Home > The Red(15)

The Red(15)
Author: Tiffany Reisz

"She’ll get it now for sure,” the pink girl said, shaking her head.

"She’ll wish she hadn’t said that,” said the girl in blue.

"Or she’ll wish she’d said it twice,” the girl in pink added and they all laughed, even Malcolm.

"She’ll have to be punished,” Malcolm said. "Won’t you, wicked child?”

"I’m not wicked,” the girl in yellow said as she wriggled off his lap. "I’m honest.”

"Honestly wicked.” Malcolm grabbed her arm again and dragged her back into his lap. "Now kiss me to say you’re sorry.”

"I won’t!” The girl in yellow sounded adamant.

"Then I’ll steal the kiss and won’t give it back,” Malcolm said.

"You wouldn’t—” It was all the girl in yellow could say before Malcolm kissed her on the mouth.

The two other nymphs dissolved into girlish laughter at the sight of their friend being kissed by Malcolm. One second the girl in yellow was trying to push him away, the next second she had her hands in his hair, trying to pull him closer. Even Mona laughed, though it was her lover who kissed another. She felt no jealousy. This was the game. The satyr must have his nymphs to torment. The nymphs must have their satyr.

At last the girl in yellow managed to flee from the prison of his lap. She rushed back to Mona and threw her arms around her.

"He caught me,” the girl in yellow said. "Don’t let him have me.”

"You’re the one who tried to make him dance with you,” Mona said.

"Oh yes,” the yellow girl said. She stood up straight and proud. "That was my mistake. And he’s still not dancing.”

"But we should dance,” the girl in blue said. "Let’s dance so much he has no choice but to join us.”

It made no sense at all to Mona, but nothing in this room with that man and these silly girls did. Even more, she didn’t care if it made sense or not. She only wanted to dance with the pretty trio, these gauzy golden-eyed nymphs. They pulled ribbons from their hair and spun like dervishes as the music grew louder and faster. The girl in pink with the milk glass skin and pale yellow hair danced around Malcolm’s chair, his throne, and caught her ribbon round his wrist, then used it to drag him to his feet.

"She’s hooked a fish!” the girl in yellow shouted. "A big fish.”

"That’s not a fish, that’s a dolphin,” said the girl in blue. "See how he grins.”

Malcolm leered at the girl in pink who had hooked him. She pulled on the ribbon wrapped round his wrist, but he pulled back—he had his own satyr’s trick. She didn’t let the ribbon go in time, and he caught her and twined the ribbon round her wrists.

"I’m talking my pet for a walk,” he said as he led the girl in pink around the room. "Don’t mind us…”

The girl in pink tried to untie herself as she walked behind Malcolm, a pretty puppy on a pretty pink leash. But there was nothing for her. He had her trapped.

"Let me go, beast. Let me go,” she said.

He spun her around to face him.

"For the price of a kiss,” he said. "I’ll think about it.”

"He means it, Pinky,” the girl in blue said. "Better kiss him or you’ll be his pet forever.”

"Not that,” she said, her cheeks pinking like her name. "Anything but that.”

She pressed close to him and tilted her face up, closing her eyes. She was the perfect picture of a martyr. Martyr and satyr. Satyr and Martyr. Silly fools, all of them. Malcolm kissed his pink pet on the lips and the girls in blue and yellow clapped wildly and cheered. Mona did too, for no reason she could name other than it seemed to be part of the game. The kiss continued, deepening. Malcolm bent the girl backwards in his lust. He brought his large right hand to her breast and groped it over her gown.

The girls in blue and yellow booed, but the girl in pink didn’t seem to mind. Malcolm’s erection pressed between her thighs and was swathed in pink fabric. Red against pink. He yanked the bodice of the girl’s dress down, baring her breast. He latched onto the nipple, sucking it into his mouth as the girl trapped in his grasp gave a little cry of pleasure and fear.

"He’s got her now,” the girl in yellow said. "No getting her out.”

"I told her to stay at home today,” the blue girl said. "She never listens.”

"I never listen either,” Mona said, and that made the blue and yellow girls laugh so hard they almost fell over. They took up their ribbons again and skipped in a circle around Malcolm and the pink girl. He had her dress pushed down to her waist now, so that she was naked from the hips up. Her breasts were small and pale and her nipples pink as her gown, and her face was awash in ecstasy as Malcolm licked her little nipples, his hands huge on her tiny waist.

"He’s not going to let her go until she gives in,” the girl in blue said, taking Mona by the hands and making a bridge with their arms. "Don’t you think?”

"I’m sure he’ll let her go eventually,” Mona said. "Won’t he?”

"But she won’t be a water nymph when he’s done with her,” the girl in yellow said. "She’ll be a wet nymph!”

Even Malcolm stopped fondling Pinky long enough to roar with laughter. They all laughed and the dancing resumed. They whirled and spun and turned and bowed and it seemed Mona would never tire of it. And in the midst of them, Malcolm tore the blonde girl’s pink gown from her body. He turned her around in his arms to take her from behind.

"I knew it,” the girl in yellow said as she emerged from a spin. "You can’t say I didn’t warn her.”

Malcolm took his cock in hand and guided it into the girl’s pink hole. All the other girls, Mona too, clapped and cheered as Malcolm pulled his captured nymph’s hips back against him and rutted into her rapidly. Her wrists were still tied in front of her and she held them to her chest. She gave little sounds of pleasure and protests—oh’s and no’s and oh’s again.

It was a sin to watch and yet impossible to look away. The three free girls huddled together and pointed and giggled behind their hands. Mona felt light as a child, free as a kite. It felt like she’d stumbled into someone else’s erotic dream and since she was there, she might as well play along.

The pink girl’s face turned red as Malcolm took her even harder from behind. He bent his knees to lower himself a few inches, all the better to ram her deep. His hips undulated obscenely. It seemed his legs were far hairier than Mona remembered and his ears more pointed than ever before. She was dizzy, indeed, from all the laughing and spinning, and she already knew Malcolm could disguise himself in mysterious ways. He made an animalistic sound as he pumped into the girl from behind and the girl let out a girlish whimper. Mona grew wet watching, terribly wet, and she was already eager for her turn with the satyr.

Malcolm’s muscles were tight all over his body. He was all sweating skin and straining sinew, organ and bone. He yanked the girl in his grip back against his cock one last time. She cried out in her climax and he grunted in his.

The girl slid off his organ and fell onto the floor on her back.

"Pinky!” the girl in yellow cried. She dropped to her knees at the pink girl’s side and took the ribbons from her wrist. The girl in blue lifted the pink girl’s pale hand to her lips and kissed it.

"Are you there?” the girl in blue asked.

Pinky opened her eyes and raised her head. "He got me.” She gave a pitiful fake cough like a child trying to get out of school for the day.

"In the heart?” the yellow girl asked, her eyes wide with wonder and concern.

"Is my heart between my legs?” the girl, Pinky, asked.

The girls shook their heads.

"Then that’s not where he got me!” cried Pinky.

They all laughed again—even Pinky, who was attempting to play dead.

"Baby Blue…” Pinky said through barely parted lips. Her arm lay over her eyes.

"Yes, Pinky?” Baby Blue asked.

"Avenge me…” Pinky said. Her arm fell to the floor and she was gone…for three seconds, until she giggled again.

   
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