Trans-Siberian Express

Tom got the very distinct feeling the redhead was here for the same reason as the woman who had just fucked him and then emptied her bladder over him. This girl was a fair bit younger than the last, perhaps a couple years older than Tom himself. There was haughtiness about the way she looked, as if she were somehow above it all and very accustomed to getting everything she wanted.

Striding across the room, the redhead stopped near the aquarium, eyes evaluating him.

Looking up at her, he frowned. He had seen that look in a girl’s eyes before, that little half smirk. On Janine’s face, but not sweet nice Janine, the other one.

Turning her back to him, she spoke to Anastasia in Russian. That pissed him off.

The words of the dialogue between the two women while unknown to him, the substance was not too hard to fathom. Achieving some accord between them, Anastasia exited the room.

Turning slowly back to him, the redhead leaned closed to the aquarium, “My name is Irina,” she informed, speaking English.

Cocking his head to the side, “Are you here to liberate me from my confinement?” he inquired directly.

“No,” she replied, smile broadening.

Tom chuckled, “Then do I care?” he asked, giving her a mocking grin in return.

“No, I suppose you do not,” she replied, nodding slowly.

Tom gave her a wink, “Bang on the money,” he said.

“I’m not sure I understand that terminology, but it too matters little,” she remarked, reaching up and unbuttoning her blouse. Removing her bra, she reached her right hand into the aquarium and captured him. Using her left hand, she pulled down a rubber band from her right wrist, stretching it and looping around his body a number of times like a spider wrapping her prey, the elongated rubber biting cruelly into his flesh.

Inspecting her handiwork, she casually tossed him onto the top of the bed, impact knocking the air from his lungs before he rolled to a stop near the center as she returned to the cart.

It was bad enough being small and at the whim of a giant girl, but being small, immobilized, and at the mercy of giant mean girl, nope. Gritting his teeth, he wriggled trying to dislodge at least one of the restraining loops encircling his body. If he could get just one, that would relieve some of the pressure from the others.

Glancing over her shoulder, “Struggle all you want,” she encouraged, picking up a long slender candle from the top of the cart with her left hand. Picking up the gold colored lighter, she brought it to flame, touching the fire to the wick of the candle, igniting it. Cupping her right hand around the flickering flame to shield it, she walked back toward the bed.

Seeing her approach and uncertain of her intent with the fire, Tom redoubled his efforts, able to somehow get his left arm free.

“Look at you go,” she praised, climbing onto the bed on her knees and shuffling toward him.

Lying on his back essentially between her parted knees, Tom ceased trying to free himself, eyes glued to the lit candle.

Lower the candle, she tilted it slightly above him, a single red drop of molten wax escaping and splashing down across his lower legs.

“Holy shit fuck!” bellowed Tom, eyes round as the heated wax reddened his skin before hardening.

Bringing the candle back to vertical, Irina chuckled, “You like that?” she inquired.

“How about, like fuck no,” he replied energetically.

She laughed, “Your mouth says no, but your eyes beg for more,” she said, lowering the candle again.

Seeing the drip form, Tom wait until it released before rolling into the gravity well created by her weight on the bed, the drop landing harmlessly on the blanket.

Settling back on her heels, she raised the candle above her exposed right breast, dripping wax onto her nipple, “Mmm,” she noised appreciatively as the wax encircled the tight flesh and dribbled partway down over the aureole.

“Crazy as a bag of cats,” Tom grumbled, now unable to move in the depression created by her knee.

Massaging her other breast, Irina brought the candle back close to Tom, pouring two more quick drips across his thighs and lower legs.

“That burns!” he exclaimed, the flesh under the hardening wax stinging fiercely.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she pouted.

Glowering at her, he shook his head as best he could.

Chuckling softly, she brought the candle back over him, spilling more of the molten liquid over him and bringing the flame dangerously close to his skin, the proximity softening the previously cooled wax on his legs.

“Easy there pyro!” he shouted, voice rising in pitch as the flame neared.

Bringing the candle up near her mouth, she pursed her lips and snuffed out the flame with a quick breath, a tendril of smoke crawling up from the blackened wick. Twisting to the side, she climbed off the bed, setting the candle down before removing her slacks and underwear.

With only his left arm unbound, Tom pulled himself over onto his side, trying to keep an eye on her.

Selecting a spool of black threat off the cart, she measured out an arm’s length and brought the spool to her mouth, cutting the thread between her pearly white teeth. Walking back over to the bed, she sat down, scooping him up in her right hand. Fashioning a loop with a slipknot on one end of the thread, “Hold still,” she urged, dropping it over his left forearm and looping it several times before cinching it tight. Picking up the other end of the thread, she twirled it around her index finger and lifted him up to her face.

Dangling from his arm, Tom swayed back and forth in front of her.

Giggling, she brought her lips together and blew on him, the force driving him back and away causing him to twist wildly on the end of the thread.

Opening her mouth wide, she waited for him to come toward her on the inswing, snapping her jaws shut dangerously close to him.

Lifting him over her head, she once again open her mouth wide, lowering him inside along the length of her tongue. Closing her lips, she swallowed him, the muscles of her esophagus contracting around him and propelling him down into her stomach.

Greeted by a humid acidic environment, “Hey!” he tried to yell, inhaling some of the toxic atmosphere as he slid over the mucous coated ridges inside her stomach.

Then she was tugging at him by the thread wrapped around his arm, jerking him back up into her esophagus, over her tongue and through her lips, swinging free.

“What the fuck is your damage?” he demanded angrily.

She grinned wickedly as she piled up a couple of pillows and reclined back against the headboard. Laying him near her navel, she put the thread between her teeth. Bit by bit she used her teeth to draw the string up, pulling him up over her stomach, through the hollow between her breasts, and onto her chin, his fingers brushing the silk soft flesh of her lower lip.

Curling her hand around him, she pulled him away, the thread spinning out from between her lips until it swung free. “I think I am going to put you in my ass while I play with myself,” she shared, nodding to herself.

How do you say ‘Deranged psycho’ in Russian?

Flipping onto her stomach, she put her head down and elevated her rump, sliding first one then two fingers into her behind to facilitate pushing him in. Still slick with saliva from her mouth, she guided him into her anus feet first, driving his body deep until only his hand remained nestled amidst the crinkled flukes of her asshole.

Confined inside the incredibly tight sleeve of her rectum, he could feel her moving around. The ferocious pressure and movement made it nearly impossible for him breath, forcing him to take huge gulps just to catch a taste of fetid air.

Suddenly the pressure intensified almost exponentially. Through the thin tissue separating her vagina from her ass, Tom felt something hard being slowly driven into her pussy making the already claustrophobic interior of her bottom even worse. Picking up her speed, she vigorously and repeatedly rammed the solid object into her pussy.

Tom felt as if he was being sucked deeper into the abyss of her dark recess. When she came, her whole body convulses, shaking violently. The pain was overwhelming and the gurgling noises coming from up the channel filled him with a foreboding sense of dread that she might have a bowel movement.

The jerking motion tugging at his arm hurt, the thread cutting into his skin as she dragged him out of her ass and left him in the slimy wet spot created by her release. Lying still, Tom breathed deeply, the sweet cool air revitalizing him but causing his skin to pucker.

Getting up off the bed, Irina exited the room, humming a soft melody Tom couldn’t place.

Natalya appeared, crossing the room and picking him up. Frowning, she removed the elastic band encircling his body and the few pieces of cooled wax that had survived his most recent anal insertion. Next, she unraveled the length of thread around his wrist, the skin of his hand blanched and white.

Flexing his fingers in an attempt to coax some blood back into the cool extremities, “Please Natalya, be careful, it hurts,” he requested politely, his abraded burn reddened skin extremely sensitive.

Mumbling something in Russian under her breath, she gave him a hasty but thorough cleaning, employing a modicum of gentleness over the more obvious wounds on his flesh.

“That girl was a bitch,” Tom expressed through clenched teeth, enduring the process.

“It is not your place to say such things,” Natalya countered whilst drying his freshly washed skin.

“Not my place?” he snorted. “She put me in her bum, I mean that is after she swallowed me.”

“Shush, you need to be ready for your next appointment,” she counseled, carrying him back into the bedroom, placing him inside the aquarium before swapping out the bedding.

Sitting down cross-legged, Tom lowered his head. Next appointment? How long could he keep this up?