A story from a new collection "Strictly Susan - The Seventh Collection" by Susan Strict published 26 October 2007
"I'm not," Mandy objected loudly. "There's nothing kinky about me!"
"Isn't there?" asked Ray with a twinkle in his eye. "So that's why you keep slapping your boyfriend, is it?"
"He needs a slap," Mandy told him. "There's nothing kinky about that."
"Perhaps he should buy you a whip and you could do it properly," Ray suggested, smiling.
"I'll do you if you don't stop it!" Mandy threatened.
"So, you are kinky. You'd love to give me a whipping, would you? I bet you tie that boyfriend of yours to the bed every night!" Ray laughed at Mandy's discomfort.
"Of course not… don't be so vile… I'm
not like that…" Mandy protested.
She was silent for a moment. "Anyway," she said quietly. "He doesn't come round every night."
Ray raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Mandy saw his expression.
"If you think I'm kinky, you should meet my sister!" she said.
"I don't think I've ever seen her," said Ray. "You're twins, aren't you?"
"Yes," said Mandy. "We're twins, but she's nothing like me. She really does have… well, some quite unusual interests. I would never do half the things she did with her last boyfriend; at least, not like she does them."
"Now you really have my mind working overtime!" laughed Ray. "What sort of things does she do?"
"Not a lot now," Mandy told him. "Her present boyfriend doesn't like it at all, so she doesn't do it. I think she's missing it, but she won't get rid of him. I keep telling her that she's going nowhere with him, but she won't listen."
"A couple of kinky twins," Ray teased her. "How exciting!"
"You wouldn't think it so exciting," said Mandy. "Perhaps we really should give you a whipping!"
"What? Both of you?" Ray pretended to be shocked. "You like to share your 'victims', do you?"
Mandy shrugged her shoulders. "If you really want to know," she said quietly, "We've shared boyfriends once or twice. It was quite enjoyable."
Ray really was shocked. "Have you really?" he asked in amazement. "You've both had the same boyfriend at the same time? You mean it? Did you know? I mean, did each of you know the other was…?"
"I should think so," said Mandy in a matter-of-fact tone, "We were in the same bed at the same time, so we couldn't really miss it."
Ray choked, and it was Mandy's turn to laugh. "What's up?" she asked. "One of your fantasies, is it? To have a couple of kinky twins both at once?"
Ray's face had turned a deep red. "No! I mean… No!"
"That's 'no' that means 'yes'," said Mandy, still laughing. "Be careful. Your wish might come true."
Ray shook his head. "I wouldn't be that lucky," he said sadly. "Yes. I admit it. It's one of my fantasies. I think it's one of every man's fantasies."
"You might be that lucky." Mandy's eyes met his with a look that held him.
"You're not serious?"
"Why not?
"You can't be serious."
"Why not?
"You just can't. You have your own boyfriend, and so does your sister."
"My boyfriend is away for two weeks, and my sister hasn't seen hers for at least a week. She won't admit it, but I think I was right. He's not the one for her."
"I'm certainly not the one for her," said Ray hurriedly, suddenly feeling that the conversation had taken a turn in a direction he had not intended at all. Also, it was a direction that was particularly embarrassing, not least because the thought of sleeping with twins, particularly twins like Mandy, had long been one of his most cherished fantasies. It was as if his most secret desire had suddenly been published, and he was equally sure that any minute now she would walk away laughing at him for taking her seriously.
"So," he said in an effort to change the subject just slightly, and perhaps to draw her away from the discussion of whether or not he would like to sleep with both of them at the same time, "What was it your sister liked that her boyfriend didn't want to do?"
"You'll have to ask her," Mandy told him. "Or perhaps she will show you. There are quite a few things I'd like to do too, that I haven't tried yet."
"Oh yes," Mike nodded. "Like tying your boyfriend to the bed, or whipping him." He laughed, but it was a rather nervous laugh.
Mandy shook her head. "No," she said. "Been there. Done that. Seriously, that's nothing new."
"You told me you weren't like that!" Ray teased her.
"That was before you told me it was your fantasy to have both of us at once."
"I was joking."
"You weren't."
There was silence.
"All right, I wasn't"
Now he had said it, and there was no mistaking it. He waited for the put-down.
She took her time. It was as if she enjoyed his nervousness, and as if she was reluctant to say anything that might make him feel more comfortable with the way the conversation was going.
Finally she spoke. "I want to wrap a man in cling-film."
"You want to
what?"
"Wrap a man in cling-film. I just love the feel of that stuff, and having it stretched tightly over a man's body would be so delicious…"
"It's different, I suppose…"
There was another silence.
"Come on," she said suddenly.
"What? Where?"
"To wrap you in cling-film, of course. What are you waiting for?"
"I…" he stuttered, not knowing what to say.
"Do you want to do that with me or not?" she demanded. "Because if you don't really want me or my sister then I'll go and find someone else."
"Your sister? I suppose she's into cling-film too?"
"I have no idea. Probably not. I'm sure she'll find something she wants to do. She's at home now, so are you coming or not?"
He followed her hesitantly. "Um…" he said nervously. "Um… do you have enough cling-film?"
"Oh yes," she assured him. "I've had it for a long while. I was just waiting for the right occasion."
*
The twins' house was small and sparsely furnished. There was no sign of Mandy's sister when they arrived, and Mandy led Ray straight up the stairs to a bedroom where a large double bed occupied most of the room.
"Stand by the bed," she told him, "And just take off your shirt. We can worry about the rest later."
While he did as she instructed, she opened a cupboard and took out a large catering roll of cling-film. "A hundred metres," she said proudly. "I think that should be enough, and I have three more rolls of it if we run out."
She freed one end from the roll and held it in the centre of his back. She walked round him five times, feeding out the film and stretching it, making sure each layer adhered firmly and smoothly to the layer underneath. His arms were down at his sides, and as she stretched more and more of the film around him they were pressed more and more securely against him. By the time she finished her fifth layer he could not move them at all, and the strength of the multiple layers was more than enough to prevent him from breaking free.
"Good," she said, tearing off the film from the roll and pressing down the ends. "It's rather nice, isn't it?"
She ran her hands over his chest, and shuddered excitedly.
"I feel squashed," he told her. "It's rather tight."
"That's the idea," she said delightedly. "It wouldn't be any fun at all if it was loose. You're enjoying it. I can see that."
She ran her hand down the front of his trousers and felt around what was now an obvious bulge.
"Very nice," she commented. "We might give that some more attention later."
He groaned, more in anticipation than anything else, and she giggled excitedly.
"You are quite helpless like that," she pointed out. "I could do anything I like to you, and I don't have to let you go until I've had enough of you."
"Yes, all right. I know that. I only let you do because I trust you," he muttered, not feeling at all sure of himself.
"Do you?" she asked in surprise. "How sweet. Do you trust my sister too? She'll be here soon. I can't think where she's got to."
"If she's your twin then she's like you," he said hopefully. "So yes, I trust her too."
"Until she turns up," said Mandy, "I suppose we had better find something else to do. What about that whipping I promised you?"
To his dismay, he saw she had taken a long whip from the cupboard. She ran her fingers down the length of it lovingly.
"You thought I was joking when I said we would give you a whipping," she said with a broad grin on her face. "You would never have believed that I had a real whip. Actually, I have several of them, and some riding crops. Do you want to see them?"
"You're not going to whip me!" His voice rose to a high-pitched shriek.
"Why not?" she inquired. "It would do you good. Anyway, you can't stop me if I want to do it. You can't stop me
whatever I want to do."
"Please…" he was beginning to panic.
"Oh you little wimp," she snapped. "No, I'm not going to whip you; not at the moment at least. But I think it's high time we had those trousers off you."
She did not wait for his comments on that. She undid his belt and trousers and pulled them down to his ankles, quickly followed by his underpants. She made him lift one leg at a time while she took off his shoes and pulled his trousers and underpants right off. He stood there naked from the waist down with his top half covered in cling-film. He shivered, although it was not at all cold.
She gripped the end of his hardness between finger and thumb, and squeezed just hard enough to make him wince.
"Nice," she said approvingly. "Was it the thought of being whipped that made it so hard?"
"N…no," he stammered. "You're a beautiful girl. I can't help…"
"Good," she said, letting go of it and giving him a playful slap. "I wouldn't want to have to threaten you with a whip every time I want you to
stand up for me."
She stood back, doing nothing except gazing at him. He felt more and more uncomfortable.
"This is a bit silly," he said finally.
"Do you think so?" she asked thoughtfully, and without any warning she picked up the long whip and cracked it in his direction. He cried out in pain as the end of it caught him on the inside of his thigh. A thin, red welt appeared on his skin.
"Ow… Oh! You said you wouldn't… Ouch! Oh shit!"
"I didn't say I wouldn't," she pointed out. "I said not at the moment. That was a while ago."
"Don't. No, don't!" His voice rose in pitch again as she raised the whip. She lowered it.
"You said you wanted to do kinky stuff with me," she reminded him.
"That's not quite what I said," he protested. "I didn't say anything about whipping."
"You most certainly did," she retorted. "In fact it was you who brought up the subject of whips, not me."
She walked around him, caressing the whip as she walked. He watched her, frightened that she would suddenly whip him again without warning.
"Please don't," he begged.
"I won't," she assured him to his relief. "Just as long as you remember that I can."
She put down the whip. "I think," she said, "That we'll finish off the cling-film."
She took the roll of cling-film, inspecting him carefully as if deciding just how she wanted him wrapped. She started with his ankles and worked her way up his legs, stretching the film tightly binding his legs together. When she neared the top of his legs, she paused and once more inspected him thoughtfully.
"I can't decide," she said, "Whether to leave
that sticking out or whether to cover it too. And, if I cover it, whether to press it upwards which is where it seems to want to point, or downwards against your legs. I think downwards would be better, because I think that would be rather more uncomfortable for you."
"Not downwards," he told her firmly. "That would hurt."
"I wasn't asking you," she said lightly. "I was just trying to decide. Downwards it is then."
"You can't," he said in panic. "It won't go in that direction, not when it's… like it is!"
"I think you might enjoy a bit of pressure on it," she told him, and as she spoke she pressed his hardness downwards. He gasped at her touch, and then groaned in discomfort as she increased the pressure with her hand until she had managed to position it where she wanted it. With some difficulty, she wrapped the cling-film around the top of his thighs, holding his throbbing manhood firmly in place.
"See?" she said with satisfaction. "It's not a problem. I might set it free later. I'll see how I feel. If it's uncomfortable for you, then all you have to do is to stop making it so hard. It's only where it ought to hang normally anyway!"
He groaned again, but he did not argue. She wrapped another layer of cling-film around him, starting at his ankles and working all the way up to the top of his chest.
"There we are," she told him. "Nice and smooth and shiny. You do feel lovely!"
She ran her hands over him from his chest right down to his restrained hardness and rubbed it through the layers of film.
"Absolutely lovely," she repeated, and then unexpectedly pushed him backwards.
He lost his balance and fell back onto the bed.
"Wasn't it lucky the bed was behind you?" she said. She lifted his legs onto the bed and swung him round, pushing as hard as she could until he was positioned roughly in the centre of the bed.
"You're heavy," she commented.
"Not particularly," he told her. "Now you've wrapped me completely in cling-film, you could think about letting me go again. You can't do anything much else with my… you know… wrapped up!"
"There's a lot I could do," she declared. "In any case, you're not completely wrapped. Your head is free." She reached for the roll of cling-film.
"You can't wrap my head," he said, horrified. "You'd suffocate me."
"I suppose so," she agreed without much enthusiasm. "Perhaps I could poke a couple of holes in it for your nostrils? I think my fingernails are sharp enough to do that. I'm going to try, anyway."
She kicked off her shoes, clambered onto the bed and sat astride his chest. She rapidly wrapped the cling-film around him, lifting his head so that she could get it right round the back. She stretched and pulled it tight as she wrapped it. There was nothing he could do to stop her. His breathing was cut off completely, and real panic hit him as he discovered that he could neither breathe in nor out. The film was too strong and was stretched too tightly for the slightest movement of even a whisper of air.
Now he desperately needed to breathe, and his panic was making it worse. She sat there as though she had not a care in the world, one hand resting on his chest and the other on his film-covered cheek, one finger moving ever so slightly over his lips.
It was nearly a minute, a whole airless minute, before she seemed to realise how severe his problem was becoming. Very carefully, without rushing, she pressed one fingernail against the cling-film covering his nostrils and pushed. The film stretched, but did not break. She pressed harder, forcing her finger round and stretching the film up his nostril until, at last, there was a faint pop and a small hole appeared in the film. She withdrew her finger immediately and repeated the procedure to make another small hole for his other nostril by again forcing a film-covered finger up his nostril to stretch it in that direction until a hole appeared.
He could breathe, not comfortably but enough to survive.
His mouth, half open and still trying to suck in air, moved hopelessly under its covering. She bent down, opened her mouth and kissed the smooth film over his lips, pressing her tongue against it and licking back and forth over and around his mouth. Then she sat up and laughed.
"You're very exciting like that," she told him. "I can't believe how turned-on it makes me."
He did not feel at all exciting and, at that moment, not nearly so excited as he had felt earlier. The layers of film over his eyes blurred his vision. He could hardly breathe, and the stretched pockets of film where her fingers had pressed into them filled his nostrils and moved uncomfortably as he drew what little air he could in and out. Her weight on his chest was not helping either. She evidently noticed his flagging arousal.
"You're not making the effort to enjoy it," she scolded him, reaching behind her and pressing onto his manhood. "Perhaps I can help you."
In one quick movement, she pulled her top off over her head and then unclipped her bra. She threw the discarded clothes across the room.
"Better?" she enquired. "Or should I take some more off? I think I should."
She stood up on the bed, her feet either side of him. She unzipped her skirt and dropped it, then slid her panties down and managed somehow to balance on one leg at a time on the springy bed as she took them right off.
"How's that?" she asked.
He only had a blurry vision of the naked girl standing over him, but it had an effect. He could feel the pressure of the tight cling-film once again holding back his growing hardness.
Instead of sitting back on his chest, she sat considerably further down him and then slid backward and forward on the slightly raised lump of his erection. Her eyes were closed, and there was no doubt at all even from the obscured vision Ray had of her that the sensations she was experiencing were more than a little pleasurable for her. For Ray, however, it was nothing less than torturous frustration.
She kept it up for nearly ten minutes, panting and perspiring. With an almighty groan that was almost but not quite the climax she was seeking, she threw herself forward and onto him, her breasts pressing into his face. Once again he found himself completely unable to breathe, and this time in her sweaty, tired state she seemed totally unaware of his predicament.
He thought he was going to pass out, and it was only at that moment she raised herself from him as though she knew just how much smothering he could take and had timed it perfectly.
"The trouble with wrapping you completely in cling-film," she said as if nothing had happened, "Is that I really can't get the feelings I need from your rigid bits underneath it. Perhaps it would be better on your face? You do have a nice solid chin, and your nose sticks out quite a bit even under that cling-film."
He wanted to tell her he could not take any more and that she would have to stop and release him. He wanted to let her know how close he had been to losing consciousness under her breasts, and that at the very least he needed time to recover and to breathe freely, and that even now she was not pressing down on him he was having the greatest difficulty in drawing enough air into his lungs.
No intelligible sound reached her. She sighed, and positioned herself carefully on his face. His mouth was completely covered by her, but that made no difference. She was not a particularly large girl, and as long as she stayed where she was and did not lean forward he could continue to breathe. Just.
It was inevitable that his relative comfort did not last long. Within a few seconds she was pressing forward and back, and quite unable to keep still for a moment. As he feared, she blocked his breathing. Fortunately for him, her movements were rhythmical and he was able to time his breathing to coincide with when his nostrils were free. It was not easy, and he had far from enough air to feel comfortable. He forced himself to relax so that his body's demands for air would be at the absolute minimum. He fought the panic that kept rising within him, knowing that above all he needed to remain calm and controlled.
It went on for over half an hour. He would not have believed that any woman could go on for so long, gasping and groaning, shivering, shuddering, pressing down one minute and sliding back and forth the next. The cling-film over his face was wet from her, obscuring his vision still further and some of the wetness finding its way into his nose and making his situation even less pleasant.
Finally, with an almighty shriek and shudder, her legs gripped the sides of his head with such force he felt his skull would crack, and she fell backward onto him, moaning. She did not move for the next five minutes at least.
When she sat up, it was as though nothing particularly special had happened. True, she was naked and perspiring a little, but anyone who had seen her would have had no idea of what she had just done. She was completely calm, and completely composed.
She had not finished. As long as it had been already that she had spent relieving her lusts on top of him, she still wanted more. Her fingers pressed at the cling-film around his hardness, digging her fingernails into it and tearing it away. His manhood sprung out as though on a strong spring, and with hardly a tremor she had it inside her.
She had hardly started a steady up-and-down movement on him when the door opened.
"Busy?" asked Mandy's sister.
"Hi Lisa. Not particularly," replied Mandy, looking over her shoulder at her twin without altering her steady rhythm.
"I'll leave you to it then," said Lisa, turning to leave.
"No need," Mandy told her. "I got this one for you. He's quite keen on twins, so he says."
"Really?" Lisa came closer. "So you didn't think that starting without me was a little unfair?"
"Not at all," replied Mandy, not the least put out by her sister's comment. "You haven't missed much."
Ray could hardly see through the cling-film over his face, but something did not seem quite right. Lisa looked to him to be very different from her sister, although he could not be sure. He had expected twins to be very much alike if not absolutely identical.
"You've made a nasty mess here," Lisa said, wrinkling her nose. "I'm going to take that cling-film off his head. It's all mucky."
"Do whatever you like," agreed Mandy. "He's yours as much as he's mine. More yours, probably. You can do whatever it was your last boyfriend wouldn't let you do with him. What was it, by the way? You never did tell me."
Lisa was pulling at the cling-film over Ray's head, much to his relief.
"Nothing much," she said. "I just wanted to do what you've just done by the looks of it. I can't understand why he didn't like it. Perhaps he was worried about the way my muscles go a bit out of control when I orgasm. Stupid, if you ask me. He liked it enough when he had his cock in me."
"You are so coarse!" Mandy told her. "Not an ounce of subtlety about you anywhere!"
"No point," said Lisa. "Call a spade a spade, and you won't get confused by a ruddy shovel."
She had finished removing the film from Ray's head. He looked up at her in astonishment, and then in sudden fear as he realised what she had just said.
Lisa was not at all like her sister. Far from being short and slender, Lisa was huge. She towered over the bed like a colossus. Her breasts, each one the size of a basketball, strained at the flimsy material of her black dress as if desperate to escape. Her hips were so broad that he doubted whether he would have been able to put both his arms around them if he had been free to try. Her legs were like tree trunks.
"Do you want to finish before I start?" she asked Mandy.
"Not at all," said Mandy obligingly. "You carry on and take your time over it. We have him for as long as we want, and I'm not planning on taking the cling-film off the rest of him any time soon. My boyfriend isn't back for another two weeks. Just try not to do too much damage too soon, if you don't mind. I would rather like to be able to do this a few times more at least over the next few days."
"So you don't want me to sit on his face yet?" asked Lisa.
"Oh, go on then. I expect he'll be all right afterwards," said Mandy, moving more rapidly up and down the length of his hardness now.
"He might be," Lisa agreed. "It's too good an opportunity not to make the most of it, isn’t it?"
"It certainly is," Mandy agreed. "It certainly is…"
"Strictly Susan - The Seventh Collection"
