A Plan Hatches

Fifteen minutes later, Daisy Halloran was groaning softly as Victoria wiped the dildo down and replaced it back in the bureau drawer. Daisy was struggling to get up, her poor pussy had been pounded to hell and back, and her hands were placed delicately over it while she slowly rose to a sitting position and sat on her knees, her face flushed, her hair a wild tangle of red after the vigorous punishment Victoria had just subjected her to. Pinkwell looked back at her and scowled, "What are you staring at?!" She snapped. Daisy's eyes went like saucers, and she stammered out a response. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I just was wondering if we were...done? Can I—" her gaze fell on her discarded clothes, gathered in a heap on the floor. "Can I get dressed?"

"Sure," Victoria replied. "Sans underwear."

"Sans...? Y—you want me to leave my panties?"

"D-d-did I stutter?" Victoria asked, mockingly. She slammed the drawer shut and rounded on Daisy, jabbing a finger right into one of those inverted nipples of hers, the sharp end of her nail digging into the little pocket of flesh on the spot where it would usually be protruding out from. Daisy's hands flew to her chest defensively, and again Victoria had to slap them away. "Keep doing stupid shit like that and ol' reliable over there comes back out," she gestured vaguely behind her to the bureau. "You remember what I said about where it goes next if you don't play nice?"

Daisy recoiled, her hands leaving her chest and clasping defensively over her arse crack. She nodded silently, adopting an apologetic look.

"Like I said: By all means, get dressed, but the 'Hello Kitty' knickers stay. Any problem with that?"

Daisy shook her head, then quietly untucked her legs out from under herself and slipped off the bed, walking naked as if on eggshells over to her clothes. Right away, Daisy was presented with a bit of a pickle: she would have to bend over to retrieve her clothes, but she had no desire to present herself like that to Victoria. If recent experiences had proven anything, it was that Pinkwell wasn't to be trusted around other people's exposed orifices when she was in a mood. Daisy looked fearfully back at Victoria, the picture of patheticness — nude and dishevelled, her hands feebly held behind her in an attempt to protect her backside from another attack. "I—I'm a little sore, Victoria...can I get some help picking these up?"

Victoria stared at her, an inscrutable expression on her face, and then it broke out into a congenial grin. "Oh, of course, Daisy. Anything for you." She shot Peter a glance and nodded to him, Peter — seated again in the creepy little chair in the corner — and he furrowed his brow in confusion. She nodded again, making a sweeping motion, and he rose to his feet, walking unsteadily over to Daisy, eyes fixed on Victoria the whole time. He stood a foot or two apart from Daisy, separated from her by the mound of her garments. He coughed awkwardly, and slapped his palms against his side, clearly unsure of what to do with himself.

"Pick them up, get in close, to make sure you get everything."

Peter took a step-and-a-half forward and dropped into a kneel, keenly aware that Daisy's pussy was right there in front of him if he only dared to look up. He started sifting through the clothes, realising a second too late that he was zeroing in on her panties. Victoria scoffed, "Of course you pick those up first."

Peter swallowed nervously, rubbing them gently between his fingers. He locked eyes with Daisy, and there was a familiar rubbing of one of her thighs against the other as something unspoken passed between them. Victoria caught it, and held out a hand. "Give them to me."

Peter dropped his gaze to the floor, and got back to his feet, shuffling over to Victoria to hand the Hello Kitty underwear in. Snatching them out of his palm, she stuffed them into her back pocket and beamed facetiously at him. He turned round and returned to kneel in front of the pile of clothes, again opposite Daisy and her fiery-crotch, a neat landing strip of red pubic hair painfully visible in his peripheral vision. He continued gathering them up, and when he had them gathered up in his arms, he lifted his head in preparation to get up. He was face to face now with Daisy's crotch, the slight tinge of pink on her outer labia blending beautifully with the vivid red of her pubic hair. Peter felt himself harden, and he quickly tried to look away, not wanting to anger his girlfriend further.

"Like what you see, Peter?" Victoria asked, sweetly.

Peter nodded, still gazing deep into Daisy's genitals.

"Why don't you sample her?"

Peter shook his head slowly, trying to restrain himself, but already feeling his self-control fading. "I—I wouldn't do that to you, babe."

"You sure?" Victoria pressed. "Are you sure you're sure?"

Peter's hands were shaking. He tried to rise to his full height and then stalled again as he arrived at her stunning tits, caught in a half-crouch so that they were at eye level. He stared into the soft recesses of her absentee nipples, secretly wondering what might happen if he just reached out with his tongue and—

Victoria let out a short, sharp laugh. "God, Peter. You're so fucking predictable, I could lead you straight down to hell by that prick of yours and you wouldn't have a thing to say about it as long as we passed by pretty girls on the way."

"That...that's not..."

"Don't insult my intelligence, Pete. You want to fuck her, you want to suck on those tits until her fucking nips pop out. So why don't you? Just do it; you know, actually—" She went back to the bureau and opened up the drawer. "Do it, or I'll shove this up her butt until she screams the place down, and then I'll move onto yours."

Peter was not one for pegging, or really any interaction between anyone else and his backside, so given the choice between satisfying his own sexual fantasy and having an unlubricated sex toy thrust up where the sun didn't shine, he felt the right option was fairly easy to discern. Daisy was frozen on the spot, her fingers had come up to play delicately against her breasts as Victoria had started talking about them, and now she was staring longingly into Peter's eyes, caught between the burning desire to be touched by him, and the uncomfortable circumstances under which it was now taking place. Peter opened his mouth, his pale pink tongue slithering out from between his lips, and he leant over to touch it to Daisy fucking Halloran's perfect fucking D-Cups. Victoria watched, and suppressed the urge to laugh again as it dawned on her that she'd ended up an observer in the end after all. The only thing missing, she thought, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed as Peter went in on Daisy's areola with his tongue, was her being sat in that chair...