Flesh and Bone Read online

  Maria stood over her.

  “You are ready for this, Camille.”

  Camille said nothing; she kept looking back at the crucifix.

  “Look at me,” Maria said. “Camille, look at me.”

  Camille did so and she found her eyes sincere.

  “This is not about that. This is about you. And me. And Anna.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Maria waited for Anna to return. When she did, they embraced and both of them looked at her.

  “This is for you. We are here for you.”

  Camille didn’t know what to say.

  “Are you not attracted to us?” Maria asked.

  Camille straightened. “Yes.”

  “Then forget the rest. Nothing else matters. All that matters is you and us and this room. Right now.”

  Maria held out her hand. Hesitantly, Camille took it and stood.

  “Are you ready to let go?”

  Camille burned with desire and burned with resentment for the past. She hated the way she felt, the way she’d felt for so long.

  “Yes,” she said before she dared change her mind.

  “Do you trust me?” Maria asked. “I will not hurt you, Camille.”

  Camille swallowed, nodded, and said, “Yes.”

  Her heart tripled in rhythm.

  “Good, now relax. I am going to mend you, body and soul. If at any time you want me to stop, say ‘stop.’ Any other word I will ignore.”

  “Okay,” Camille breathed.

  Maria turned to Anna and kissed her. It was a long, slow, deep kiss, one that showed slips of tongue almost right away. Camille watched in amazement as they kissed and sucked and thrust and kissed some more. Hungry tongues and ravenous lips, tugging, pulling, parting, and taking. Anna clung to Maria, arms around her neck. Maria lifted her by the buttocks, holding her firmly. Anna moaned, deeply but surrendering. She was ready, and suddenly Camille understood what that meant. Anna was ready, ready to let Maria take her. She could wait no longer, could take no more.

  They parted and Anna was breathless. Maria held her with one arm and Anna gazed at her with beckoning surrender.

  “Please,” she was saying without speaking. “Take me.”

  Camille felt like a voyeur, but she was so turned on she couldn’t bear to tear her eyes away. Maria looked at her, as if feeling the heat of her stare. She released Anna and took a step closer to Camille.

  “Did you like that?” she asked.

  Camille couldn’t speak. Anna approached her as well. Maria’s fingers tickled her arm. She leaned in and whispered, “I know you liked that.” And her tongue snaked out to caress her ear.

  Chill bumps shot all over Camille’s body. Her nipples gathered painfully and pointed upward, pleading to be touched. Their call was answered when Anna dipped her head and took the right one in her mouth. A hiss escaped Camille as the hot wet mouth closed over her and sucked, wet, slick tongue not far behind. It swirled along her bunched areola and flicked at her thick nipple. Without thinking, Camille’s hand found the back of Anna’s head where it clutched her ponytail and held her head in place.

  Maria moved in further, kissing her mouth, her tongue swirling in the same motion as Anna’s. Her left hand traced up and down Camille’s hungry midsection, as if waiting for a dare to go lower. Up and down it went, winding Camille up with lust and desire.

  Insanity almost overtook her as Anna briefly pulled away to lightly press her lips to Camille’s cheek and neck. Maria pulled back as well and stared seriously into her eyes.

  “It is time,” she said.

  Sparks and tingles danced beneath the skin of Camille’s lips. Her breast felt tight and alive, craving the air, the flickering of the candles, anything and everything that could possibly touch it.

  Anna took her hand and Camille noticed the new dullness of the lipstick. It made her lips look fuller and swollen, and there were traces of the red on Maria’s lips and no doubt now on her own as well. The notion aroused her as if it were blood and they were three vampires feeding off one another.

  She followed Anna slowly to the crucifix. The beating of her heart no longer alarmed her. Its quick rhythm was part of her now, a part of this. Whatever this was.

  Anna guided her backward, pressing against the crucifix. It felt cool against her skin, and when her arms were spread outward she could tell it was covered in some sort of leather-like material. Fear, anxiousness, and excitement coursed through her as Anna tightened the cuffs along her wrists. More of it came when Anna stepped up and wrapped a satin blindfold around her head. She gave Camille a soft kiss just before she secured it over her eyes.

  “Is okay,” she said again.

  Camille stood quivering inwardly. Her pulse raced along with her mind. But her body remained calm, limbs strong and sturdy, sex wet and needing. She breathed deeply and strained to hear.

  She felt Anna nudge her legs apart and tighten the cuffs along her ankles. Then she heard Maria speak from a few feet in front of her.

  “I want you to feel,” she said. “I do not want you to see or to think. I want you to feel.”

  She heard more movement and then felt a tickle along her inner calf. Instinct told her to move her leg, but she couldn’t. The tickle moved upward and then she felt another along her other leg.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Shh.”

  Camille clamped her mouth shut and the tickling spread to her inner thighs, causing more chill bumps to rise. The more the tickle touched her, the more familiar it seemed. And when it went up her body, circled her breasts, and touched her face, she knew it was a feather. Two feathers. Two very large feathers. But knowing what it was did nothing to quell the sensation. The feather continued on, tickling and stroking, along her arms to her fingertips and back up to her neck. Back down to her chest, around her breasts and down her stomach. At her pubis both feathers teased, mingling with her hair briefly before going around and down to her thighs once more.

  It continued like this several more times until her body was straining for more touch. A light sweat had started along her brow, and she bit her lower lip in an effort for control.

  “Do you want more?” Maria asked.

  “Yes,” she said quickly, the word tumbling out. At once, the feathers started again, this time rounding her breasts in a circling pattern, coming closer and closer to her nipples. Her muscles tightened and she thrust her chest forward. The feathers finally reached her and a soft cry came out of her and a shot of liquid-hot pleasure flooded between her legs. Over and around the feathers went, teasing and touching her exposed nipples. The lightest of caresses, of flickers, of strokes. Like the purposeful breath of Aphrodite upon the hungriest of skin.

  She strained further, needing more, and the feathers went lower. They reached her sex and circled again, coming closer and closer. When they reached her they stroked her up and down, ever so lightly touching her bare flesh. The sensation caused her to tug harder in a spasm. Strange noises came from her throat.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please.” She tried to spread herself open further, but she could not.

  “Are you wanting more?” Maria asked.

  She forced herself to swallow. “Yes. God, yes. Please.”

  There was silence and the feathering stopped. Her thudding pulse muffled any sound and then suddenly she felt fingers between her legs. Her back straightened and her head pressed back against the support. The fingers opened her and then she felt the feathers once again. Brushing over her, painting her flesh, driving her mad with want. She cried out, her voice rough and weak. Over and over her they went. One lightly caressing, the other pressing against her, painting her with her own arousal.

  Then one feather rose back to her breasts, where it circled and circled again. Her hands fisted and her toes curled and Maria spoke softly to her.

  “That is good, Camille. You are feeling now. Let yourself go.”

  Camille panted, clenched her eyes despite the blindfo
ld. Her clit felt huge and hungry and she could imagine the tip of it reaching out for the feather. The touching wasn’t near enough and she knew it wasn’t meant to be. She tried to relax and ignore it, but it was impossible. She tried to relax and tolerate it, but that was equally impossible. Her body was a live wire, stripped and exposed. And the feather meant to tease.

  Just at the moment when she was ready to scream and shake her head in an agony bordering on ecstasy, the fingers were gone along with the feather. A shudder overcame her, one of spent and still coiled energy. She could feel the cool sweat on her brow seeping into her hairline. Her own breathing sounded loud, adding a new instrument to the band consisting only of her drumming heart.

  Nearby, she managed to hear what she thought were whispers. She strained to hear them, tugging on her cuffs and turning her head to the side. Movement stirred before her and she smelled Maria before she felt her.

  “You ready for more?” Maria asked, leaning into Camille’s ear and flicking the lobe with her tongue.

  Camille nodded, unable to find her voice.

  Fingers once again slipped inside her folds to explore. They did so expertly, gliding along the sides of her clit before barely dipping inside her hole.

  “Yes, I’d say you’re ready.”

  Maria kissed her roughly, tugging on her lips as her fingers squeezed together and tugged on her clit.

  Camille groaned in that sweet agony once again and then Maria was gone. Camille blinked behind the blindfold, turning her head, listening.

  More movement came before her and she felt a small pocket of heat close to her breast. She could feel Anna next to her, her breathing hitting Camille’s upper shoulder. Then she felt what could only be Maria in front of her, kneeling down to her thighs. She felt hot breath on her inner thighs and then she felt a hot, slick tongue tracing upward.

  She tensed and moaned and then she heard Maria say, “Do it.”

  A white-hot burning erupted down the middle of her chest, slamming her head back, opening her mouth, and just before she could scream, it was gone, numbed into a warmth so soft she couldn’t describe it.

  “What—what was that?” she panted.

  “It is you feeling,” Maria said. “Like this.” Her fingers spread Camille open.

  Camille felt the tongue again, this time circling her clit. Just like the feather it went. Around and around, closer and closer.

  And then Maria licked her dead-on. Hot, heavy tongue pressing and licking. Camille bucked despite the restraints. And then Maria stopped and said, “Again.”

  Camille braced herself and another hot, searing burn pierced her right breast. She cried out and then relaxed as the burn ceased and once again warmed and enveloped. The tongue followed suit, this time licking her dead-on right away.

  “Oh fuck,” Camille rasped as it pressed and licked and lapped and teased. “Oh fuck,” she said again.

  “Again,” Maria called out, stopping only for a split second.

  Camille braced herself, but she did not flinch. In fact, she found herself shoving her chest outward, eager. The burning came, this time on her left breast, and she cried out in ecstasy rather than pain. Maria kept licking, up and down and then side to side. She stopped only long enough to ask her if she liked it.

  “Yes,” Camille said. “Yes.”

  Maria rose then and kissed her full on, forcing her to taste herself. Then she shoved her fingers inside her and bit her neck. When she pulled back she said, “Yes, you do like it. But I think you need more.”

  The burning came again, this time all over her upper chest. The flames went down toward her midsection and then cooled within seconds. Maria’s fingers plunged inward and upward as she demanded, “Again.”

  More fierce burning, this time down her belly. But she no longer cared. No longer felt the pain in a negative way. Instead she welcomed it and welcomed Maria.

  “Let it go, Camille. And invite the pleasure.”

  “I am,” she rasped.

  “Are you?” The burning came again, on top of the encasing warmth.

  “Yes—yes, I am.” And she was. There was nothing in her mind but the present.

  “Good,” Maria purred. “You are very wet,” she whispered. “But not wet enough.”

  She drew her fingers out slowly. Camille wanted to protest but fought against it. She felt Anna leave her side, along with Maria. When someone came back, she began picking at the warmth on her chest. Peeling it off carefully.

  “What is that?” Camille asked.

  “Wax,” Anna said.

  Camille strained like a giant exposed nerve as Anna cleaned the wax off her skin. With the warmth of the wax gone, her nipples contracted again and her body felt the cool air breathing against it.

  Anna said nothing further as she finished and moved away. When she returned Camille could hear her squirting something from a bottle. Warm hands began spreading something slick along her body. Camille remembered the oil on the bureau and closed her eyes as Anna rubbed it all over her. When she reached her breasts she circled and then went over them lightly, squeezing the nipples between two fingers. Camille hissed and bucked her hips. Anna went lower, massaging the oil into her legs, down to her feet and between her toes. Then she rose and oiled her arms all the way to the fingertips. When she finished, she backed away and Camille stood pulsing in the silence.

  Someone approached and she tensed, waiting.

  And then it happened. Something hot spattered across her chest and stung. For an instant she thought Anna had returned and was once again throwing hot wax on her. But this sensation was different. It left her immediately and then burned again. There was a noise as well. A sort of whipping. And suddenly she remembered the flogger.

  It came across her again, whipping her breasts. She made a noise of pain and once again found herself pushing her chest outward, hungry for more. That bittersweet agony came again and again. Snapping across her skin, pecking her nipples, slapping her areolas. Her noises grew stronger, louder. Begging then demanding.

  More lashes came, and she imagined her skin brimming with redness, the blood seeking beneath and relishing under each strip of leather. The beat of her heart became the beating of her skin. Alive and wanting and needing.

  She clenched her teeth as the switches went lower. She growled when they whipped across her sex. She flinched with every blow, small peeks of her flesh getting bitten by the straps. It was like flicking a terrible itch with your fingernail and then pulling away.

  Nothing was enough.

  As her thighs stung, she felt who she assumed to be Anna lowering herself between her legs. Hot breath was followed closely by eager fingers that spread her open once again. Then came the tongue. This one smaller but heavier. It flicked her clit as the whipping flicked her breasts.

  She wanted to tear the arms off the crucifix, it felt so good. Painfully sweet lash after lash awakened her breasts while the thick velvet little tongue played with her clit. She groaned, head falling back, going from side to side. She pumped her hips as best she could, needing more pressure, needing that final push to send her into oblivion.

  And then Maria called out, “Enough.” And all stopped.

  Camille went slack and hung from the binds. Her body was wound tight, but her mind couldn’t take much more. Sweat now dripped from her temples and she was pretty sure it was beaded on her body as well.

  Her heart tripled over itself as she struggled to calm herself. She thought about saying “stop,” but she didn’t want to give in. And she didn’t want the pleasure to end.

  The realization surprised her a bit. She’d never experimented sexually before, and she’d never imagined herself in a scenario even remotely close to this. Yet here she was and she was enjoying it.

  There was movement in the room before her and she stood straight and tried to listen. To her surprise someone approached and removed the blindfold. It was Anna. She did not smile but she did touch her face and kiss her softly.

  While Camille
’s eyes were still closed from the kiss, Anna moved to the restraints and loosened them. Camille opened her eyes and dropped her wrists. She immediately rubbed them as Anna loosened the ones around her ankles. When she was free, Anna took her hand and led her to a lounge. This one had a long back and a side. She brought Camille to stand before it and then left her.

  Camille waited quietly, but not for long.

  “Are you ready to come, Camille?” Maria asked from behind.

  Camille blinked away some sweat. “Yes.” She did want to come. So badly she thought she might lose her mind. But she didn’t know what was in store for her next, and the anticipation both frightened and excited her.

  “Good,” Maria purred, moving against her. Camille felt something wet and cool against her buttocks. Then she felt Maria’s breath in her ear.

  “Very good, Camille. It is time.” She ran her hands along Camille’s sides and down to her hips. Cupping them, she said. “Get on the couch on your hands and knees.”

  Camille did so carefully, liking the way the creamy soft material felt against her skin. With Anna’s help, she crawled onto the lounge lengthwise so she was parallel with the long back. If she had wanted to she could’ve lain down. She felt Maria climb on behind her, and she readied herself as best she could for what was next.

  There was a brief silence and then she felt the wet cool thing pressing into her opening, searching. When it found her completely, it surged inside her and she cried out and arched her back. Maria’s hands found her hips once again and they clung to her, pulling her backward, fucking her harder.

  “Oh God,” Camille said, feeling the burn of the cock as it pushed against her walls and then tugged against them as it came back out. “Oh—oh, God,” she said again as Maria drove into her, fucking her faster. The cock plunged into her heatedly again and again, burning and pressing and lunging and fucking. She was gripping it like a vise, squeezing it tightly as it went in and out. Her g-spot exploded into white-hot flames and the cock seemed to grow bigger and longer and hotter.

  “Do you want to come?” Maria asked.

  “Yes.” Oh God, so bad. So bad.