled.

Hands closed around my neck, pulled me back. As soon as I was out of May, still hard, June threw me on the mattress with surprising strength, climbed unto me and raped me again.

"Don't touch me!" She barked. May and Phryne each grabbed one of me hands. June was holding my throat, tightly enough that I felt her nails on my skin. After my momentary triumph now I felt as helpless as ever. That mean, vindictive woman was pummeling me, engulfing my small hard member like an object.

"You did make me come," May said, still resting on the bed by my side, caressing my hair with the hand that did not hold mine. "Not as much as a normal dick, but I did come. You can make a woman come. Now make June come, and we can be done for today."

June's vagina was holding me, as firmly as a fist. With great terror I could feel my own forbidden pleasure mounting, again. I imagined his sperm boiling in my scrotum, stirring at the root of my shameful shaft. I tried to think of something else, but what could I think of other than the cruel woman pummeling me, raping me, forcing pleasure on my battered, insulted organ?

She shook with an angry roar, clutching my throat so hard I feared she meant to kill me. Almost at once I spilled too, pushing my hips up in a long, violent jerk. She dismounted me, the others let go of my hands, and for the first time since it all began, no one was touching me; I was alone in his body, left to think about what happened. Even my feet were untied, although I did not remember when it had happened.

My member, shriveled, was so short the condom fell off on its own. Someone took it and splatted the content on my torso.

"Come on, June," Phryne said, "he's been good. Obedient at least."
"I think I'm the one you prefer," she said. "Every time you come it's into me."

End of chapter 6

[Quinotaurus]

7.Alfred's end.

"I still can't believe how small it is," May said. "It's got to be some sort of disease. I can't believe it even works."
"But it does work," Phryne said. "And it looks like he can use it. Is that right Alfred? Did you enjoy that? Fucking us with your little dick?"

There was no good answer, so I might as well go with the truth.

"Yes."
They giggled.
"You want to do it again?"
I felt disgusted, frightened.
"I can't do it again."
"Oh, can't you?"

Then one of the girls, I could not immediately tell which, lay by my side and started to caress my shriveled organ, but much more gently this time, as if she had finally taken pity on me.

"Sophie?"

Beloved lips kissed me and I understood nothing. She took off my blindfold and she was there, sitting on the bed on a little white dress, smiling.

"Isn't he great?" she asked.
"He's fine." Her three friends stood by the foot of the bed, in bathing robes, still looking at my nudity.

By now I was beyond modesty; I just blinked stupidly at the light.

"You saw it all?" I asked, dumbly.
"I watched it all, Alfred. Lover."
"She was seated in that armchair," May said. There was indeed an armchair in the corner, and just by it a camera on a tripod. Phryne had a smaller one in her hand, which they must have taken turn operating. She brandished it.

"Yes, we recorded you, all of it. It was a good show. And if you keep everything that happened here to yourself, we'll keep it to yourself. Our little secret."
The other too giggled at the word little, and again I felt bashful.
"What matters," Sophie said, "is that my friends approve of you. Of us."
"I do," said May.
"I do," said Phryne.
"I do," said June. "Barely. So it's a deal. You're Sophie's now. Completely hers."

I knew then that the episode I had experienced would go unmentioned in the future, but not unremembered. Every dinner with the Quartet, every outing, every chance meeting, I would be in the presence of women who had seen my nakedness and my shame, and abused me. I did not quite look forward to it.

They looked at each other and Phryne spoke up: "Since we looked at you I think it's fair you get one last look at us, bachelor."

They had done a lot more than look, thought I. But when she disrobed I was stunned by her lithe body. Her skin was a very dark brown, and completely black areolas tipped her narrow breasts.

"Do you want to touch them?" she asked. Now that my eyes were uncovered she was looking at them searchingly, judgingly, as if gauging every move and decision I made in light of the time I had spent between her legs. But of course the answer was yes. I looked at Sophie, who nodded, and extended my arm. Phryne stopped me.

"Just one last thing, Alfred, you have to choose. You can touch me once, anywhere, and then never again. But just in one place, no more."

I looked her beautiful body up and down; there were so many places where I wanted to put my hand. In fact the thought just to touch her skin, anywhere, maddened me.

"What do you chose, Alfred? Do you want to touch my pussy?"
I saw her dark-haired mound and her open slit, through which hung the two darker flaps I remembered feeling, leathery and moist ; and just above it, slender hips and a dainty navel on a soft slim belly ; and below it the thin thighs and wrinkled knees, one of which had a scar paler than the rest of her skin.

"Do you want to touch my face?"

I saw her full lips, black and pink, her high cheekbones and her short nose; and around it the lush, dark hair for which my fingers yearned.

"Do you want to touch my ass?"

She turned around in a little slow dance, showing me her rotund little buttocks, that I could remember bouncing on my thighs, and put her strange white-palmed hands behind her head, revealing deep sweaty armpits.

"You have to choose, Alfred."

To give me this choice was one last torment; and I stopped it by moving forward, and cupping her left breast in my tremulous hand. It was soft and supple and cool, yielding under my fingers. In my palm I could feel the different, rubbery texture of her dark areola, and the solid nub of her nipple.

"Do you like it better than Sophie's?" she asked.

And on that last, disturbing question she moved away.

Now May was in front of me, slightly taller, nude, displaying her broad, strong body.

"I'm not like Phryne," she said. You can touch me everywhere."

So I fell upon her like a starved dog upon meat.

"Hands only, Alfred," she reminded me.

But she let my hands roam all over her, apparently flattered by my attentions. I caressed her wide pinked-tipped breasts again, her solid arms, her enormous rump and even the shaved surface of that sex in which I had labored so savagely. May was a simple woman, all strength and sense. Even her cruelty was naïve as a child's. Of all three (four!) women, she was the one at which I felt no rancor, no mixed feeling for using me so.

When I finally let go, Sophie noticed I was hard again.

"That belongs to me now," she said and seized the small organ.

Meanwhile June, my short tormentor, had walked in front of us.

"This is the one time I allow you to ogle my breasts like you want to. The one and only time," she sneered, and she opened her bathrobe.

Her breasts were as beautiful as I had thought: pale, smooth, heavy, especially on a frame so small, with just a bit of sag. Red-brown areolas, large but perfectly round, tipped them, with nipples wide and short. Were they enhanced? I could see no scar.

"You may look, but you will never touch them, I'm saving it for my husband."
I vaguely remember she was supposed to marry one Pietro in two months, and wondered…
"You'd better not tell anybody about what happened tonight," she reminded me, then she covered back her chest.
"Tomorrow you marry Sophie. And after that you must stay with her forever, and never look at any other woman, and give her orgasms, even when she's old and her breasts sag."

The others giggled.
"You must stay with her and make her come. For as long as she'll have you. Or else."

And so it went.

End of chapter 7
-------------------------------------------------------------

End of the story. Thanks for reading. Lemme know if you like it and if you'd like more or something different.