Diana looked at Mike's face. His mouth and nose and chin were smeared with a telltale sheen of cunt sauces. Now Diana knew why Yvonne had that special gleam in her eyes.
Diana stared at her bleakly.
Yvonne gestured toward the bed with a graceful hand. "Why don't you two gentlemen stake her out on the bed? It's my turn to play games with her!"
Diana's blood turned to ice. The electrician's tape wrapped around her wrists was starting to lose its stick from the shower, but she still could not free her hand. Her eyes sent a mute plea to her husband as Eric and Frank seized her and dragged her to the bed.
They made her lie on her back. Water ran from her naked body, soaked into the yellow bedspread. Her tits rose and fell heavily as she took deep breaths and fried to control the panic welling up in her.
Eric sat by her side, looking thoughtfully down at her glorious, shining-wet nakedness, as Frank looked for something to tie her with. Finding nothing, the apish handyman turned with a snort of disgust and threw open Mike's suitcase, which was lying unfastened on the luggage stand.
He rummaged though Mike's belongings, tossing socks, underwear, and shirts around the room. Then he stared hard at something and snatched it out of the open suitcase.
It was a photo album, bound in red leather. "Hey, y'all look at this!" he called to his naked employers. "I found it lyin' open. It's got photographs of this bitch in it, sucking on some guy's dick!"
Yvonne and Eric crowded around to look, though Eric kept a watchful eye on the nude captive on the bed. "Well, I'll be damned," he said.
"That's definitely Mike's cock she's sucking," Yvonne announced, a little breathlessly.
Eric thumbed through the pages, whistling to himself. Prank looked at Diana. She felt herself blushing, the pink flush creeping from her toes to her tits and cheeks the color of a new dawn.
"Looks like you give good head, honey," the handyman said. His cock was climbing up from between his thighs as blood poured excitedly into it. "Maybe I'll just try myself a little of that!"
Yvonne looked up from the picture she was studying, of Diana standing naked with her back to the camera, framed against a turbulent and cloudy sky, giving the photographer a look of passion that promised a session of fucking that would dwarf the power of the coming storm. "You wait your turn, big boy," she commanded. "She's mine now!"
Frank shrugged and turned back to ransacking Mike's case. He found an electric shaver and electric alarm clock. "This'll do," he said, tearing off the cords. "We can get two more cords from the lamps – I can fix 'em up later on."
He pulled the cords off two table lamps. Yvonne stepped close to him so that an erect nipple prodded his brawny arm. She whispered in his ear. He nodded, smiled, and went out the front door, his cock bobbing before him.
Wondering what evil errand Yvonne had sent on the handyman on, Mike watched helplessly as Eric and his sister methodically tied Diana spread-eagled on the bed. From time, to time Yvonne would pause and caress his captive wife, run a finger down her flanks, squeeze the jut of a tit or tickle briefly at the shallow dome of Diana's belly. The prisoner flinched away front her touch as though her fingers were red-hot.
When Diana was securely tied, Eric and Yvonne sat down on the bed next to her. Eric stroked his sister's cheek with the back of his hand. He let the hand fall to cup a glorious tit. Mike could see a wine-colored nipple spring instantly erect between his fingers.
Almost casually Yvonne dropped her hand to the long limp cable of her brother's cock. Under the caress of her skilled, teasing fingers the cock, so recently spent inside Diana's pussy, started to harden once again.
Diana watched the pair, disgust almost overcoming her pain and fear. Brother and sister, fondling each other as fondly and intimately as lovers? The practiced way Yvonne jacked her brother off as he massaged her ripe, soft tit showed clearly the two were no strangers to incest. Even as Diana's eyebrows rose Eric leaned forward to kiss Yvonne's tit right on a swollen nipple.
Yvonne sighed happily, cradling her brother's head against her tit. Her fingers made a light circle around his cock, which was now standing straight up from his crotch. He nibbled gently at her nipple.
The door opened. Frank the handyman came in with another pair of handcuffs, with which he manacled Mike's legs to the chair. So far Mike had made no attempt to escape – how far could he get, naked and with his hands cuffed behind him? Nor could he hope to do much to save his tortured wife.
What fiendish torment did their captors have in mind for Diana now, if they took this kind of precaution?
In a moment he had his answer. Frank went out and came back immediately holding a black hibachi gingerly by the wooden handles. Its coals gave off a dull red glow, and even several feet away Mike could feel the heat.
Diana stared at him as he carried the hibachi to the side of the bed. Then he held up a pair of tongs and grinned hugely. She screamed. The coals were meant for her!
Her carefully-guarded self control shattered. Her body curved upwards into a flying buttress of naked white flesh as she fought to tear free of the electric cords that bound her wrists and ankles. Her voice was high and broken, like an animal in pain, shrieking wordlessly in hellish horror.
"No!" Mike gasped. "You can't – you wouldn't! You wouldn't."
Yvonne smiled at him. The patches of dark skin surrounding her nipple seemed to have widened, cupping the front of her boobs the way her brother's hand and mouth had a few moments before. Then she raised one of Mike's handkerchiefs and, with Eric's help, tied it over Diana's eyes.
"Help me!" the captive shrieked. "Mike – no, don't let them! God, they're going to brand me, they're going to burn me alive!"
Mike started to curse them, his baritone voice a bellowing roar like an angry tiger. Yvonne stood up, strode to him in three long, hip and tit-swinging strides, and stuffed a rolled pair of his own socks into his mouth. Frank taped his mouth over, muffling him with a crude but effective gag.
"Don't want you drowning out Diana's screams for mercy," Yvonne said. "They have such a sweet, musical sound." Mike glared poisonously at her.
Frank left the room a third time. He came back at once, and Mike stared blankly at him. He had a styrofoam bucket full of ice from the machine!
Mike had no idea what was going on as Frank, smirking, passed the ice bucket to Yvonne. She went back to the bed, sat at Diana's side, and picked up the tongs. With the tongs she took a cube from the bucket, studied it, then touched it to the captive's quivering, bare right boob!
Diana lay in blackness. Her bound limbs shivered uncontrollably. God, this is it, the worst nightmare possible, she thought. They're not only going to torture me – they're going to brand me, mutilate me, mark me for life! They'll burn every inch of skin from my boob, and when they're finished there they'll probably sear my pussy lips as a joke! She promised herself one thing. She would be brave. She'd cheat them of as much sadistic enjoyment as she could.
Then a red-hot coal touched the flesh of her right tit, and she went insane with agony.
Diana's voice rose in a series of shrill yapping cries like a dog struck by a car. Her body bucked on the bed and Mike could see the thin cords biting deeply into her as she struggled. Yvonne lifted the ice and looked at him with laughter dancing in her azure eyes.
He understood now why he'd been gagged. What their captors were doing was something he'd heard of before, from the days when fraternity hazing was still common. The intended victim was allowed to see hot coals or branding irons or whatever, then was blindfolded. With a person psychologically prepared for searing heat, the stinging bite of ice on bare skin felt exactly like the touch of a white-hot iron.