Peter Priper Ch. 05

Retta needed a bath. Luckily, there was a bathhouse nearby. I was enjoying the walk over there. My dick was swaying around half-mast, almost like a normal person. Ever since I got here - wherever here was, which I wasn't sure about - I'd ranged between 'hard' and 'aching hard'. All it took was maybe a dozen orgasms, topped off with a solid assfucking, and I was pretty much worn out.

Poor Retta wasn't having such a good time. She was so exhausted she could barely walk. After about a hundred yards I took pity and carried her. She was sticky all over, and stank of jizz. I tried not to think about how many men must have used her. She must have been on her hands and knees for hours, a cock in her mouth, one in her pussy. Probably one in her ass at the same time. For hours.

And just from imagining what she must have done, by the time we reached the bathhouse there was no more half-mast. My cock was sticking straight forward again like a signpost on the road to ruin.

The bathhouse was pretty much an onsen, but without all the privacy. The front doors opened right into the changerooms. They were segregated, men on one side and women on the other, but from the front desk you could see into both. While the girls filled out forms at the front desk - Violet and I needed temporary Heart membership or something like that - I watched this luscious bubble-butted girl in the women's changeroom rub lotion all over herself. Retta was so tired she sat down on the floor in front of me. She leaned against my legs and I rested my erection on her head. Couldn't hurt. There was come in her hair already.

The baths were just outside the changerooms. There was a steaming hot bath the size of a pool, and a cold bath the same size on the other side. The whole compound was just enclosed by a railing, which gave us an unimpeded view of the lake. And gave anyone walking down the path an unimpeded view of the naked Hearts within. There was a lot of foot traffic there. A lot of people with their phones out, having conversations that involved suspiciously little talking.

I lay in the hot bath and watched the girls wipe themselves down. My erection bobbed up and down in the water. It was throbbing - it almost hurt, I was so aroused. Millie and Violet had their arms wrapped around each other. They were soapy, and sort of technically washing, but they mostly whispered to each other with their noses about a quarter-inch apart. Trudy brought her purse out to the bath with her. She stripped naked, putting her clothes away in her purse. Then she bent over and fished around until she found a monogrammed washcloth. She extended her hand to Retta. "Trudy Mulheimer, erotic hygienist."

"Retta Bergson," said Retta gravely, and shook her hand.

Trudy lathered Retta up from head to toe and scrubbed her down. She spent a lot of time between Retta's legs, which I guess must have been pretty dirty. Though from the panting and moaning, I'm guessing Retta came twice.

After the girls rinsed off, we had smoothies. It turned out the whole time I was sitting four feet from the smoothie bar and I never noticed.

Retta had the most unbelievable endurance of any girl I've seen. By the time she was done her smoothie she seemed completely rejuvenated. Before we left she swam over to me and kissed the tip of my cock. "I'll wash this for you."

"Sure," I said, "if you want."

"So it doesn't get itchy. Soap gives cocks a rash, so they have to be washed with saliva. Or at least that's what someone told me last time I was here."

"Yes," I said. "That is completely true." And she took me in her mouth and ran her lips up and down my dick and stroked me with her tongue. I kneaded her breasts in my hands until I came. And I made sure her back was turned before giving my dick a quick wash.

Afterwards we sat in a little gazebo drinking wine. The girls were wrapped in towels that barely came down to the bottoms of their asses. If Retta bent over - even when she climbed the steps into the gazebo - the little curves of the bottoms of her buttocks came into view. Trudy was shorter, so her towel covered more. When she sat down, she tried to be a bit discreet, but in such a little towel the skin over her lips was right there in the open. Violet kept her legs squeezed tight together. Millie's pussy was practically hanging right out, though Violet had a hand on her thigh most of the time, which partially blocked the view. The two of them didn't even finish their wine before they disappeared somewhere together.

I noticed all that. Also apparently there was a wine bar or something, but I have no idea. It was probably above waist level.

We finished off the bottle of wine and Retta went off to the desk for more. She came back with what looked like an empty bottle. "The guy wasn't there, so I just grabbed this one off the shelf."

Trudy rolled her eyes. "It's empty, you twit." She took it from Retta and peered at the label. "No, it isn't a wine bottle. It's a genie bottle."

"Really?"

"Says right here. 'Ingredients: One genie.'"

Retta took the bottle back from her. "So you rub the bottle until the genie comes out, right?" She put her fingers around the neck of the bottle and stroked it up and down, first slowly, then more quickly. Nothing happened to the genie bottle, but I felt like I was going to come in my towel. "It's not working."

Trudy cleared her throat. "Trudy Mulheimer, genealogist."

"For fuck's sake," I said. "That's not what that word means."

"You shut up. Retta, the problem here is that you need to lubricate the bottle before you rub it."

"Oh." Retta looked around to see if there was any lubricant. I was going to offer semen, but that seemed crass. She shrugged and started running her tongue all over the neck of the bottle. Then she put it in her mouth, sliding it in and out slowly. After several minutes of this she took it out and looked slantwise at it. "Still nothing."

Trudy rubbed her chin. "It looks like you're going to have to fuck the bottle."

"Okay," said Retta. "If I have to. I'm not ready, though. I mean, it's a fine bottle and all, but it just doesn't turn me on."

My raging boner pulled me out of my seat. "I'll help."

Trudy pushed me back down. "Leave this to the professionals."

"Professionals?"

She snorted, reached into her purse, and handed me a business card. It read "TRUDY MULHEIMER, B.S., M.D., D.Phil. LISENCED CUNNILINGUIST."

"This might be convincing," I said, "if you could spell."

Trudy flipped me off and knelt down in front of Retta, who undid her towel and opened her legs. Retta closed her eyes and panted as Trudy licked her pussy. I sat there and stared. I wasn't going to jerk off. I was determined not to jerk off.

Trudy sat up and handed Retta the bottle. Retta put one leg up on the bench, her pussy spread completely open, and started working the bottle into it. She moaned as she fucked herself.

I sat down next to Trudy on the floor, just a few feet from Retta's pussy. "There's a genie in my cock," I whispered. "You should suck it out."

"Not going to miss this," Trudy whispered back. But she was nice enough to put her hand on my towel and give me a few strokes. I caressed her back and her legs as she did, working my way towards her pussy. Which when I got there turned out to already be full of Trudy's own fingers. "Do you mind?" she whispered. "I'm trying to masturbate."

"I was aiming for not masturbating."

"If you want to help, you can play with my tits and tell me how awed you are by my intellectual prowess."

I undid her towel and fondled her pert little breasts. "I am awed by your intellectual prowess."

"In a less sarcastic tone of voice, thank you."

Retta pulled out the bottle and sighed. "Still nothing."

"Hm," said Trudy. "Maybe the bottle's into anal."

"Trudy, I am awed by your intellectual prowess." I shook my head. "But now let's try pulling out the damn cork."

"Oh, good idea," said Retta.

It took her a few minutes to work the cork out, given that the bottle was soaked with spit and juices. A wisp of green smoke emerged from the bottle, and then more, until there was a huge roiling green cloud in the middle of the gazebo.

Trudy and I backed away, and she hurriedly tied her towel back on. "Beginner's luck," she said with a snort.

The smoke coalesced into a woman. She was very tall, with long brown hair. Her face was covered by a veil, so that all you could see were her green eyes. She wore a dress with slits that went up the sides past her waist, and cleavage that went past her belly button. Or at least I think it was a dress. It might have just been a couple of strategically-draped silk scarves.

"I am the genie of the bottle," she said. "For freeing me from my imprisonment, I will grant you three wishes."

"I wish for my erection to go away," I said.

"I wish to be more smart," said Retta.

Trudy frowned. "I wish I could think of something good."

The genie's eyes smiled. She reached out and touched the end of my dick with her fingers. It bobbed up and down in the air. "Sorry. Those aren't the three wishes I'll grant."

"Wait, what?" I said.

She put an arm around me, her face so close to mine I could feel her breath coming from under her veil. She pulled her dress aside and on tiptoe, slid herself on top of my erection, her pussy rubbing against me. "Your third wish is to fuck a beautiful genie."

"I'm fine with that," I said.

"But that's your third wish." She pulled away from me. "Your first wish is to be blindfolded and handcuffed."

And suddenly my hands were immobilized behind my back, and I couldn't see a thing. "What the hell?"

"And your second wish," went the genie's voice, "is to be hunted by ferocious Clubs."

Trudy and Retta gasped. "Not ferocious Clubs!"

"I'll see you later. If you survive." The genie's footsteps went down the steps. A minute or so later they pittered back up, very quickly. "Sorry. I need that bottle back."

Once I was sure she was gone, I said, "That genie sucks."

"Very well, or so I've heard," said Trudy.

"Are you all blindfolded and cuffed too?"

"Yep," said Trudy.

"I'm not sure," said Retta. "I can't see any blindfold."

"We have to get out of here," said Trudy.

"What are ferocious Clubs?" I asked.

"They're terrible," said Trudy. "Very ferocious."

I wiggled around behind me, trying to reach my cuffs. They felt fuzzy. "You think these might have a safety catch or something?"

Somebody bumped into me. I felt a breast against my arm. "Who's that?"

"It's Trudy." She turned around. "See if you can reach my cuffs and open them."

We got back-to-back, and I bent down to reach her handcuffs. I fumbled around, trying to get to them. She kept spitting advice at me. "That's my wrist, lower. No, that's my finger. Higher. No, that's my ass. Peter, you did that on purpose. Quit being an idiot."

"Quit being an arrogant bitch."

She sighed. "I'll have to do this myself. You're an amateur."

"Wait, I think I might have found the catch."

"No, that's enough!" She jerked away suddenly. There was a muffled sound. "Oh my God. My towel just fell off, didn't it?"

"How should I know?" I backed up and felt around until I hit bare ass. "Yep. It's off."

"Now look what you've done. And quit groping me." She sighed.

"I can do this," said Retta. We could hear her jumping up and down. There was another muffled sound. "Got it!"

"You're out of your cuffs?" said Trudy.

"No, I got my towel off. Isn't that what we're doing?"

"I am surrounded by morons," said Trudy. Then she whispered, "Shit! I hear voices."

"Is it the ferocious Clubs?" said Retta.

"Keep your voice down! We have to get out of here. Where's my purse?"

"Forget your purse," I said.

"I need it!"

I could hear her pacing around bumping into things.

"Here it is," she said. "But I can't pick it up. Peter, come and help me! They're coming!"

I followed her voice until my dick hit something soft.

"That's my ass, Peter. Grab my purse."

I felt around for it.

"That's my ass again, dipshit."

I found her purse. I couldn't quite reach it from behind me, so I bent over and managed to get a strap between my teeth. Someone grabbed my cock and led me off. "Watch the steps," Trudy's voice said as we left the gazebo. So she was the one holding my cock-gently, careful not to pull on it, just stroking it as a symbol to go forward.

A branch or something smacked me in the face. It hurt a bit, but it did loosen my blindfold. I started shaking my head, trying to dislodge it. The voices were getting louder.

"I'll get us out of this," said Trudy. "I just need to get into my purse." I bent over and dropped it on the ground, then heard her wriggling around inside it. There was a thump. "Oh, shit!"

"What happened?"

"I fell in."

"How do you fall in your own purse?"

"I was leaning over backwards trying to reach in, and I slipped. My arms are stuck. Peter, you have to pull me out."

I squatted down. It was awkward, not being able to use my hands, and not being able to see what I was doing. My cock hit something.

"Did you just stick your dick in my face?" said Trudy.

"I don't know," I said. "I can't see dick." I had to turn around, but first I wanted to know where that purse was. I felt around for it with my knees. My penis kept hitting something. Probably Trudy's face, from all the muttered swearing.

"Do you need any help?" said Retta. "Where are you?" And something smacked into my face. I smelled - definitely pussy. I gave it a little lick. Very tasty pussy.

Retta giggled.

"Quit fucking around and help me out of this!" Trudy hissed.

"Sorry." I bent over and tried to find the purse, and my cock slid into something wet and soft. Trudy mumbled something I couldn't hear. I wiggled around. Something hard on the side there? Oh, I got it. Teeth. I pulled out.

"I said," said Trudy, "get your dick out of my mouth!"

"Sorry." I finally found the purse. I tried to memorize where it was. Then I turned around and felt behind me for Trudy's shoulder.

"A little over," she said. "That's my tit."

"Wait - you sure?" I rubbed at it. "Yeah, I think you're right. That's a nipple there, which means this must be tit."

"As soon as I get my hands free I am so slapping you."

"Better keep it down," said Retta. "Those people are coming closer."

"We're going to get caught here long before this doofus gets me out," said Trudy. "Retta, can you find your way back to the gazebo?"

"I think so."

"You're going to have to hold the ferocious Clubs off. Then we'll come save you as soon as I'm free."

Retta inhaled. "Okay. I can do that." I heard her pushing through the bushes. "I'll take one for the team." Somebody said something I didn't catch, and somebody else replied. "Take more than one for the team," she said.

I got hold of Trudy's arm and tried pulling her up. It was hard; I couldn't get a good grip or any leverage. I heard Retta climb the steps of the gazebo.

"You can't go past," she said, her voice trembling a bit.

"Who are you?" said a male voice.

"I'm someone who's going to stop you from getting past. You won't do ferocious things to my friends."

"Do ferocious things to your friends?" said another voice.

"Over my exhausted limp body, you will!" said Retta with bravado.

Someone else went up the steps. "Sure," said a man. "I mean, shit. Naked and handcuffed and blindfolded and what kind of ferocious things were you talking about?"

"Ones you won't do to my friends," said Retta, and suddenly moaned.

"I promise we won't do anything to your friends."

"That's all I want," said Retta. "Have your way with me if you must, but leave them alone."

"Well, if we must," said another voice. Several more sets of feet went up the stairs. I couldn't tell quite how many.

"Peter!" said Trudy. "Hurry up!"

I pulled hard and lost my grip and toppled over forwards. My blindfold was really getting loose. On my hands and knees I bowed my head and shook it until it was off. Behind me, Trudy was sprawled on her back on top of her purse, her arms lodged in its top up past the elbows. Her legs were splayed, and her pussy was glistening. "Where'd you go?" she whispered. "Come back here and help me!"

In front of me, I could see through the bushes to the gazebo. Retta was on her knees, blindfolded, surrounded by five boys. They were pushing their cocks at her face, and she would suck on one until another managed to squeeze its way to her lips. Hands ran all over her.

A boy lay down on his back, and the others pushed her down on top of him. She gasped, then started riding him gamely.

"Fuck, she's tight," said the boy. "These Hearts are always so tight."

"It's all the kegels," Retta managed to say before another cock was shoved in her mouth.

They were lifting her off that boy and pushing her down on another when Trudy found me with her foot and started kicking. "What the hell's going on over there? Help me, dipshit!"

I backed up, not taking my eyes off Retta. God, I needed to touch myself, or have someone touch me. My dick was so hard it ached. It felt like my head was trying to stretch to the sun. It was seriously so hard it was pointing upward, not out. I managed to find Trudy's body with my fingers.

"That's my tit again," said Trudy.

Another boy squatted down behind Retta. He nosed his cock against her asshole.

"Asshole!" Trudy whispered. "I'm stuck here and it is very uncomfortable! Don't just play with my tit!"

"Sorry," I said. The third boy was halfway in. He started drumming on Retta's back, and the boy on the bottom took up the rhythm on her thighs. "You thrust on the high-hat!" said the boy on top, and they started fucking her like pistons in an engine, back and forth. Retta gasped. "So full," she moaned.

"People say I look a lot like Chris Hemsworth," said the guy in Retta's ass. "Just in case you were wondering."

"No, you don't, you liar," I couldn't help saying.

"You're still playing with my tit," said Trudy. "And what are you muttering about?"

I sighed and tried to concentrate. I closed my eyes, briefly at least, and found Trudy's shoulder. She was sweaty, and it was hard to pull her up. I managed to get hold of her upper arm.

"Ow!" Trudy gasped. "Not so hard!"

One of the boys (who didn't look much like Chris Hemsworth either) glanced at the bushes. "What's going on over there?"

"Don't look over there!" said Retta. "It's a makeup diversion."

"What?" said the boy. "Did you just say you're making a diversion?"

"No, I, um, said, um." Retta was apparently finding it even harder than usual to think. "Come on my face?"

The three remaining boys who weren't fucking her stood around Retta's face. One would fuck her mouth while the other two stroked themselves, and then they would push her head over to someone else.

The boy on the bottom sighed. "I did not need this view of all y'all's balls."

I managed to get a good grip on Trudy, and then I stood up. She came up with me and wiggled until she shook herself free of the purse. "Finally," she said.

"You're welcome. That wasn't easy."

"That's because you're not a professional. Trudy Mulheimer, escape artist."

"Not this again."

"In my hand I have a little bottle of Ultimate Escape Oil. Squirt it on anything and it becomes super-lubricated. Anything will slip out. I just pop off the top and squirt a little on my wrists and then I - " The open bottle slipped out of her fingers, and when she tried to grab it, it squirted on her ass. "Dammit!" She fiddled with it, and it squirted again, leaving a trail that ran down between her cheeks. "It's - oh, shit." The bottle popped out of her fingers and landed on the ground. "Oh, fuck. Where did it go?"

"I'll find it. I got my blindfold off."

"Wait, when was that?"