Three Cousins
by Jed --  JedVenturer@yahoo.com
Can he escape the deadly intentions of his three beautiful teenaged cousins?


As soon as he entered the small room, he became acutely aware of the cotton
rope coiled in his back pocket. It burned against his hip, inanimately aware
of the young girl sprawled in the overstuffed chair in the corner.

She was the reason he had brought the rope, although he had never laid eyes on
her before. But he had hoped - had known - that someone just like this sweet
young thing would be here, bored and desultory, curious and not terribly
prudent in her choice of playmates.

He had grabbed the soft chord at the last minute as he dashed out to Jed's
car, visions of slim ankles and sinewy wrists in his head. "A family reunion,"
Jed had said; "hundreds of people, most of them strangers to one another." Jed
had not been anxious to face his large and unknown extended family alone, and
so he had agreed reluctantly to come along. Now, seeing the tall and leggy
teenager in her high-cut pink bikini, he was suddenly very glad he had come.
And doubly glad he had given Jed the slip as he wandered through the lodge.

The room was a library, with built-in bookshelves, dark paneling, a couple of
very comfortable chairs and an old couch. It was small - intimate, even - and
had a single heavy-paned window overlooking a broad lawn. The sounds of the
party were dim and far away.

"What are you doing all by yourself," he said casually, crossing to the window
and looking out. In reality, he was watching the girl. She was slouched down
in her chair, staring into space, her hands on the arms of the chair and her
legs apart. Her long, slender and elegant legs. She had a mane of wild
semi-curly hair cascading over her shoulders, small but pert breasts, a flat
stomach, and a pouty, petulant look that screamed "defiance". She looked
fifteen - he mentally adjusted her age closer to sixteen or seventeen, and
felt instantly better about his intent. No matter her age - those legs, those
inner thighs, drove all other considerations from his mind.

She looked at him and snorted. Then she turned to face him, crossing one
elegant leg over the other. Her hips were smooth and sleek. He imagined the
rope in his pocket, securely tied around her wrists, slipped between her
sinewy thighs, traversing the triangular pink material covering her womanhood,
and circling her taut, slim waist.

"This party blows," she said.

"You go swimming?"

She looked at him with contempt, indicating her bikini with a thinly-veiled
are-you-dense look on her face.

"You looking for something to do?"

"Not with you."

He shrugged, pulling the cotton rope out of his pocket. "Fair enough." He
started playing cat's- cradle with the thin rope, swiftly creating complex
designs in the air between his hands. In seconds, a stylized cat appeared in
the weave between his hands; a few deft moves, and the cat became a star and
crescent moon; he looked at her intently, worked a little harder, and an
outline of a girl sunk in a chair appeared, outlined in white rope.

She watched this new apparition with a cocked eyebrow and almost the hint of a
smile, but no other sign of softening.

"Wow - that's cool," a new voice interjected. He looked toward the door, and
revised his estimation of the situation. Standing in the door was another
girl, perhaps a little older than Pink-Bikini. This one was also tall, half a
head taller than he, with long, athletically toned legs and a lushly curved
figure. Her breasts strained the material of her one-piece bathing suit. She
had long, thick honey-blond hair, pulled back in a pony-tail behind her head.

"That's really cool," she repeated, striding smoothly into the room and
reaching one hand out to his latest creation. "Can I try it?"

"Sure," he offered, feasting his eyes on the gentle rise and fall of her
breasts as she breathed. As she reached for the cat's-cradle, her shoulders -
firmly muscled, swimmer's shoulders - pulled her swimsuit up tight against her
crotch -- an unbelievably inviting mound between athletically rounded thighs.

Gently, he transferred the cat's cradle to the girl's outstretched hands,
making the critical adjustments as he did so that would provide the wonderful
surprise he had in mind for her. Once, that is, he got rid of Pink-Bikini and
could be alone with the curvy Blond.

"What's going on in here," came a third voice. He looked again to the door,
this time in annoyance. Another girl stood in the doorway, this one a tall,
slender brunet wearing faded jeans and a white sweatshirt. The sweatshirt was
thick and baggy, but judging by the way it hung on and around her, she was
tautly slim, with high, firm and generous breasts. She looked older than the
other two - making her perhaps nineteen. She had a fresh-scrubbed coed's
sexiness about her that he liked.

"This guy has an amazing cat's cradle, Kristi, and he's letting me play with
it," the blond said.

"Yeah, and it's gonna grab her as soon as he pulls on that loop down there,"
Pink-Bikini said. He started for just a moment before regaining his composure.
Pink-Bikini had been right - with a tug at the loop of chord dangling from the
Blonde's hands, the cat's cradle would have tightened smoothly around her
hands and wrists, binding her hands before her.

"Oh, is that what that does?" he said wonderingly, pretending to really notice
it for the first time.

The Blond shrugged, nearly coming out of her swimsuit as she did so. "I would
have thought you would go for a behind-the-back wrap; something a little more
stimulating."

"I think he would have been able to do a reverse hog-tie with that knot,"
Pink-Bikini said. "Tie your hands to your ankles - maybe tie your elbows to
your knees." The blond looked at him with new respect - and interest.

Their blas‚ attitude toward his attempted binding of them was encouraging, but
he decided to play it cool for a little while longer. "I'm pretty new at this
game -"

The brunet - Kristi - laughed. "Well, we're not. Karen, let me have the rope."
The blond tossed the chord to her, and she stuffed it in the back pocket of
her jeans. Then the blond - Karen - settled back into the couch, pulling her
feet up beneath her, leveling a direct and appraising gaze at him. Pink-Bikini
smirked, reaching one foot out to nudge his leg. "We were on to you the whole
time," she murmured.

Kristi put her back to the door and leaned, pushing it shut. Then she reached
down behind her, turned the key, and removed it from the lock. "Buddy," she
said, "you're a bullshitter. But that's okay. This party was getting boring,
and my cousins and I - " indicating the other two girls, who both nodded and
waved daintily - "were looking for diversion.

"Now here's the deal," she continued. "You can have your rope back, and any
one of us three to play with, if you can take it - and the key - away from me
and get out of the room." Then, in the single sexiest action he had ever seen
a woman do with her clothes on, she slipped the key into the right front
pocket of her tight jeans. Then she stood there waiting, her hands stuffed in
the pockets of her jeans, a confident smile on her face.

This was something new. He would get to wrestle the tall brunet, get into her
jeans, literally, for the key and rope, and then get to use the rope on
Pink-Bikini. As luscious as Karen was, he had already decided he liked the
"bookends" effect of wrestling the oldest of the three and the youngest --
both ends of the teen-years spectrum.

"You're on," he said, moving in swiftly. The other two girls watched as he
reached out for Kristi and she ducked under his arm. He feinted right, she
went left, and he stepped behind her, both arms circling her body, trapping
her arms against her sides. She squealed as he lifted her off her feet,
copping a surreptitious feel of her breasts as he squeezed; she had wonderful,
firm breasts, proudly free beneath the baggy sweatshirt.

He set her down, leaning on her back to force her over and pull her butt into
his crotch. Not much of an ass - more athletically flat and firm than
pear-shaped like her cousins - but she was sweetly taut in his arms, all arms
and legs and twisting turning body -- and he was instantly hard.

He squeezed her in his arms, and he could tell he was having an effect on her.
She lifted her feet from the floor, hanging in his arms, trying to force him
to let go - instead, he lowered her to the carpet, his body draped over hers
as his hands searched fumblingly for her jeans pocket - she squealed again as
his fumbling fingers found her crotch instead. She closed her thighs on his
hands - a strong embrace, and he had to struggle to pull his hands free. "Not
bad," he breathed, as she curled up in a ball to protect the key. He forced
his hand in the front pocket, reaching with his fingertips for the key as he
moved his fingers along her thigh toward her crotch. "Almost there," he said,
and they both knew he wasn't referring to the key.

"You think? Try this," she said with a smile, spinning on her back and placing
both feet on his chest. He froze for a moment as he realized what was coming;
she smiled broadly and suddenly straightened her legs, launching him into the
air. He had realized his mistake too late - 'she maneuvered me into this
position,' he thought - and then he was flying backward from the force of her
kick. He landed on the edge of the couch, slumping to the floor, no serious
damage done.

He looked up. She was standing bent over, catching her breath. She flashed him
another toothy grin - point to her.

"Nice trick," he offered, rising to his feet - but only a little bit as his
head was suddenly clasped in a velvety soft but firm embrace. Karen's legs had
come out from under her and smoothly wrapped around his head; Kristi had
kicked him to a spot right at her feet. He fell back down to a sitting
position, with Karen's gorgeous sculpted thighs around his head. She rolled
back on her hips, pulling him back against the couch. Then, as he reached up
to her legs, the sensuous embrace became a powerful vise; the pressure was
instantly agonizing as Karen's powerful legs tensed and tightened, all the
force of her muscles applied mercilessly against him. Her muscular thighs
seemed about to split his head apart.

He grabbed at her knees, trying to pry them apart - the muscles of her legs
were rock-hard, and it was difficult even to get a grip on her. His fingers
scrabbled at her skin as she continued to bear down. He saw red, and realized
she could crush his skull if he didn't escape her vice-like embrace.

He looked up. Karen had curled over him, her breasts nearly touching the top
of his head, and she was smiling beatifically down at him. She was enjoying
this, barely breaking a sweat. In desperation, he released her leg with on
hand and grabbed wildly upward. He felt her throat against his palm and
squeezed.

Karen tried to pull back, but he held on to her throat with all his strength.
She started to choke, and grasped his wrist with both hands. Still he applied
his own pressure, struggling at the same time to remain conscious under the
relentless onslaught of her constrictor thighs.

Suddenly the awful pressure on his head eased and the girl slumped over him.
He released his hold on her throat and leaned forward, holding his throbbing
head. Karen slipped off the couch, coming to a sitting position on the ground
between his body and the couch, her legs splayed on either side of him and her
head resting against his back. He patted her knee affectionately, enjoying the
pressure of her firm breasts against his back. "That was incredible," he
croaked. Karen lazily wrapped her legs around his waist, her crossed ankles
resting in his lap. He felt her nod against his shoulder blades.

Kristi chose this moment to re-appear, plopping her full weight down on his
lap. With a mischievous grin she grabbed his shoulders and peered into his
face. "You guys were great together," she said. "And that gave me an idea."
Her hands slid down his arms to his wrists and she leaned forward, drawing his
hands behind his back.

As Kristi leaned forward, so did he, burying his face in her full, high
breasts, and he didn't notice that her hands had been joined by two others on
his wrists. As he reveled in the firmness of her lovely full breasts against
his face, he didn't feel until too late the soft touch of cotton on his
wrists. He pulled his hands away, but it was no good - Kristi had bound his
hands behind his back with his own rope. What's more, she had tied his hands
behind Karen's back. He realized he was in a precarious position again, with
his hands bound and Karen's powerful legs now encircling his body. Karen
clasped her hands over his face and pulled his head back against her breasts.
He was now sitting between her thighs, with his hands bound behind her back,
his arms uselessly encircling her hard body.

Kristi leaned back, and he turned his head against Karen's breasts. "Looks
like we're in this together, kid," he whispered, playfully squeezing his arms
against her sleek sides. She smiled, responding with a squeeze of her thighs
around his torso.

"Okay, I give," he announced to Kristi. "You've got me tied up with your
cousin here - you win. Now what?"

"Now it's Sharon's turn," Kristi replied, nodding her head toward Pink-Bikini.
The girl still sat slouched in the easy chair, knees aimed at him, eyes dark
and liquid and deadly.

"I thought you didn't want to do anything with me," he teased her, his arousal
increasing.

"I don't -- not with you. To you," she corrected him quietly, leaning forward,
her hair falling around her face. He felt an illicit thrill as she stood and
stretched, a lithe wild-child with the body of a woman. A slim, tautly-curved,
and predatory woman.

She squatted beside him, legs apart; he couldn't take his eyes from the thin
triangle of shimmering pink stretched taut over her womanhood. As he stared,
she unfastened his jeans and pulled them down to his ankles.

"Going commando, I see," Kristi said sardonically.

Now exposed to the air and under scrutiny, he felt himself shrinking. Then
Sharon knelt beside him again. "Sit on his feet," she told Kristi. Kristi
knelt over his ankles, her knees clamped against his legs.

"Every time he makes a sound, tighten around him," Sharon said to Karen. He
felt the blond nod. "But don't break more than one rib at a time, okay?"
Sharon continued. Again, Karen nodded, and again he felt a thrill. This was
incredible.

The young girl stared into his eyes, holding his gaze. He felt her touch, very
lightly, on his stomach. "This is illegal already, in some states," she said
with a cold smile.

Any response died in his throat when he looked into her eyes. Unlike the older
girls, this one had a scarey-crazy look, as if she were far away. Any fun she
had in mind would be fun only for her.

Still he smiled at her; "I won't tell if you won't." At his first word,
Karen's muscular legs tightened their hold on his body. He loved the firm
strength of her embrace. Steel sheathed in velvet, hot- blooded power. It was
incredibly erotic.

Sharon's hand slid down his stomach, toward his crotch. "I would save my
breath, if I were you," she offered. Her hand, warm and soft, rested gently on
his member. He felt himself stirring anew under her touch, and his breath
caught in his throat. She smiled again, her fingers curling around his manhood
as it responded. He groaned softly.

And the grip of his captor's legs around him tightened. He shifted
uncomfortably - each time Karen tightened around him she stayed tight, never
backing off again; she was giving him a stitch in his side, now.

Still Sharon gently manipulated him, a faint smile playing about her lips, and
he felt his manhood growing harder, more urgent. At one point he groaned in
pleasure, and was rewarded with a tightening that took his breath away - and
did not relent.

"Too tight," he grunted - and Karen's legs tightened again. Her thigh muscles
were rock-hard, clenched around him, and for the first time he felt a twinge
of something other than arousal.

Then Sharon's hand moved away from his throbbing member, slipping down to
cradle his balls gently. She suddenly had his undivided attention. She looked
at him, smiled in almost a friendly way, and gave his balls a tender squeeze.

A cry wrenched itself from his throat and he tried to sit bolt upright, but
his hands were still bound behind Karen's back, and Karen's legs still held
him against her front - and her legs tightened now, cruelly fastening around
him. He tried to push away with his feet, but Kristi's legs were wrapped
around his, and he could not lift them. He felt the bile rise in his throat,
and then

Sharon smiled and then

Sharon closed her hand swiftly in a fist

And he screamed. His scream ended in a gurgle as he felt a sharp ripping pain
in his side and Karen whispered "one rib at a time". He sobbed, or tried to,
but he could not fill his lungs with air against the almost-constant
compression now from the powerful girl in whose embrace he was prisoner.

"You - awful - person," he gasped, with each word feeling the constriction of
Karen's legs increase, and on "person" he felt another rib give way. Something
liquid sloshed in his belly, and he began to feel heavy and wet inside.

Sharon smiled, cuddling up to him, her legs curled on his lap, her hands on
his chest. "You're not very resilient, are you," she cooed. "Other guys have
lasted much longer than you before crying." Her hand strayed again to his
crotch. She gave his organ an affectionate and gentle squeeze, then gathered
his member and his balls together, hesitated briefly, then tightened her grip
convulsively. Every muscle in her slender arm tensed as she closed her hand
around him.

And held her grip.

His scream was cut short by the next rib breaking as Karen's python-like
thighs constricted swiftly and inexorably around him. Sharon released her grip
on his agonized genitals.

"Please let me go," he whispered, and he felt the world begin to close in on
him, from lack of oxygen in his lungs and the rising tide of blood in his gut.
"Please let me -"

"All you had to do was ask," Sharon said, and rose to her feet. She leaned
forward, placing the silky triangle of pink cloth stretched taut over her sex
gently against his face. He turned his face slowly, even in his pain
luxuriating in the velvety soft skin of her inner thighs. "No biting," she
said, "or I'll make it take a very long and painful time." Then she leaned
against him, gently grinding her womanhood against him, covering his nose and
mouth with the cool, slick material of her bikini. Beneath the thin cloth he
felt her softness, the lips slightly pursed, then yielding. He struggled
briefly the first time he could not draw breath past the enveloping softness
of her; she pushed harder against him and he sank more deeply into her, the
cool material stretched over his mouth and nose, her softness all around him.
His lungs cried out for an instant in agony, then just as quickly stopped
their complaints as dull darkness descended on him. . .

"Those girls have caught themselves another one," Uncle Carl remarked when the
first scream echoed through the lodge. "Any idea who the unlucky boy might be,
Jed?"

Standing there with a cold beer in his hand, Jed smiled. "I find it prudent
these days to arrange a diversion for my cousins," he replied. "They've taken
entirely too much notice of me at the last couple of reunions, and to tell you
the truth, they're much too cute for me to be able to resist them for long."

Uncle Carl nodded sagely; "prudent, indeed," he said. "Those girls are as cute
as can be, and meaner than snakes." They listened as another anguished cry
floated by. "That one was weaker, I think."

Jed nodded, imagining the scene with a mixture of relief and envy as he
silently toasted his soon- to-be-late acquaintance. Keeping his seductively
sweet-limbed and deadly relatives safely occupied for one more reunion was a
job fraught with pleasure and peril, but somebody had to do it.

Just as long as it wasn't him.