THE ELECTRICIAN Part 21
CONTINUED FROM HERE - This is a newly rewritten story, involving "Privateer" - get to know him....
They watched as the girl's shapely gams in their torn thigh-highs started to move. Alissa was sitting up. Brianne was on her knees. Then they were crawling, scraping their faces and chests against the sofas and floor, setting off even more sparks inside themselves.
Finally Brianne made a terrible sound, reared up to her feet and charged toward the wall despite her blindfold and high heels. The host caught her before she got close, expertly swinging her behind the sofa. There he quickly wrapped a thick scarf around her lower face, shoved her head into a pillow, and expertly bound her weakened thighs to her ankles with more black tape.
"Ssh, ssh, ssh," he whispered into her encased ear as he also wrapped her waist so her wrists were trapped in the small of her back. "We don't want to disturb your friend, do we?"
Then he tore off the remainder of her dress, unbuckled the dildoes, pulled the pillow case off, yanked away the scarf, removed the prod, and slipped out the ring gag.
But before she could make a sound, he stuffed the remainder of her dress into her mouth -- pushing, pushing, pushing until it filled the orifice. Then, with the remaining laces, he tied it tight between her teeth and lips. Then his hand was there, silencing her further.
"Now, now, now," he hissed so quietly the viewers had to read his lips. "You won, you see?" He silently removed the tape from her eyes. The marbles bounced soundlessly on the thick carpet. "See?"
Even the dim light seemed like spotlights to Brianne's pressured eyes until she blinked furiously.
"There, there," he murmured, retying the thick scarf over her mouth so tightly her cheek skin bulged slightly above and beneath it. "Now you know, right?"
He raised the blonde until she could see over the sofa. There Alissa was, still straining for her face, still wrenching her torso, still rolling around the other couch, still scratching at the vibrator. Brianne started to cry as he lowered her onto his haunches.
He fucked her there, then laid her face first on the floor so she could see around the couch to where Alissa struggled. He slowly fucked the blonde up the ass there, rubbing her tits on the thick shag. Then, finally, he sat on her stomach, with her head peeking around the other side of the couch, and tit-fucked her.
Brianne watched as Alissa gained her feet, started to unsteadily sidle over toward the wall, touched the glassed-in bookshelves, and make her way toward the door. Brianne watched as Alissa's legs started to shake and her body wretched as the ever-twisting, surging dildo did its work, its base scraping her abused clit. Brianne watched as Alissa's shoulder touched the door, her trembling fingers reaching for the doorknob....
Brianne watched as Alissa's knees caved in and she fell to the floor -- where she lay, twitching.
Then the host came into Brianne’s eyes.
"We should pay you," said the electrician facetiously as the blonde and brunette were dumped into laundry carts. The host had made a present of lace-up leather hoods and single sleeves that buckled around their wrists, elbows, upper arms, and shoulders. White for Alissa, of course, and black for Brianne.
They had been dressed in soft cashmere-silk-lycra spandex, spaghetti-strap, midriff exposing t-shirts -- which were yanked down beneath their breasts -- and matching French-cut panties to better set off their bondage. Their stockings were replaced with thigh socks, which were then strapped at the ankles, knees, and thighs for their journey home.
Inside their hoods, with their mouths filled with a pear-shaped plug, their eyes padded down, and their ears stuffed, they were aware of nothing but the jiggling of their tits, nebulous sensations, and empty movement.
"Not at all," said the host, who gave them cash. They all pushed the laundry carts out to the electrician's van. Wrapping them in dirty sheets, the squatters loaded the shapely bodies up. It was four in the morning. As the electrician started the engine, the women unwrapped the girls on the floor, each head facing the opposite way of the other, and the men, unable to decide who should go first, masturbated.
Their pent-up lust splattered the girls' tits, thighs, and hooded faces. One or two even lifted the elastic top of their panties and shot his wad inside. As soon as the electrician found a parking lot, he pulled in to masturbate as well. He unloaded one for each, hitting Brianne in the ear and Alissa across her chest.
He stood there, staring down at the still shapes, the moonlight gleaming off the ooze of cum, realizing that he was still rock hard. After what they had witnessed, he knew it was not enough to get them off. Besides, after what the party-giver had paid, they had enough to accomplish the deal.
"Come on," the electrician said huskily. "Let's celebrate."
They kept the hoods on as the squatter women changed Brianne and Alissa back into their cheerleader and school uniforms. Then the electrician wired the girls' elbows together behind them. Only after he stepped back did the women move forward again. They replaced the hoods with ring gag harnesses, which buckled around their heads and under their chins so they couldn't dislodge the jaw-wrenching circles.
They had been brought to a windowless upstairs bedroom at the construction site, the door further muffled by torn blankets and mattresses. There, in the darkness, even though their legs were free, there was nowhere to go. Not with five men and two women surrounding them hungrily.
The squatters and electrician waited just long enough for the blonde and brunette's eyes to adjust to the darkness. As soon as each started, realizing where they were, the men leaped forward, visions of the bodyguards in their heads.
It was a mass of grunting, moaning, tearing, gasping, sobbing movement. Alissa was on her back, a man on her stomach with his cock between her tits, another forcing his log into her open mouth. Brianne was on her face, another cock sliding into her yanked-up mouth as the electrician entered her from behind and the last man slapped his cock into her flailing hands.
Then the women were there, pinching tits when the men weren't, twisting clits when the men weren't surging into them, and plunging their fingers into the girls' sphincters as the men fucked their cunts.
They each took a turn at each orifice, often at the same time. Alissa sat on one while being forced to suck off another. Brianne was held in mid-air, impaled on a cock in her cunt and another all the way in her mouth. Their shirts were torn off. Their skirts were shredded. It didn't matter. The low-cut, high-hem uniforms had served their purpose.
Finally, Brianne lay in just the remnants of her skirt, her sneakers and ankle socks. Alissa was naked except for her lace socks. Cum poured from their mouths, soaked their hair, and coated their inner legs. As the electrician wired their wrists and ankles, he thought they had never looked better.
The squatter women moved forward, stepping carefully around the sleeping bodies of the men, to tighten padded prod gags deep within the girls' aching, cum-coated mouths.
TO BE CONTINUED