Free Belonger (An erotic novel): Part One by Daniel Six Page B

their choices
until two of them established a majority, settling on a voluptuous
lady in yellow, breasts bulging over the frilled pleats of a
glamorously ornate dress. All three men approached her and she met
their ranked formation with an anxious smile.
    The Merkin flipped a small glass capsule
filled with sand that he used for stage timing.
    “ The first man takes his
turn.”
    The minority man stepped forward and
attempted to impose his personality on the situation. “Lift your
dress,” he rasped, behavior channeled by the structure of the game.
The woman bashfully raised her hem to reveal the delicately tapered
bulge of yellow-clad genitalia.
    “ Slide your panties up to
expose your vagina.”
    “ Yes, sir…” she whispered
and settled back on the divan. Lofting her stockinged legs high,
she slid supple fingers into her lingerie and offered her pubis to
view with a dramatic sweep. The man leaned over to look, menacing
and solicitous at once. Her clitoris blushed in the warm light of
the salon.
    He meditatively took it to thumb and
forefinger, held her thus for a moment, communing with her
womanhood. Then his grip tightened.
    “ Render your secret to me,”
he rigidly intoned, pulling rhythmically at the flesh. Her breath
caught as she was cagily provoked by this rough treatment of her
most vulnerable site. His free hand initiated a sly, rim-orbiting
seduction of her sphincter.
    “ Show it,” he coaxed,
insistently unhurried as he made his mark on her
interest.
    The Merkin watched intently until the last of
the sand had trickled through his timer, signaling the end of the
man’s opportunity. He flipped it to initiate a new one.
    “ The next man takes his
turn,” he boomed.
    The second of the three inquisitors employed
a quite different philosophy of investigation. His big hand swept
down to spank the woman firmly on her labia.
    “ Open!”
    She squeaked, instantly captivated by his
glowering regard. Her eyes narrowed in speculation, then flashed
painfully as she was humorlessly cuffed again. The Merkin saw her
pubis blush to a dusky shade of pink, a moist flower peeping
between thighs feebly wandering in the aftermath of his ungentle
smartening of comportment.
    “ Open wide!” he demanded
more forcefully, and swatted her crotch fluently in emphasis, three
fast strokes. She snarled, gaze fixed on his rigidly hovering hand,
locus of a dualized misery and excitation. He quit her company on
the implicit threat of a second encounter.
    “ The last man takes his
turn.”
    The woman next found herself negotiated by a
sophisticated pudendal artificer who refined the methods of his
predecessors to a wily alternation of empathy and contempt. Her
plump vulva was rubbed and tweaked with a calculated fondness,
worked by fingers that plied the ache in her clitoris with a
patient, finger-tipped circumduction, traveled the weeping seam of
her vagina to massage away the heat of her earlier
mistreatment.
    “… much easier to just let it
happen… relief when it’s finished and your privacy is restored…
just spread your legs and close your eyes and…” The Merkin heard
snatches of his whispered persuasion, a constantly reasonable
appeal that swiftly eroded her self-control.
    She slowly smiled, infatuated by his touch,
only to encounter a vicious antipathy a moment later as he slapped
her assumptively on the twat, spanking away any friendliness that
had developed. Then he was kind again, a smiling, pussy-pampering
suitor leaning in to gratefully inhale the fragrance of her
bauble-packed sex.
    “ The woman makes her
choice,” intoned the Merkin, ending the
round.
    The men stood expressionlessly, awaiting her
decision as the yellow-garbed beauty collected herself, swallowed
once in subconscious digestion of the experience, nodded timidly to
the man who had offered hard discipline.
    “ Him,” she huskily
confirmed.
    The first and third inquisitors returned to
the middle as the winner reached to the woman’s crotch and