Clairiel , the Organ Grinder
Clairiel was in a wonderful place, indescribable, but wonderful nonetheless. Delicious sensations seemed to flow over and through her, neither stopping nor starting, just being. She was perfectly content, and would have remained so had it not been for the sudden, unwelcome thumps. First a small one, but soon the thumps came with more frequency. Suddenly her eyelids flew open with the realization of where she really was. When her vision focused Clairiel determined that she was hanging upside down. She stretched her head forward in an effort to look up at her feet. She saw that they were secured in inversion boots, and also, that her impenetrable latex superheroine outfit was gone, and in its place was … nothing. As she considered her predicament she was startled by something moving in front of her. It was a small, hideously ugly face. Its eyes glared at her.
It was a monkey’s face. She let out a gasp. The monkey screamed at her and ran away. The movement caused her to sway back and forth slightly. She looked around the room as best she could. She was alone. She could tell no one was behind her because of the full-length mirror directly in front of her. She saw in the mirror, however, that she was not entirely naked; there was a collar around her neck. She strained to see what the design was on it. Before she could make it out the monkey returned dragging some kind of a rod behind it. Her keen superheroine powers allowed her to notice that the monkey was wearing the same collar as she was, and she studied the design for some clues.
She had come here because of monkeys. Her friend, the dear old Giuseppe had come to her in tears. He said Marco had been stolen. Marco was not only his livelihood, being the organ grinder’s monkey, but he was also his only companion, and it had been obvious to Clairiel that Giuseppe’s heart was breaking. She could do nothing else but promise the old man she would get Marco back. Her network of friends had quickly led her to this elegant building down by the waterfront. The rumors had it that a man who lived here had been paying people for live monkeys, for who knew what unthinkable purposes. Clairiel had broken in easily enough, but the last thing she remembered was a strange feeling of unseen critters descending on her. Then she awoke here.
Clairiel spied the monkey looking at her, and she tried to communicate with it.
“Little monkey, help me. I need to get down and save you.”
The monkey tilted his head, but did nothing more than continue looking at her.
“Please, mister monkey, do you understand? I am here to save you.”
The monkey suddenly sat upright, which caused Clairiel to begin to hope. The monkey scampered to the side and brought back the rod-like device he had drug in earlier. To Clairiel’s all-powerful eyes it looked like a backscratcher. A long thin pole, with a small, black hand at one end. Clairiel was puzzled, to say the least.
“Mr. Monkey, help me down.”
The monkey moved the hand end of the backscratcher towards her, then moved it upwards slightly until the hand was on her nipple. Clairiel’s left eyebrow raised, or rather lowered given her current position, as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The monkey began moving the backscratcher back and forth, causing the hand, which had a rubbery feel, to massage her nipple.
“This is not exactly what I had in mind,” Clairiel said to no one in particular.
The monkey kept at it, though, increasing both the pressure and the movement. She wasn’t sure if it was the blood that had rushed to her head or what, but the thing was affecting her. The monkey soon moved the little hand to her other nipple and gave it similar treatment. Clairiel closed her eyes, partly to try and focus on what she needed to do, partly because it seemed natural. As she envisioned the inversion boots in her mind, thinking of ways Bomonti travesti to escape them, she felt the little hand moving up from her breasts, slowly across her navel and on up to center of her superheroine powers.
“Stop that,” she cried, to no avail.
The monkey was persistent and seemed to know exactly what it was doing.
“This is impossible,” Clairiel thought to herself and she struggled against the restraints on her feet but only succeeded in thrusting her pussy towards the little rubber hand. Clairiel heard the door open and made out the form of another monkey, also wearing the uniquely designed collar. This one was dragging what looked to be a similar object, a thin pole with a hand, but the hand was much larger than the other one. In fact it was about the size of a human hand. The monkey disappeared behind her, and soon her thoughts returned to the monkey in front of her, the one with the little hand working on her pussy and clitoris.
She was writhing now, vainly struggling against the exquisite torture and the feelings working downward to her head. Clairiel was jolted by a sudden slap on her ass. Again. Somebody was slapping her ass … or some thing. She remembered the second monkey and quickly looked in the mirror. Sure enough the second monkey had raised the larger hand and was spanking her ass. At this point Clairiel convinced herself she must be dreaming, hanging upside down, enduring the transgressions of these two rubber hands, with little chattering sounds coming from the monkeys as they went about their business like robots. Her eyes closed, she began reveling in the alternating sensations of the little hand rotating around her clitoris and the big hand making contact with her reddening ass. She heard the door open again.
“What will this monkey bring,” she wickedly thought to herself.
“Are we having fun?”
The man’s voice startled her. She opened her eyes and saw the man’s legs right in front of her, his dark pants reaching his flawlessly polished Italian leather shoes.
“W-who are you,” Clairiel stammered.
The man replied, “Actually, I believe you should tell me who you are and why you have invaded my domicile.”
Clairiel blurted out, “I have come to free the monkeys, why are you stealing them?”
The man laughed, “I am not stealing them, I am buying them.”
Clairiel’s emotions fully engaged now she demanded, “What sick things are you doing to them?”
The man became indignant, “Sick? Interesting choice of words from a woman hanging upside down, naked, being pleasured with fake hands held by monkeys. Sick indeed!”
She saw the man’s legs exit the room and heard the door slam. She then realized the monkeys had stopped their work and were sitting quietly in front of her, fake hands resting on the floor, looking at her … waiting.
Clairiel reached out to the closest one, “What has he done to you, you poor little things?”
The door opened and the man appeared to return.
“He trains them to provide special services for wealthy people. Some of them pay exorbitant amounts for these specially-conditioned monkeys.”
The voice was different, not the one of her captor from before. Clairiel felt the man unbuckling the inversion boots.
“Put your hands out lest you bust your head,” he advised.
Clairiel obeyed and broke her fall as the boots released her. It took just a moment but when she finally regained her wits the second man was gone. The monkeys continued looking at her, and she now noticed their eyes. They had no life. They weren’t the eyes of the monkeys she was use to seeing dancing for the organ grinders. Sadness fell on her heart.
“I will find a way to free you, little ones, whatever I must do.”
Clairiel was unsure, however, of what she would do next. She made for the door, opening it slowly, peering Bomonti travestileri outside. No one was in the hallway, so she ventured further, turning down the hall in the direction she thought she heard the footsteps take.
Clairiel came to an opening at the end of the hall. She could tell a large room lay just beyond. It was dark save for the solitary light in the center, and a man stood there with some sort of contraption. Thinking that maybe this was her captor she moved forward into the light, and realized it was Giuseppe. He was standing there, looking scared, with his organ. She noticed one other thing: he was wearing the same collar that she and the monkeys wore.
From behind her captor’s voice rang out, “Play for us Giuseppe, play.”
Giuseppe violently shook his head no, and Clairiel saw that he was very frustrated.
“Now, Giuseppe, you do want to see Marco, don’t you?”
Her captor snapped his finger and from the darkness a man appeared with Marco in his hands. Giuseppe’s face brightened momentarily, until he heard the cry of pain from Marco as the man squeezed the little monkey’s arm.
“No! Stop,” Giuseppe cried. Clairiel looked for her captor, but could only see his shoes. He was obviously sitting with one leg crossed over the other; one foot was moving back and forth.
“My men must have their reward, Giuseppe. Play!”
Giuseppe looked down, mumbled something, then said, “Forgive me Clairiel.”
Clairiel did not know what he meant, and she watched him intently as he slowly started to turn the crank on his organ. The music that came from the box was not the sort she expected to hear. It started soft, was not plucky like those she had heard before. Her captor began speaking as the old organ grinder continued turning the crank.
“So you are Clairiel. You are even more striking than the woman of the myth.”
Clairiel looked in his direction as she felt her body respond to the rhythms and vibrations coming from the old man’s organ.
Her captor continued, “I myself am a businessman, Clairiel, the kind that gets unusual things or services for those who have the means and the desires. The trained monkeys that you have met already are destined for a sexually perverse matriarch of a wealthy far-eastern family.”
Clairiel was now moving like a dancer within the light that surrounded Giuseppe. Her movements occasionally would take her near him, and she could see the strain building on his face, even as his eyes struggled to stay on his organ. She had long since overcome any embarrassment about being naked in front of others, but here, in front of the old man, she felt the redness build in her cheeks, dancing as she was, as a woman dances for a man. She was at once aware of her actions and their effect, and at the same time powerless to stop. She heard the murmuring coming from just outside the light and understood that several men were watching her. Several men were wanting her.
Her captor’s voice intruded again, “As you have no doubt realized, that is no ordinary organ. It was built to play the music from a long since lost ritual from the dark continent. The melody has an all too enchanting effect on certain, especially sensitive women. It is a personal favorite of mine and I have not been able to part with it, in spite of the many, many offers I have had for it.”
Clairiel now vividly felt the music, vibrating some unknown fibers deep within her. She began circling Giuseppe, slowly making her way out farther from him, out where the darkness overtook the light. And still Giuseppe cranked. If her captor was speaking now she could not hear him. The music was flowing into her, and her body was converting it into raw sexual energy. The captor barked, ordering one of his henchmen in closer. The man moved in to the edge of the darkness and awaited Clairiel. It Travesti bomonti is the one who freed her. He was naked. He was erect. As the music had affected Clairiel, so had she affected him. She began to gyrate towards the man, her moves becoming less a dance and more an unnecessary seduction. Her hands made contact with his chest at the same time her eyes met his.
The smoldering sexuality within her leaped to the man, meeting that which already existed within him. Clairiel slowly dropped to her knees, dragging her hands down his torso until they engulfed his cock.
The man shuddered.
Clairiel smiled.
Using her hands she directed his cock to her waiting tongue, beginning the assault on his senses. Unconcerned with any idea of modesty Clairiel eagerly slurped the member, aware of the sounds, aware of what the old man must think, aware of the view her current position afforded him. She arched her back, exhibiting the pure essence of her superheroine abilities. And still he cranked.
Clairiel licked the henchman from the base of his cock to the tip, maintaining eye contact all the while. She began leaning backward, further until she was lying flat on the floor. Her knees bent and in the air she slowly spread her legs, revealing to the man the source of her heat. Her hands on her knees, she beckoned him downward, slowly stroking her inner thighs downward to her pussy. Her eyes more than anything pulled him down to her. He could not control himself, and the beast she had conjured ravished the superheroine. Her body now moving with the pounding, the music still living within her, she sucked from the man any and all energy in his powerful body.
She fucked him on the cold concrete floor at the feet of Giuseppe.
She wrapped herself around the cock of the henchman, her moist pussy strangling him. She felt him weakening, she felt his cock throbbing, she felt his cum shoot deep within her. Still she milked him until he rolled off of her exhausted, unable to rise from the floor. And still Giuseppe cranked.
Clairiel felt another man climb between her legs, pawing her, reaching for her sex. She accommodated him as she did the other, accepting his cock within her superheated pussy. Almost immediately the man was overwhelmed, more being fucked by, rather than fucking Clairiel. Clearly the weaker the man soon expelled himself into Clairiel. The music drove her onward as she pushed him aside and took the next one, then the next one, each testing himself against the supervixen, each failing miserably. And still Giuseppe cranked.
Clairiel eyed the old man and noticed that he was cranking faster, and that he was now visibly hard. As the cocks continued their assault in her pussy, Clairiel watched Giuseppe watching her, cranking faster, affected by the nubile superheroine battling beneath him. Giuseppe cranked faster though no more men came. Clairiel undulated below him, faster and faster, until suddenly Giuseppe’s organ burst in to flames.
The music stopped, and entranced no longer Clairiel jumped into action. She located Marco, and reunited him with his owner and friend. Giuseppe, spent but thankful, had showered Clairiel with his appreciation. She grabbed Giuseppe’s hand and led him and Marco from the businessman’s lair, listening to the futile rantings of the defeated villain, his pleading for her to bring his monkey back. Safely down the street and back into the light Clairiel paused, satisfied that she had found Giuseppe’s monkey. She stood there still naked, the hairs above her pussy matted with a combination of sweat and cum, her pussy raw from the repeated intrusions, her nipples unexplainably still hard.
Giuseppe looked at her with a mixture of gratitude and fear, unable to say anything, unable to extract his gaze from her superheroine powers. Clairiel breathing the heavy breath of a just completed great exertion considered the old man, her friend, and the delicate situation they were now in. She felt they were on an edge, and the wrong move would take them to an unfamiliar place. She felt that edge, the uncomfortable yet somehow alluring edge.
She had been to unfamiliar places before.
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