The relentless partying of Julie's downstairs neighbor puts her
scholarship at stake. Stressed and anxious she retaliates by putting them
through an ordeal of Gothic proportion with the help of Inge a visitor from
Denmark. - Bondage, female domination, 4 mind-blowing orgasms.

*****************
The E Kids! by Julie part of the Red Flame Series, Sumbitted by Bryce Denison, Copyright December 2007

It is 2:45 am on a Tuesday. I am cramming for an exam on Gothic
History, a component of my European history course. I am not a crammer, my
brain doesn't work that way. Helping Denise with her Psych Lab tore into
valuable study time on the weekend. So here I am stressed to the max,
jacked up on coffee and sleep deprived adrenaline. Hopelessness fills my
stomach with butterflies. Seven hours to go before the exam.

The noise from the E Kids downstairs sends sound shock waves from the
soles of my feet to my forehead. My desk, cluttered with papers, rattles
in time to the techno music blaring from Maxwell's 'killer' sound system.
Yeesh, the only thing killer about it is the brain cells that are
undoubtedly being vaporized by 160 decibels of throbbing base, that and all
the illicit drugs they use to go with it.

I return to the obscure article I am reading, "Punishment and its role
in early Gothic justice circa 170 BC - 450 AD." I try for the gazillionth
time to finish reading the first paragraph: . "About fifteen hundred years
before the fall of Rome, these Germans had begun to migrate southward from
the lands we now call Norway, Sweden and Denmark...."

Crash, Bang, Boom Zip

The psychedelic trance music scratches off. My downstairs neighbors,
the E Kids, so-called by Denise because of their late night raving,
electronic music, and Ecstasy that gives purpose to their lives have
finally, finally gone quiet. I sigh in relief, the risk of loosing my
scholarship grant somewhat abated, there is hope I won't crash and burn on
the exam after all!

Then, rising up from the air duct, the shrill voice of Emily, "You are
Danish? Get out of town girl so am I." Then something crashes to the
floor, it is the rubber ball they toss around the apartment for Biscuit,
Maxwell's Husky dog, and in my view the only sane being in their
three-person home.

A deep yet feminine voice, European in tone, pipes into my room through
the air vent, "I find that hard to believe." Then Emily's retort shrill and
somewhat aggressive in tone, "You can bet my black ass I am Danish. My
grandfather..."

Then Zip, Boom, WAaw, Maxwell's decks kicks into gear and my small study
room rattles and shakes again with the throb of his music electronica.

Ugh! My highlight pen bounces of the cover of my textbook marking the
flaming Gothic masks and spikes that illustrate its cover. I grab my red
hair and pull it hard. Despair fills me, my nervous state and hallow
energy make me inconsolable and I start to weep.

Why did I take this course? Why did I spend the entire weekend with
Denise? And why did I agree to the subletting the basement to the E kids!?

Taking a deep breath, and wiping my nose, I collect myself. Those
little shits are not going to jeopardize my scholarship grant. I need it
more than they need their electronica, drugs, and their upside down
lifestyle. I stand up and straighten myself. Picking up the heavy
textbook with its spooky illustration more to use as protection than for
anything else, I walk to the stairs, holding my head high.

Busting into their apartment, through the clutter of their hallway
toward their kitchen, which unfortunately is directly under my study room I
courageously enter.

"Would you two Schweinehundes Shut Up!" I bark. Evidently some of my
Germanic studies have sunk in.

They keep on talking, screaming at each other over the throb of
Maxwell's electronica. I see Emily's animated face as she undoubtedly
tries to persuade her guest of her Danish heritage. Her stem expression of
conviction is undermined by her glassy eyes and dilated pupils. Her
guest's back is to me. A tall woman with broad shoulders wearing a tight
fitting magenta blouse that has criss cross straps at the back, her
muscular torso straining them tight.

It is the colour of her straight shoulder length hair that is my first
indication that she is unique. It is platinum colour. Then looking more
closely at her exposed back I realize that the paleness of her skin colour
isn't due the fluorescent kitchen lights. Her skin is as pale as a copy
paper.

No matter, with adrenaline coursing through my veins I slam my Gothic
history textbook down on the kitchen counter beside them. BAM!

I yell, "Shut up!". My voice is shriller than Emily's.

Emily looks over her friend's shoulder as she turns to look at me. Now
that I have got it off my chest, I am not sure what else to say. I just
stare at them my head tilted forward a curl of red hair covering one of my
eyes. I look menacingly at Emily, then wide eyed at her friend. She is
not like any person I have seen before. Her face is broad with high
cheekbones, her skin is pales as can be, the only colour provided by small
freckles. It is her eyes that I find most intriguing. They are as pale,
cold and icy blue as Biscuit - Maxwell's Siberian husky dog.

Staring into her eyes and then at her straight shoulder length hair,
silvery white, cut in a perfect bob, I realize that this woman is not only
unique, a foreigner. She also possesses a presence I don't see often in
and around campus, or anywhere else for that matter.

Her face, her body, her stern demeanor immediately reminds me of
illustrations of the Gothic Valkyrie, handmaiden to Odin, that I had
reviewed only moments before in the safety of my bedroom. I stare at her
in wonder, breathing deeply losing my nerve with every breath. She
appraises me, looks me up and down then sets her Arctic eyes on mine, a
look that seems to extract hidden information, a piercing look. I hold her
gaze only momentarily then look behind her shoulder at Emily, whose mouth
is open wide. Her hands are on her hips, as she gives me a "what the hell
are you doing here?!" look.

I look back at this outlander saying nothing, breathing deeply, the
beats from Maxwell's sound system send vibrations through my feet and
chest. Her intense stare softens slightly. She says, "I am Inge." Then she
asks me, "what shall I do?".

I look back at Emily, a strange sense of power fills me. I say the
first thing that enters my mind, "restrain her!"

My simple words unleash Inge to action. She kicks Biscuit's rubber ball
against the side of the cupboard and catches it with ease. She opens a
drawer and pulls out a bunch of dishtowels, then opens another and pulls
out some duct tape. She moves quickly and with purpose. Unlike Emily she
is not high. My overwrought brain is having difficulties processing what
is going on. I am a spectator.

Inge turns, takes hold of Emily's shoulders, and spins her around.
Emily is obviously having the same difficulty processing this as I. Within
a matter of seconds Inge has tied Emily's wrists together behind her back.
She turns her around and Emily opens her mouth in protest. Inge responds
by placing the rubber dog ball in Emily's mouth. Holding it there with the
palm of her hand she grabs a dishtowel with the other and places it over
her mouth. Holding it there she turns to me. "Hand me the tape now."

I do as she says. She pulls off a strip with her teeth then places it
over Emily's gagged mouth and using the dishtowel as a barrier to her hair
and skin she wraps the duct tap around face and the back of her head a few
times. Inge then holds Emily's shoulders and guides her to the small
cloakroom. Placing a coat on the ground she pushes Emily down so that she
kneels on it. Emily still stunned does not resist as Inge completes my
command by tying her ankles together with a piece of climbing rope she
found hanging on a hook. She closes the cloakroom door and turns to me.

"The others?" She asks her dog like stare penetrating me to my core.

I pick up my textbook and walk down the hall toward the E Kid main lair
- their large living room where Maxwell has his deck and sound system set
up. Inge follows me. We stop at the door to survey the scene.

In one corner is Maxwell, skinny and tall. He is wearing large wrap
around sunglasses that make him look like a bug. He holds a large
headphone against one ear, his other hand is held high above his head,
fingers pointing he moves them to the beat of the music. Max smiles and
looks at Thomas who is dances in the middle of the room. Thomas is wearing
boxer shorts and work boots, nothing else. His body moves like its made of
rubber. He bends, stretches and rocks to the psychedelic electronica
peeling from the speakers. The only light provided by strobes, which make
his movements look creepy and puppet like.

Both Inge and I stand there in the hallway looking in. Max and Tom at
21 were only a few years younger than me. Nice guys for the most part,
cute, friendly. But after 10 pm they are total and utter pain in the ass.

Inge moved closer to me and tilts her head to talk into my ear. "May I
restrain them to?". Her voice was loud in my ear, her European accent
strong but easy to understand. I looked back at the E Kids. Partying away
at 3 am Tuesday morning, oblivious to my angst over the exam that was only
a few hours away. My scholarship at stake! My future in their hands. I
breathed in deeply. I cannot let these bozos control my fate.

Standing on my toes, my heart racing, I speak into Inge's ear, "Yes,
restrain them."

She approaches Tom from the back, places a hand on the top of his bare
shoulder and squeezes. His knees buckle like a rag doll and he collapses
to the floor on his knees. Now that I am noticed Maxwell laughs and waves
his hand at me. To him, his friend's 'manhandling' by Inge is a joke. He
laughs even harder when she starts tying Tom's wrists behind his back. The
music beats on, its tempo progressively more intense as Max spins his
disks.

She heaves Tom up and pushes him toward the sofa. He complies; I guess
he is in shock. Either that or his party drugs prevent him from
comprehending what is happening. Inge kneels down and picks up another one
of the Biscuit's rubber fetch balls and proceeds to gag him in the same
fashion as she did with Emily. Thomas now sits bound and gagged on the
couch.

Inge then turns her attention to Maxwell. She approaches him, stopping
only briefly to flick on the overhead lights. He opens his mouth in
protest, but she doesn't see him as she is pulling the power bar for his
sound system out of the wall socket. Finally the E Kids apartment is
silent.

"Hey hey hey, what the hell is going ON?!", Max shouts at Inge, "I was
just ramping things up here, it was gonna be KILLER."

Then he looks at me, "what's with you?" he asks. Apparently my
demeanour reveals the silent rage brewing within me.

Inge approaches Max and pulls a handful of patch chords from his sound
system, speaker wire and such. He moves to stop her. She grabs his wrist
and twists his arm. Max spins around like a puppet offering no resistance,
proof that all night partying is not conducive to building muscle strength.
Within a matter of seconds he is bound but not gagged.

"Hey, hey, hey, this isn't funny anymore," he protests as Inge pushes
him down on the sofa. Inge strokes his forehead gently and says "shh,
sshhhhh", calming him down. Maxwell complies, bound and seated beside Tom
on their large fake leather sofa. She goes back to the sound system,
rummages around quickly in a stack of CDs on a shelf above the vinyl,
patches in two headphones, plugs back the power bar and puts a CD in the
player. Inge then places headphones on each of the boys and returns to
crank up the volume.

The apartment is silent except for the tinny sounds emanating from their
headphones.

My heart races. I am sure what Inge has done, what I have done is
bordering on criminal. I look at Thomas seated on the sofa - ball gagged,
bare chested and bony kneed in his boxer shorts. Then at Maxwell, quiet
and likely in shock, staring straight ahead looking like a bug in his wrap
around green-mirrored shades. His tracksuit partially unzipped. Then my
eyes rest on Inge who stands in front of the sofa, her back turned to them
and facing me. Her facial expression calm and serene, betrays nothing of
the chaos of the last few minutes. Her cold eyes stare into mine.

"Where are you from?" I ask.

Looking at the textbook still in my hand. She replies, "I am from
Finland, north of Norway, land of the true Goth. But I live in Copenhagen,
Denmark."

"How did you get here?" I ask.

"By airplane." She smiles

"No I mean here in this apartment with the E Kids?"

"I met them only a few hours ago at the Club. Maxwell invited me back
so I could listen to some of his mixes. And you?"

"I live upstairs." I place a hand on my forehead and start rubbing it,
to help clear my mind. "I am under a lot of pressure." Holding up my book,
"there is an exam in a few hours, my scholarship...", my voice trails and
fades and I look back at Inge who is both bizarre and beautiful looking. I
hear a clicking sound coming down the hall; it is the sound of Biscuit's
nails on the hardwood. The Husky dog enters the room. She looks at us,
then at her owners on the sofa, and lies down on a cushion in the corner,
letting out a big sigh, obviously in relief that the noise has abated. I
look back at Inge, "my name is Julie. What are we going to do?"

She looks into my eyes for a long while, and then smiles, "for the
Goths, matters of guilt and innocence were decided by the body."

"Don't hurt them," I stammer.

"No? I felt your rage when you walked into the kitchen." Inge says. I
notice that she is breathing rapidly as if from exercise. I am scared.

"Yes but I don't want to go to jail." Indeed twenty minutes before in
the safety of my room I had imagined grinding Maxwell's face into his
turntable and pulling Emily's hair from her scalp. Now that the music has
stopped, and in the presence of this spooky woman I just want to return to
my books.

I place my hand on my neck, to touch the small cross that hangs from my
gold chain necklace. Something I do when I feel insecure or threatened.
It gives me comfort. It is not there! My heart starts to beat faster. I
had taken it off and placed it by my lamp while studying.

She continues, "When the Goths ruled Europe an individual suspected of
murder would swear an oath during which a momentary cough or hesitation
would condemn him. Or he would be put to an ordeal of hot iron, hot water
or cold water. The accused would grasped a red hot piece of metal in his
hand and release it. His hands were bandaged. Three days later the
bandages were removed if the burns were found to be healing without
infection he was innocent. Or his arm was put into a cauldron of boiling
water, it was then bandaged. If it was healing three days later he was
innocent..."

My heart thumps in my chest, my eardrums start ringing. Am I having a
heart attach? "No please don't!" I plead.

"Don't what?" She says tilting her head forward. Her exotic face,
angelic looking only moments before now looks demonic.

Inge turns to face the boys and kneels down in front of them. I watch
her muscular back as she raises her arms, places a hand on Maxwell's and
Thomas' crotch and begins to rub, rather quickly. They both react
immediately by raising their hips. They don't seem to be protesting. As
she massages their privates through their clothes, she turns her head to
me.

"or they tied your hand and feet and threw you into a river. If you
sank you were innocent if you floated you were guilty."

She then turns back to the boys. One hand slips into the fly of Tom's
boxers, the other works on Max's zipper. In a few second I see the
pinkness of their cock only as a blur through Inge's rapidly stroking
hands.

She looks back at me again as she gives them their hand job, finishing
her lesson on Gothic justice. "For the Goth water was a divinity and it
would not receive one who was guilty."

She turns back to the boys and holds Tom's cock straight up. I am
surprised at how long and fat his cock is, considering the rest of his
skinny frame. I am even more surprised when I see his big dick being
swallowed whole by my Gothic instructor.

My heart begins to race but for a different reason. I stare in wonder
as Inge begins to suck both their cocks alternating between the two boys,
giving their knobs a work over either by hand or by mouth depending on whom
her oral attention lay. Not sure what to do or say, I watch. I am not use
to seeing real hard cocks. I am embarrass to admit that in fact I have
never touched one, though as you know from reading about me, I have been
graving to touch a man. My urge exacerbated from all the time I have spent
lately with my filthy minded friend Denise.

Inge's muscular ass is resting on her heels as she works their dicks.
So many emotions are welling within me. The stress of my pending exam
eases and the tension from the confrontation ebbs. It is replaced by a
mixture of fear and ...well with all the slurping and sucking sounds from
Inge's almost out of control cock sucking, horniness. I look at Tom's bare
chest. He is looking flushed, the ball gag in his mouth looks positively
ridiculous but he seems oblivious to it. As for Maxwell his green-mirrored
shades and his stupid grin make him look ridiculous as well. It is obvious
they are enjoying the experience.

I am mesmerized by the scene before me. Tom's cock is huge, Max's is
small in juxtaposition. Even so Inge's strong hands are small in
comparison to both. She rises up off her heels and bobs her head up and
down on Tom. My God! She is sucking him off like crazy, while never
missing a beat on Max's hand job. She is pressing and rubbing his flared
head with her thumb and fingers each time she comes up from her stroke.

I become conscious of my own body now. I am subtly rocking my hips as I
stand there. I feel warm and...

"Why are we doing this?" I ask in a hoarse voice breaking my spell.

Inge's mouth is stuffed full of Max's cock. She can take it completely
in her mouth. I have heard all about deep throating from Denise. But I
have never seen it in the flesh. Inge pulls her mouth off him and turns
back to look at me. A fat ribbon of saliva drools from her mouth, making
her lips all shiny, strands of her throat spit still connect to his juicy
cock. She smiles widely. Then turns back to the boys. My God! This time
she place her open mouth around Tom's big throbbing penis and wham! Her
face, her mouth goes down hard, completely engulfing him into her mouth
into her....throat! I can see her neck expand as she accommodates him!

Standing there watching with my Goth textbook still in my hand, my hips
rock like I am spinning a hoola-hoop. It is an uncontrollable reflex to
what I am now feeling between my legs.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask again. Inge head is bobbing up and down
on Max now, whose facial expression is now slack and open mouthed,
headphones still on his head, volume ramped full bore. She raises her
mouth, releasing his cock with suction like sound and turns back to me, her
lips and face shiny and slick as I described before.

"As I said for the Goth guilt and innocence were determined by the body.
Now, it is us, you and I, who are guilty, and only by getting them off will
we be absolved."

"Huh?" I stop rocking my hips.

"I don't want to be deported, and you don't want to go to jail for
assault and confinement. For now your history lesson is over. We must be
practical. I am staying in control of the situation by sucking them off.
It is our only chance of preventing them from having us arrested. We must
give them pleasure so they will forgive us for what we have done"

"We have done?!" I say, "I haven't done..."

She interrupts. "I was merely following your orders....Julie." Her
hands keep working their cocks, stroking, kneading and rubbing them in a
fantastically rapid, wet, motion. "Ugh! All their drinking and party
drugs will make it difficult for their release."

"What about Emily?" I stammer. Having just remembered her
incarceration.

"Do not worry she, as well as these boys, will be thanking us by dawn."

Tom turns his face upward to the ceiling as if in ecstasy, Max's
response to the stimulus remains slack jawed and drooling. The tinny sound
of his music mix a small background din to the stroking of their dicks.

"What is that over there," Inge directs her chin to a metal platform
with railings propped up against the wall at the other side of the large
living room. It looks like a set of parallel bars from a gymnasium, but it
isn't. Though I have never seen it before I had certainly heard it. Tom
is a window washer by trade and I hear him drag his gear and that scaffold
in and out their basement suite a few times per week, another annoying
attribute of the E Kids.

"It is Tom's window washing platform," I say looking at the metal
railings and rope that hangs from them.

Inge returns to slurping on their cocks for a few moments then asks me
to take over.

Wide eyed I stare at her and her cock clutching hands. My mind reels. I
have never touched a man before. Yes I am 24, yes I am attractive, yes I
have many guy friends and socialise with Denise one of the biggest sluts on
campus. But due to my beliefs, due to the small cross that normally hangs
from my gold chain necklace, and despite the teasing of Denise, I have
never actually touched a penis, let alone two rock hard ones.

"I can't," I say.

"You must," Inge says, "I need to get Emily from the cloak room and
bring her here." She stops her man handling.

Maxwell says "Hey!" and Tom well he simply moans through his ball gag in
protest.

"You realize that our future lies in their orgasm. You must." she says
loud and emphatically, to impress how important it is.

Confused at first by what she says. I process what she means. I
understand our situation. Inge and I are now technically rapists. If the
E Kids' nightmare turns into their dream come true, I am certain they won't
press any charges. I begin to tremble. My knees feel weak.

She resumes stroking their cocks. "Come." She says motioning me with a
tilt of her head to approach the couch. "Here, take a cushion, kneel down
here beside me."

I do as she says shaking, so nervous now, so nervous about actually
touching a man's cock. Never in a million years would I have imagined my
first experience with a living piece of manhood would be attached to one of
the E Kids. As I kneel beside Inge, she releases her grip on the penises.
The only way I can make it through this is if I disassociate the cocks from
the men. I breathe in deeply and reach for the straining rods of flesh.
Inge leaves the room.

Tom and Max are making rapid humping motions. My hands just millimetres
away...I feel sick...I slowly wrap my hands around, for lack of a better
word, their boners. Ugh! I pull away gagging. I am so nervous. It is
not just the situation. I am embarrassed to admit that I am nervous about
touching a real man, a real cock. If I clear my mind, from who they are, I
am just plain nervous and excited and, my God, so incredibly HORNY!

Their cocks feel so warm, almost hot, much warmer than I had ever
imagined The detailed conversations about sex that I have been having with
Denise (read for example 'Talking to Denise in Her SUV') proved very handy.
I felt that I had stepped into one of our shared fantasies and like a
student who has over prepared; I am determined to ace this exam. My smooth
hands slid up and down their shafts and I began to understand for the first
time the true meaning of pre-cum. Clear fluid wells up from their balls
and seeps onto my hands with each upstroke. I squeeze and thumb their
cockheads massaging my sticky fingers into their swollen pinkness. Their
pre-cum keeps flowing out making my hands wet and well lubed.

I can't look them in the face, I don't want to accept who the cocks
belong to and know if I look up and see their goofy facial expressions, my
incentive to continue the task would wither. So as I wait for Inge to
return I keep up with my hand jobs, half of me wanting the boys to cum
right away so I could be done with it, the other half wanting Inge to be in
the room so she can see the end result of my work. Who knows? I may
impress her.

After what seemed like a very long time I hear footsteps approaching the
room. Looking up, still masturbating Tom and Max, I am shocked but not
surprised to see Inge leading a fully nude Emily into the room. Still
bound at the wrists, arms behind her back and ball gagged, Inge guides her
to stand beside me.

Emily's passion is rock climbing. Her muscle tone gives her body a
beautiful shape. Fit and feline in appearance her physique was statuesque
yet her size is petite. She looks small standing there beside the
domineering Inge. The humming noise she is making through her ball gag is
hard to interpret. She must be completely floored by what she sees and
obviously does not know what to make of it.

I look behind her at Inge who is now rummaging around the window-washing
platform. A coil of rope hangs around her right shoulder, either rock
climbing or window washing rope I am not sure. There is a crashing then
scraping sound of metal and wood as she drags the platform with its metal
railing out from the side of the room to the middle. It is a metal-framed
wooden platform six feet long, two feet wide with hand bars along both
sides. Something you would see hanging from the side of a skyscraper while
the windows are being washed.

Inge does not even look at me. I keep jacking them off and Emily just
stares at my hands. She is black, beautiful and soon to be bound. No
doubt Inge intends to tie her to the scaffolding. The energy in the room,
no longer electronica, is electric. Given the situation you would imagine
the vibe is aggressive and intimidating but none of us seem to feel that
way now. Who knows, maybe we were actually playing out some deep fantasy
of the E Kids? As they are totally resigned or are at least amenable to
their fate.

I look back at the boys, jacking their cocks, my mouth open and smiling
as I fully accept my task and this situation. Through giving them pleasure
I feel I have all my power back. After all it is their rock hard stiff
pricks that are in my hands and at my mercy. I hear Inge working behind
me, then some moaning, and some rattling of the metal rails. I turn around
and I am floored by what I see.

Emily's body is laid out horizontally, prone, four feet off the ground.
Each leg and arm is draped over a handrail. Her ankles and wrists tied to
them, so that her body is supported lengthwise by the two rails; her legs
spread between them. Her face looks down at the floor and her large breast
dangle downward. When she lifts her head, crude as this sound with the
ball gag she reminds me of a suckling pig, splayed and laid out on a table.

Inge takes an Ipod out of her purse and puts the earphones on Emily.
"She can listen to one of my favourite mixes while she experiences a realm
of sexual pleasure hitherto unknown to her." Inge says smiling at me. She
adjust the volume upward, "this music is best listened to on 10." I now
here some music beats emanating from Emily's ears.

Inge walks over to a box on the DJ table and rummages around. She picks
out two small clips. "In Denmark roach clips are a thing of the past.
However here and now they will serve a higher purpose. I watch as she
massages Emily's breast, then tweaks her copper brown nipples and applies
the metal roach clips each of them. Emily struggles and strains, as she
adjusts herself to the pinching sensation of the nipple clips.

"So how are the hand jobs coming along?" Inge asks. I keep up my
stroking. "As I said their party drugs make it difficult to achieve
orgasm. Look at the size of Tom's cock, such a large penis for such a
skinny man." Then she looks at his hairless chest, "or should I say boy?"

Inge stands near Maxwell looking down as I press and rub his cock head
between my fingers, giving my wrist a break from jacking. A large quantity
of precum oozes and flows from his pee hole. "That is one juicy penis
hmm?" Inge continues her commentary.

Despite the newness of the whole experience, that of touching a man, or
in this case men, I grow tired of my ministrations to my undeserving
neighbours. Plus I am dying to watch a man blow his load for real, in the
flesh. It occurs to me that my special talent, my dirty talking talent, is
what is needed. My conversations with Denise down by the lake, in her SUV,
during lecture and at the Psych Lab (see Red Flame series for background on
Julie's talent) have always cum through for me. I have an idea. I release
my grips, stand and stretch.

"Inge can you patch in a microphone? I would like to say a few words to
Tom and Max." She does so, checks the volume, maintaining it at near 10.
She then hands me Max's DJ mic. I take it and sit down beside Tom. The
boys are moaning and humping their legs in protest to my cease and desist
on their dicks.

Inge goes back to Emily and starts caressing her naked body starting
with her calves and working her way up her legs, to her perfect muscular
bubble butt, and then on to her lower back. Holding the mic in both hands,
finally liberated from the unbearable hand jobs, I speak, my young womanly
voice no doubt amplified to heart thumping intensity into the E Kids' ears.
Hopefully with some reverb.

"Look at your room mate Emily, black, beautiful and strong. When she
asked you to move in with her you both jumped at the chance. Though you
say she is just a 'friend' we know you harbour strong desires for her.
Think of how many times you have thought about her naked and wet. How you
have dreamed she would give herself to you and what you would do if she
did.

"Every time she walks out of the room you stare at her ass, and when she
watches TV in your living room you secretly glance at her tits, imagining
how they would feel in your hands or mouth. There is no doubt you want to
fuck her, and we all know how amazing it would feel to sink into her,
spreading her tight pink slit, opening her up, going in deep, turning her
pussy into a wet juicy cunt. The whole while your hands grip her perfect
ass spreading and kneading her firm smooth cheeks. The feel of her soft
asshole kissing your lower tummy each time you drive your hard cocks into
her, how sweet, how intimate would that be?"

I look over at Maxwell and Tom sitting beside me. Their cocks are so
hard I can see their strain just by looking at the colour, the veins, the
ridges of their cockheads. Tom is positively purple. Max's is throbbing
as if it was the woofer in his souped up car. I continue with my spoken
word, "Look at Inge now, kneeling on the cushion her face just centimetres
from Emily's glorious pussy. See how her tongue starts to lap her slit.
Starting at her clit, licking and probing all the way up to her ass and
back down. See her hands on Emily's ass. Look at the contrast of their
skin. Inge's skin is so pale it is practically translucent. Emily's skin
is black and smooth as Persian silk. She is so tasty we know it, proof is
in the way Inge devours hers."

I was becoming incredibly aroused. Inge was not merely eating Emily's
pussy from behind; it appeared she was trying to stuff her face into the
gorgeous but annoying E Kid's twat. Emily draped over the handrails and
tied down, was not struggling. Her hips were writhing, if not to the beat
of the Ipod, to the movements of Inge's face and tongue.

"Look how Emily enjoys it. Blindfolded and ball gagged she doesn't even
now who is doing it to her. It could be you, me, Inge. Who knows? I
guess we do. But she doesn't. Even so her hips are humping, straining
against the ropes as she attempts to draw whoever it is that is licking and
fingering her closer."

Inge stands up tall now and takes off her tight fitting magenta top,
freeing her breast for all to see. I continue my commentary, eyes riveted
on her, clasping the mic with both hands. "Inge may be a Finn from Denmark
but her tits are pure Dutch. See how firm they are? Their shape is so
very pert, upturned like Dutch clogs. And her nipples - large and rosy
pink."

Indeed Inge's tits are incredible and the way her nipples stick straight
out there is no doubt they are as stiff and hard as the boy's cocks.
Clearly she is aroused; aroused as we all are. Inge stands between Emily's
spread legs, looking down at her ass; she places one hand on Emily's pubic
mound and starts rubbing her clit. With her other hand she begins to touch
and probe her pinkness. Then she turns her head and looks up at us, lined
up and seated on the sofa. Smiling she inserts three fingers into Emily
and begins to slowly finger fuck her. I hear Emily moan through her gag.
Holding the microphone my hands begin to shake.

"Look at Inge sink her fingers deep into your roommates cunt. See how
she fucks her? Slowly at first and now a little faster, a little more
forcefully." My voice cracks. I am having a difficult time continuing with
my play by play. Inge is positively hammering Emily with her rigid
fingers. One strong arm bent at the elbow, with fingers rigid as steel
going in and out, the whole while she relentlessly rubs and massages
Emily's clit with her other hand. It is a finger fucking worthy of the
ancient Goth.

"Emily's pussy is so warm and wet. Tight and firm as her petite body,
see how Inge is loosening her up?" The wet sopping sounds of intense
fingering can be heard in the room. I can hear it. Inge can hear it. But
the E Kids, with their headphones on, are oblivious to this horny sound. A
sound much more intense than any electronic beat that pounds their
eardrums.

"Inge is loosening Emily's pussy for you Max and Tom. Finally after a
year of dreaming about Emily's sweet cunt and sexy ass, here is your chance
to sink in to her, and fuck her deep, long and hard."

Then I hear a cry beside me. Max who is not gagged but whose wrists are
still bound lets out a yelp, such a strange sound. Looking at his crotch,
I see why. His stiff throbbing cock is erupting, spewing ejaculate three
feet in the air. Ribbons of his white creamy sperm fall onto his stomach,
neck, chin...and now face! I have never seen a man cum before, I mean in
the flesh, let alone give himself a facial. Wow! He is breathing deeply.
Despite his wrap around mirrored sunglasses I can tell he looks
disappointed.

Inge watches his spontaneous orgasm as well. When the spurting stops
she looks at Tom, his massive cock standing at full attention through the
fly of his boxer shorts. "You, come here." She says, slapping Emily's ass,
her voice deep and exotic sounding. Tom stands and walks over to his
window-washing platform. Inge steps out of the way and guides him between
Emily's splayed legs.

"You will need your hands for this." Inge unties his wrists. His hands
now liberated Tom grips the railings like a gymnast holding on to the
parallel bars.

I stare wide-eyed. Though Emily is strong, she is petite. Inge pulls
his boxers down to the ankle of big work boots. Tom's cock is bigger than
anything I had heard Denise talk about before. Inge takes his penis in her
hands and pulls him toward Emily's waiting pussy. Though her senses are
deprived due to her earphones blaring psychedelic trance music, her blind
fold and ball gag, she feels that more pleasure is close at hand, and
wiggles her ass; even before the fat plum sized head of Tom's cock touches
her waiting slit.

Inge positions him right at her opening. For some reason he hesitates.
Maybe because his long held dream is on the cusp of reality. Inge places
both hands on his lower back, his skinny frame a contrast to her physical
strength and power. Holding on to his hips, she drives Tom home.

Indeed she has loosened Emily up as Tom's ten-inch cock sinks to the
hilt in one quick motion. Emily's cheeks bulge around her ball gag when
she exhales. Her breathing is deep and measured as she adjusts to the
thick stick of flesh being driven inside her, completely opening her up.
The microphone drops from my hand onto my lap. Sitting beside Max on the
sofa I watch, we all watch mesmerized by the fucking before us. My exam
stress, anger at the E Kids, and worry over Inge and my assault on them,
forgotten, evaporated by the strong feeling of arousal that have consumed
my psyche and my body. My own little quim is flowing like a river, soaking
my panties clear through.

Tom holds the railings tightly as his hips rock back and forth. His
cock slides in and out of his roommate. He is not merely fucking her. He
is literally hammering her cunt now with wild abandon. Like Emily his
cheeks bulge around his ball gag as he breathes. The intensity of his
muffled moaning a guttural sound that if unhindered would be a bellow. He
fucks her hard; he fucks her deep. Both he and Emily are listening to
electronica from different sources, different music but the way their
bodies meld together it appears they are experiencing the same beat.

"That is right, fuck her, fuck her, fuck that little bitch hard and
good." Inge's speaks; her Scandinavian accent is well suited to these
filthy words she says out loud for her and my benefit.

I can't control my urge any longer. I place my hand in my pants my
fingers slide deep into my wet pussy, the base of my thumb presses into my
stiff clit. I am so wound tight I need release badly. The live fuck show
in front of me combined with my frantic masturbation is pushing me to the
edge. Inge looks at me as I rub my muff and smiles.

"It looks so fucking good doesn't it?" She holds Tom's ass and pushes
him into Emily, from the way her arm muscles flex I can see she is pushing
him hard, and Emily receives him completely. The straps of her bondage
straining, cutting into her flesh, the force of his thrust must be extreme.

Moisture begins to drip from between Emily's legs. Tom has cum already?
No it is clear and flowing, it is the juice of her arousal. It drips then
trickles from her cunt, more and more wetness flows from Emily with each
stroke of Tom's pussy-stretching cock. From the puddle that has formed in
the gusset of my panties from my own masturbation I can understand why she
would be producing so much more. Ten minutes before my own hands were
wrapped around that cock. The feel of it is still in the muscle memory of
my hand. It was so fat, long and hard. He must be stretching her to the
max, pushing himself deep inside her, right into her womb! I pray Emily is
on the pill, but without my gold cross necklace, I am not sure my prayers
will be answered.

"His party drugs are making it hard for him to achieve orgasm. Perhaps
there will be enough cock left for you and me to enjoy." Inge says, raising
her eyebrow, as she looks me in the eyes.

I keep finger fucking myself my mind reeling. As tempting as that huge
piece of manhood is, Tom will not be the first to break my cherry. But as
I watch Emily's fucking I imagine it is I who is tied to the bars. The
window-washing platform reminds me of the parallel bars from my high school
gymnastic class. It would feel so good to be screwed that way, legs over
the bars, a man driving his cock deep and hard into me, opening me up,
rubbing me in the most intimate of ways, as his large balls slap into my
ass.

It appears that Inge spoke to soon. Tom whole body is completely
flushed, his shoulders practically glowing red. Emily's body is bathed in
sweat, sweat that drips and flies from her each time she takes her
roommates thrusts. Tom takes his hands from the bars and takes hold of her
ass, with one powerfully thrust he drives into her completely. His breath,
the strain of his muscles, the way he pushes himself so deep within her, it
is clear that his release is imminent.

Both Emily and Tom groan. Tom's ball sac tightens, no longer loose and
slapping her ass, his large balls full of sperm are ready to blow. Tom
keeps stroking as he erupts into Emily. I can tell since the quantity of
liquid dripping from her cunt can't be the product of one person. It is
not possible. The sound of his ejaculation juicy and wet as he pumps her,
pumps her, pumps her full of cum! The whole while Inge rubs Emily clit in
quick circular motions helping to ensure that Tom's and her orgasm meet.
Inge succeeds. As a woman I can tell that Emily's physical reaction is
rooted in her own deep throbbing orgasm.

With the E Kids cumming before me, with the exotic and mysterious Inge
coaxing them along, and the faint smell of Max's voluminous sperm beside
me, I achieve my own release. An orgasm as intense as no other I have
experienced before. I cry and moan with wild abandon, completely
uninhibited sine the E Kids can not hear me, as they sport earphones
patched into the sound system and Ipod volumes on 10. As I come, Inge
watches me her hands caressing her gorgeous breasts, fingers pinching and
kneading her nipples.

"Well done Julie, well done," she says.

An hour later Inge is in my room, sitting beside me, my Gothic history
notes, and textbook spread out on my desk, pen and note pad in my hands, a
huge mug of coffee steaming among the clutter. She summarizes key points
in the history of her ancestors. My gold chain necklace and cross safely
back around my neck, I say a silent prayer of thanks for our meeting. Inge
as it turns out, is on leave from the university where she is a lecturer in
Gothic and pre-Gothic history. Her knowledge and presence has given me the
confidence to ace the exam. My scholarship is not at stake after all.

Meanwhile the E Kids downstairs, untied and unbound have crashed out on
a futon. Emily lies between her roommates. Max's arms around her ankles,
Tom's arms around her neck, they sleep at last with smiles on their faces,
with Biscuit the Husky curled up and dreaming by their feet. Their
apartment is still and quiet with the dawn.

Comments? email my_time259@yahoo.ca

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