Taking the Sword Sisters 3

Taking The Sword Sisters

by Mr. K

The man’s tongue moved slowly. It wasn’t as though he was trying to lap up Brooke’s sex, but was trying to explore her. It was like there were details of her pussy that he wanted to find expose. Instead of digging his tongue into her, he inched it along, slowly, slowly pushing it along up through the sodden, pink folds of her pussy. He would stop for a second, swallowing the juice and saliva that had built up on his lips and the corners of his mouth, then he would start again in the very same place, continuing the trip to her clit.

He had reconfigured her bondage. Her legs were up in stirrups as if she was at the gyno’s, still held by those blue bands, and spread wide. Her arms were still flung out and pinned. Her crotch was exposed.

With her wrists in cuffs, and her ankles in cuffs, biting her lower lips, the tall, lean woman could only absorb the currents of her cunt being licked by her captor. She was no longer a robot like her sisters; her captor wanted her to feel what was happening, and exhibit it. He wanted to hear the groaning and the shuddering when her ate her out.

She flung her head back and heaved with a thick, sonorous groan. Her legs shook.

She had reacted the same way when he fucked her, taking her first in that juicy quivering honey pot of a cunt, then withdrawing and working his way hard up her ass. He had given her the ability to feel, to react, just so he could hear the tallest of the captive sisters scream. The strength that could have released her from her bonds was gone, and all that the captive could do was absorb the punishing cock. Her cunt was tight, and he gripped her hips and pulled into the tall woman as if he was trying to bury himself.

He looked into her eyes and began sliding hard and fast into her pussy, her pungent juices allowing him into her. They still glistened on his rod when raised her hips higher and put himself, slowly, into her ass. Her asshole opened for the dreary man’s cock, and she screamed. He gave her inch after inch in her sensitive ass, and she screamed.

And now he was eating her.

“When you are quite done with that ….” Said an eloquently accented voice from the doorway. With the back of his hand wiping the juice from his face, the man looked up to see his benefactor. He, Rakshasa, was back. The man-god who had given him these powers and sent him out to collect superwomen was back.

“Yes sir!” he said as he stood up rigidly, Foil’s juices glistening on his face.

“Don’t let me stop you. I want you to enjoy yourself. Please.” He made a sweeping gesture at the bound woman with the soppy vagina. The man smiled, but before he bent to his work he nodded at the two women who walked behind Rakshasa.

“You got them.”

Their eyes sleepy, with painted lids dropping, Cutlass and Saber stood behind their tall, magical master. They were fully clothed now, and clean of his artwork. They were controlled robots who could only watch as their sister moaned and writhed under a villain’s tongue.

Now he sucked Foil’s clit with deep, thirsty pulls, taking the tiny, hard bud as mercilessly as he could. Again, she screamed for him. Now he stood again, this time ready for the next step.

He stood back as Rakshasa snapped his fingers.

Saber dropped to her knees, then fell down to all fours. In her hip boots and two-piece neon blue-green, with her busty, curvy figure, with her mind under complete control, the blond crawled to the center of the room and poised herself. On all fours, she waited, her back straight.

Cutlass came next, long muscular legs flexing in her fishnet stockings. The woman with the auburn hair went to the floor beside her blond sister. A few feet away, she mimicked the straight back and submissive pose of her blond sister.

“And now, “ said Rakshasa. Again he snapped his fingers, The bands and cuffs that held Foil vanished. The woman’s body began to rise, first in that same pose, then her long legs snapped sharply together and her arms came down, held to her sides. Her back was straightened out, and she levitated. Her hair flattened out along her back.

Rakshasa spoke to the two kneeling women.

“Why don’t you two say that little incantation that human girls say at slumber parties? The three of you used to do it when you had séances. This was before you discovered your powers, of course. You do the magic now.”

He allowed their minds to roll back to the chant that they used when they tried to levitate Brooke on Halloween nights.

“Light as a feather, stiff as a board, light as a feather, stiff as a board, light as a feather, stiff as a board….”

They stayed on their hands and knees, chanting. Foil, the oldest sister in her skin-tight red costume, floated through the air. The magic-user and his minion watched, their faces split with grins.

“Light as a feather, stiff as a board …. Light as a feather, stiff as a board ….”

They chanted it now as Brook’s body floated across the room, a sleek, curvaceous board. She glided through the air, rotated slightly, and came to hover over her two submissive sisters. The captor gave them a cue, and the two women slowed their chanting.

Foil lowered, and came to rest on their backs. Like a piece of wood across two saw horses, she lay rigid on her sister’s backs.

“Open,” said the captor.

Her legs opened as sharply and abruptly as they had closed.

Again, her gushing pussy was left vulnerable and exposed. She stared at the ceiling.

“This is why we have come here today,” Rakshasa said.

He let me feel. I could feel the backs of my sisters supporting me. I could feel the cool air of the room on my cunt, and I could feel my pinkness pulsing and aching.

He would not let me move. My body would not respond, no matter how hard I demanded that it move and protect me from this villain.

When he loomed over me, his cock snaking as if it had a mind of its own, I braced myself.

“I am going to fuck you, and lay my seed in your body. Your magic will merge with mine, and I will have my offspring.”

It would have been a waste of energy to even think about resistance. I felt myself surrender. I felt myself give in.

It was the same way a month before this when we battled … lost to … the Ropemaster and one of the Rooks. I had to accept surrender that night, at least for a time. I had to accept the beer-bottle girth of his sweaty cock in my mouth, and all of my hair twisted and twined around his black-gloved fist. He had it so tight, and yanked up so hard that I felt my spine stretching and body being pulled up from the floor where he’d slammed me down.

He pulled me up just crotch high.

My wrists were bound behind my back.

Using my long hair as a tightly twisted handle, he pumped my head back and forth, back and forth, making me give him slick, juicy head. Sometimes he used both hands, really forcing my head, and others the massive power of one hand was enough.

Ropemaster was across the room hanging my sisters. From where I knelt, looking past and between the tree-trunk legs of The Rook, I could see the curvy, thick muscles of Tiff’s legs in their neon green, skin-tight hip boots. She was bound at the ankles, tightly, and they struggled in a herky-jerky dance. I couldn’t see the rope around her neck, but I knew that Ropemaster had her noosed and strung-up, his rope slung over a pipe. One end of the rope was around her neck and the other was in his hands.

I could hear her muffled choking sounds.

He had tied up Tina in a choking hog-tie. A loop was around her throat, lashed to her ankles with a rope that had been soaked in water. Her wrists were tied to a chastity belt of rope that wrapped and crisscrossed, running between her muscular thigh. It was pulled tightly in the cleft of her ass and wedged up tightly in the crease of her sex. The rope was red, and stood out against the black boots, black fishnets and skin-tight white body suit. As the rope dried, it tightened. As it tightened, it rubbed her sex, and closed tightly around her throat. It squeezed her body tightly in a thick rope fist, and I sucked off our captor.

I just had to accept it.

When Humiliatrix had me, I just had to accept it. When she had me down on all fours, and Roadmaster was there to assist her with his jeans and leather vest and crazy fucking mullet. He opened his pants and let that massive tool of his lop out.

“Catch Roadmaster’s cock in your mouth, and give him a good sucking. No hands,” Humiliatrix laughed.

I opened my mouth wide, my eyes fixed on the huge tool that he had just released from his jeans. It flopped out, partially erect, but sprang to life, stiff and thick. With my red mouth open as wide as I could make it, I moved my head from one side to the other, raised up a bit from my kneeling position, and closed my mouth around the big organ. I closed it in a slow, fierce suck.

He grabbed my hair.

My lips were stretched forward on the hard meat, and I did my best to pump with my neck muscles, moving my head back and forth as Humiliatrix watched in delight. She had a short show, as the big man reached his peak quickly and sprayed a gooey river over my face. His skin was salty, and his spume was salty. Some went down my throat, some painted my face white. I just accepted it.

“Oh, is the other prisoner ready?” I heard Humiliatrix ask.

Through the oozing, white veil, I could see Humiliatrix’s black-clad henchwomen dragging in Arachnae. These were members of the League of the Black Cat, tall, leggy bitches who acted as Humiliatrix’s muscle. They were on either side of the blue-and-red clad woman in their PVC skin-tight body stockings. She was a prisoner, like me, and under control. She walked dutifully to bench that they had set up, and bent over, her ass in the air. She spread her legs and placed her palms on the wooden bench. She bowed her head. As Roadmaster doused me with cum, I could heard a leather belt colliding with her firm ass.

“This is her special humiliation,” said Humiliatrix happily. “She’s a bad girl, aren’t you Arachnae?”

“Yes ma’am.” Her voice was that of an obedient child.

Then Humiliatrix looked at me.

“I’m the queen, right?” she asked me matter-of-factly.

“Yes, your majesty.” Semen ran over and dripped from my lips when I spoke.

“So, I’m going to get into the queening chair, and you’re going to eat my pussy.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

I waited, and accepted. She walked across the room in her long, black evening gown, the flash of her shapely legs peeking through the slit in the side.

Her queening chair was a tall, elaborate affair with a high, carved back, and a smooth open toilet-type seat. It had a place for me, for my head, to be wedged just below her perch.

As one of the henchwomen continued the spanking of Arachnae, two others took me by the arms and dragged me to the throne. They were rough and heavy-handed as they strapped me down on a wooden plank with thick, black leather straps. They undid my wrists and secured them down by my sides. They pinned my legs and strapped them together on the hard, cruel wood of the board. They adjusted me, and slid my face under the chair.

It was simply a dark box, and when I looked up, there was my new owner’s pussy spread wide over my face. Sitting on the chair opened her up pussy up, naturally, and presented me with the deep, dark pink oyster of Humiliatrix.

You could hear the wet lapping and sucking of my mouth against her sex, and I had to accept it.

When I was laid out across my sisters’ backs, all three of us enslaved, and Rakshasa was poised between my spread legs with his cock snaking and reaching on its own, I had to accept it.

“Demand it,” he said.

I was silent.

“Demand that I fill you with my seed and make you pregnant. Say it.”

I could feel my sisters acting as a platform below me. Their magic was flowing, pouring from their bodies and up through mine. They were acting as a conduit for his magic. They were finishing the circuit.

“Please, fuck me and make me pregnant.”

I felt my eyes widen. I felt my red lips part in a silent scream. Every nerve from my pussy lips to deep in my uterus was suddenly on fire. The flames coursed up my spine and fanned out through every muscle. His eyes met mine, smiling, and a thick, white jet stream filled me up.

I screamed. He poured all of his energy into me, and I howled as my head as filled with a sea of his images. I saw Gold being mummified by him, his magic compelling tapestries to leap off the walls and wrap her tightly until she was a curvaceous, long-legged silhouette. I could feel him taking during a different battle, flying high above the city with the tall blond in his clutches. I could feel both of his huge erections plunging into her. I saw him snapping his fingers and defeating Bora and Cold Front. The mother and daughter in their blue and white costumes fainted dead away at his feet. I could feel their enslavement, and the way they both sucked his cocks. I could feel Night Star being turned to stone. I could feel Mystic being levitated.

I could feel his power in my cunt.

“He said that I could keep you,” I said.

Cutlass was facing her sister.

“He took Foil, because now she carries his seed, but I could keep you.”

Saber’s thick, hip-booted legs were interwoven with her sister’s. Cutlass’s arms were around her small, blond sister’s body. Saber embraced her sister in the same way.

“He said that I could keep you forever.”

Their hair was woven together, auburn and blond twisted and twined, woven together in one long pony tail that I’d connected to the rope-and-hook contraption that hung from the ceiling. Their wrists and ankles were bound. Each had her end of a huge double-head dildo in her mouth. They looked into each other’s eyes.

“The next time you see Brook, she will have been turned by my master, and his brood will be flowing over the globe like a black wave.”

They could hear me, and they could do nothing.

I pushed the “on’ button on the controller that I held. The winch moaned, and the women were pulled up, up, up in their body knot posture. Once it clicked and stopped, two lush-bodied heroine sisters, slaves, were hanging from the ceiling.

I turned off the light.

“He said that I could keep you two.”

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