They must complete the act.

David's companion turned her head slowly against the resistance of the glittering net. Her weight shifted on his lap and her vagina squeezed gently on his still-erect cock. When her eyes faced their captor, she sucked in her breath with a gasp.

"I'm sure that we can settle things more comfortably if the two of you complete the act," he rasped. "It will make things more...official, in a way. Nonna, come forward!" he called.

Another figure shuffled forward out of the darkness. When the pool of the spotlight illuminated the figure, David saw it was an old woman wrapped in a black cloak. "Maestro?" she inquired of the tall one.

"Your cord," he said.

She pulled a coarse rope end from under her cloak and tittered. "Oh, how they will dance!" she cried.

David shivered. His cock swelled involuntarily inside the young woman, and she squeezed back. A drop of her warm fluid rolled down his balls.

"Not the hemp, the silk," the tall one ordered.

"Ah..." she whined. She tucked away the coarse rope and pulled out a cord. It was smooth and shiny, red shot with gold, and glittered in the spotlight. She formed it into a large loop with a slipknot, and held it ready with both hands.

"Crown! Crutch!" the tall one called. Two burly chainmailed figures stepped up from the direction of the spotlight. "Lift the net."

The two lifted the net at one edge and peeled it back. David breathed in and prepared for a desparate bolt into the shadows. As the net cleared David's knee, he felt the pins and needles of returning sensation and a wash of warmth. The sharp warm tingling flowed up his arm and side to his shoulder. As the net left his head, his vision faded into dazzling sparkles.

The old woman cackled at his elbow. David's eyes cleared only to see a red loop descending over him and his companion. He'd rescued her only to get them captured by the nymphs' and now captured again.

The old woman tugged the slack out of the red cord, pulling David and the woman together, chest to chest. The cord felt warm, slippery, alive, and gained heat as she tugged it tight. She chanted slowly in a guttural voice. David's cock swelled. His companion squirmed and rolled her shoulders. She ground her hips down into David and moaned.

The old woman's chant grew louder and clearer, and David could make out words here and there. "Io Pan, Io Pan, Pan Pangenitor, Pan Panphalle..." she chanted. It was all Greek to David, but nevertheless it shook him to his bones. His hips thrust up at the woman grinding down at him. He forgot the world, forgot the bystanders, forgot all but the chant, the hot red cord on his back and the woman riding his cock.

Her hips shook and her opening squeezed David's cock again. A moan fought its way out through her lips and rose to a cry. "Uh...uh...uh uh ahhAHHHH!" She thrashed atop him. David encircled her with his arms and rose to his own climax. A galvanic shock shot from the base of his cock to the red cord. His legs kicked out, knocking the two of them sprawling but still connected, tied together by the old woman's red cord. The old witch was laughing at them.

Waves of sensation flooded him. He could still feel his companion bound against him, belly to belly, chest to chest. Still climaxing, he wrestled for freedom, but the red cord bound him fast. His senses faded as he relaxed. Sleep claimed him.