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Once upon a time there was a young woman called Goldilocks. Now, you might think she was called so because of her beautiful head of bright yellow hair, but the truth of it was, the people who’d given her the name had never actually seen her. Goldilocks was a thief. The media had started calling her Goldilocks because no lock could stand before her — indeed, she took her pride in burglaring the most well-protected buildings — and because she left as calling cards little locks of hair from wigs that were indeed modelled after her own luxurious mane, of which she was most proud. She perplexed the police, but was loved by the media; she was a mystery, but not particularly dangerous, never stealing more than her victims could bear to lose. Indeed, she’d often overlooked priceless artefacts on her heists, and seemed to be in it for the challenge, rather than the prize.

Now it happened one day as our girl was out walking the city jungle that she came upon a mysterious house with three locks and no windows. “I wonder who lives here,” she thought, and after making sure no-one and nothing was watching, she could resist the lure of the locks no longer, and in one, two, three, she’d picked the lot and snuck inside.

She was in luck, for there were nobody home, and in truth, nobody lived in the strange house. It was owned by a group who called themselves the Three Bears, who used it to pursue their hobby together. They had one key each, and every so often they would meet up at the strange house to have some fun. Their real names were Bernard, Ursula and Theodore, but when they came to the house with the three locks, they were Papa Bear, Mama Bear and Junior Bear. Goldilocks knew nothing of that, of course, but she quickly realised the house wasn’t quite ordinary.

After entering the house she came into a rather bland hallway, but after that she came to a room where the centrepieces where three chairs… of a sort. They had many strange parts, and buttons and dials, and the moment Goldilocks lay eyes on them, she knew she should have to try them. So she hiked up her skirts and pulled down her panties and spread her legs over the first chair.

Now this chair belonged to Papa Bear, but while it rumbled pleasantly against her pussy and got her juices flowing, it came with a cock-sleeve that was of no use to her, and all in all it wasn’t enough to give her an orgasm. It was too soft.

Goldilocks turned it off and moved on to the second chair, which belonged to Mama Bear. This wonderful machine came with a dildo equipped, and it took Goldilocks a moment to ease herself down upon it, its hugeness filling her up real nice. But when she turned it on, its vibrations and rotations were far too intense for her, and it was really too much to stand for an orgasm. It was too hard.

Goldilocks turned it off and moved on to the third chair, which belonged to Junior Bear. This most curious-looking contraption also came with a dildo, but this one was much smaller and positioned differently. Furthermore, there was something that looked like a metal rose affixed to the front of the chair, petal upon gleaming petal.

With some trepidation, Goldilocks sat down for the third time, and was prepared to take her time again, working the dildo into her tight back door… but the small dildo slid inside quite effortlessly. It was almost too tiny for her to notice the intrusion at all, which was something of a disappointment; buttsex was definitely her favourite, and she’d thought this chair would be the right one for her. Still, she turned it on — and gasped.

The dildo was inflating inside of her, expanding and expanding her, growing almost too big to bear and then deflating again… and it moved, it vibrated, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. But that wasn’t all. The strange rose started moving, too, each petal on its own thin stem, snaking toward her. They seemed to aim at first for a penis she didn’t have, but when they found none they came closer, and soon they were flicking against her pussy lips and honing in on her clit, and she realised they weren’t petals at all: it was like she was being licked by a dozen tiny tongues.

She moaned, and soon she’d forgotten all about being a careful little thief as she orgasmed loudly, again and again. This chair was just right.

When she finally turned the machine off, Goldilocks knew she ought to leave, but she just had to find out what else was in this strange, sexy house. The next room she came to seemed to be a kitchen, and she suddenly realized just how hungry her recent tryst had left her. The room held something far more interesting than just cupboards, though: one wall was dominated by three very realistic, life-sized drawings of people. Naked, sexy people. And what was more, each of them sported a very convincing 3D-effect.

The first, which belonged to Papa Bear, was a hot red-head who looked down at her pussy, which she displayed with pride — and rather than painted, this particular part of her anatomy was sculpted, tuzla escort the inviting folds just waiting for a hungry tongue. Goldilocks didn’t need to be asked twice; she was on her knees in front of the ginger goddess in an instance, and it was so cleverly painted that it seemed as though it was watching her, now, as she sent her tongue probing between the perfectly sculpted folds of the painting’s pussy. To her great surprise she was rewarded with pussy juices, or rather, some sort of white soup, which started flowing from within the vagina, more and more coming the faster she licked. Still, this was a challenging way to eat, and Goldilocks soon tired of it. It was just too hard.

The second painting, belonging to Mama Bear, was tall, dark and handsome, with a massive erection protruding from the wall. He looked down on Goldilocks with a knowing grin as she popped the head of it into her mouth and started sucking, drawing more and more of the delicious soup into her mouth. She found that if she would take the whole of it into her mouth it would even pump out its contents without her needing to suck, she’d just have to swallow, but she got bored with it pretty quickly. It was just too easy.

She moved on to the third painting, which belonged to Junior Bear. It showed an absolutely gorgeous woman with beautiful, blond hair and a pair of very impressive teats sticking out of the wall, so full they looked ready to burst. This one had her eyes closed, but her mouth looked like she was in the middle of saying something. Goldilocks brushed her hand gently over the exposed breasts — and nearly jumped back in shock.

The painting moaned. Tentatively, she reached out again, her fingers finding the soft, smooth orbs that felt deceivingly real, and again, the sound of moaning erupted, long and longing, begging wordlessly for more.

Perhaps she ought to find this creepy, but instead, Goldilocks was massively turned on, and in a moment her hands were all over those amazing boobs, squeezing and jiggling. The moaning continued, and words were added.

“Oh, honey,” said the feminine voice of the painting, and there was so much feeling in those words that it didn’t matter that she was a (mostly) flat image on a wall.

A trickle of the white liquid she’d already tasted from the other paintings dribbled out of a perfectly pert nipple, and the voice admonished; “Don’t spill my milk, now.”

Goldilocks’ full lips closed over the droplet at once, and continued following the painting’s commands… Milk my slutty teats, oh honey, kiss my babies, I want your hands all over my breasts, c’mon, bite me, drink up now, honeybear, I made this all for you…

And Goldilocks did; she covered the orbs in her red lipstick and drank and drank until there wasn’t a drop more to be had. This meal had been just right.

The moaning and sexy remarks had left her very horny, though, and she hurried to the next room, hoping to find another fucking marvel there. She was almost disappointed when all she found was three beds. But she figured she could lie down for a quick test, rest her legs and masturbate a little. They sure looked sexy, anyway.

First, she tried Papa Bear’s bed; a pristine white mattress within an iron wrought frame, in which simplified figures demonstrated intricate poses. There were no blankets, and only a single pillow of black silk, but at each corner of the bedframe there were fastened menacing manacles, ready to use. These made Goldilocks grin: manacles were about as effective at holding her still, as locked doors were at keeping her out. At any rate, she didn’t stay long in the first bed. It was too hard.

The second bed belonged to Mama Bear, and it was a luxurious four-poster, with well-endowed people carved into the hard, wooden frame. It was heaped with fluffy pillows and duvets, mostly red, and strong silk scarves were fastened to the bedposts, ready to use. Goldilocks grinned again; she knew a thing or two about self-bondage, and could easily have restrained herself — and just as easily gotten lose. It did feel just a smidge too risky to try in a house she’d broken into, though, and at any rate, she didn’t stay long in this bed, either. It was too soft.

The third bed, belonging to Junior Bear, was rather different from the other two. It looked most of all like something out of a smutty sci-fi story. The mattress was a big, blocky thing, resting directly on the floor. It was painted in the same style as the kitchen, with the blonde girl resting invitingly atop — or within — the sheets, though here she had no extra 3D-effects. The bedframe was made of gleaming metal, but rather than holding the mattress, it seemed simply to encase it, like a silver cable in a neat square around the base of the bed. Perhaps its purpose was simply to keep the mattress from sliding around on the floor?

There were no blankets or pillows, either, and Goldilocks considered taking one from the other beds, but decided to give it a go as intended. And she didn’t pendik escort regret it; the moment she laid down, the bed seemed to shape itself to her, and inflated a little under her head, giving her the support she wanted. She knew at once this was the bed for her; not too hard, not too soft, but just right.

A perfect place for a spot of masturbation.

She took off her shoes and jacket, panties and bra, unbuttoned her shirt and hiked up her skirts, allowing both her breasts and cunt to breathe freely. But just as her hand slid towards her moist pussy, she heard a strange whirring sound from within the bed, and then through the corners of her eyes she saw what looked most of all like silver snakes gliding towards her, and before she had time to realise what was going on, something was wrapping itself around her wrists and ankles.

Lifting her head she saw four gleaming metal cables, and realised they must be coming from that strange bedframe — gods, had she ever underestimated this bed! And it wasn’t done with her, either; it was pulling her into the position it wanted, legs spread and arms above her head, and then…

“Fucking hell!” Goldilocks exclaimed as another cable rose into view. This one had a little orb on its end.

“Don’t you fucking daaaah!”

The ball gag popped into her mouth, the thin cable snaking around her head to keep it in place. For its final touch, the bed provided a soft blindfold, expertly tied in place over her eyes by those vicious metal cables.

Goldilocks was equal parts annoyed and turned on. She was sure she could figure out how to get lose… it was just going to take time. But while she figured it out, couldn’t this fucking tentacle bed at least fuck her? She was so horny…

Unbeknownst to Goldilocks, though, she had less time for her Houdini hijinks than she thought: The Three Bears had arrived. Three hands inserted three keys into three locks. The door swung open and they went into the hallway, where they took off most of their clothes. But when they continued to the sybian room, Papa Bear noticed something strange: a golden-blond, curly pubic hair stuck to a patch of sticky fluid.

“Someone’s been sitting on my chair!” he exclaimed.

“Someone’s been sitting on my chair, too,” chimed in Mama Bear.

“Someone’s been sitting on my chair,” said Junior with an intrigued grin, “and they’ve orgasmed all over it.”

The Three Bears continued into the kitchen, where they quickly noticed their wall-paintings being dirtier than when last they left.

“Someone’s been drinking from my dolly,” said Papa Bear.

“Someone’s been drinking from my dolly, too,” said Mama Bear.

“Well, someone’s been drinking from my dolly,” said Junior, pinching the sculpted nipple to make the painting moan, “and they’ve drunk her dry.”

The trio continued into the bedroom, making Goldilocks, who had yet to figure out how to free herself, go stiff with fear. She heard a gruff voice say “Someone’s been lying in my bed.” A feminine voice added “Someone’s been lying in my bed, too.”

Then a gleeful, softly seductive voice very close to her ear said:

“Someone’s been lying in my bed… and she’s still there.”

Goldilocks moaned pleadingly, hoping it sounded more like release me than fuck me… though she’d have to admit that right now, either would be good.

“So, what should we do with you then,” asked the honey-sweet voice. “We probably ought to call the police, hm?”

Goldilocks shook her head violently.

“No? I suppose we could punish you ourselves… What do you two think?”

“Oh, I figure such a naughty girl’s gonna need a lot of punishing,” growled the first voice. “I’ll take her down into the dungeon, we’ll see how long she lasts. Give her a round in the stocks, paddle her ass real good, hang her from the roof and let her taste the whip, and of course, she’ll look fine upon the rack, as I introduce her to my ostrich feathers…”

Goldilocks shivered. These people had an actual sex dungeon? Oh, it sounded like they could fulfil every being-captured-by-a-horny-cop fantasy she’d ever had! But the female voice snorted.

“Pain is all well and good, but the way to really punish a bad girl like this is through public humiliation. You know,” she said, speaking directly into Goldilocks’ ear, “we’re part of a very special and exclusive online community. One of our rooms, we call it the stage, has all the best in projection equipment. With it, we can broadcast holographic versions of anything happening in that room, and simultaneously project images of everyone watching. Oh, don’t worry, it’s quite safe — our programs anonymise everyone being filmed, giving them fake heads. Nobody knows what anybody really looks like. But the feeling of being watched, oh, that’s quite real. What do you think? Dozens of people will come to see Mistress B. spanking this naughty girl, will watch you as I make you submit to all my humiliating commands… And you will see them watching aydınlı escort you; see them jerk off to the sight of your lush lips around my toes as you worship my feet…”

Goldilocks moaned. This ‘punishment’ was even better than the last…! But the third voice, that sexy, amused-sounding man, was tsk’ing.

“Those options both sound good,” he said, “but you’re being so greedy, wasting this precious opportunity on things we already know… Meanwhile, my workshop is full of new inventions, but I’ve no assistant to test them on! Don’t worry; there’ll still be plenty of both pain and humiliation. You know what I can do. And besides, so far this girl has availed herself of my machines, most of all. Seems only right that she has to pay me back.”

Goldilocks tried to swallow, but the gag made it difficult. The honey-sweet voice was the inventor of these marvellous contraptions? The thought of being the tester for even more of those marvels was making her drool — from two sets of lips.

“But if we can’t come to an agreement,” the inventor continued, and Goldilocks tried to protest; she’d vote for him, wasn’t her vote worth anything? “I suggest a little competition to decide who gets their way. How about… the winner is whoever gets her to climax fastest?”

Goldilocks hummed and wriggled her hips as well as her bonds allowed. She liked how this man thought!

“Hah, you’re on,” growled the first voice.

“Okay,” said the second, “but none of your tricks. All we get to use is our bodies, the good, old-fashioned way.”

“Fine by me,” said the third voice, adding “Bed: deflate.”

At once, Goldilocks could feel herself descending towards the floor as the mattress did exactly as commanded. It was a surprisingly steady drop, and quick, too; soon her back was lying flat against the hard floor. The metal cables restraining her tightened, too, giving her not even in inch of leeway. If anything, they were tighter than before, and she could feel the metal bedframe under the soles of her stockinged feet.

Her new position must’ve been by design, as the next command, “Bed: upright” made the headboard end of the frame, to which her wrists were still secured, rise up from the floor. It was something of a dizzying experience, rising up into the air like some vampire out of its coffin, her feet still solidly planted on the ground (at least by proxy) in the spread-eagle position. When the motion stopped, the bedframe had become a doorframe, with her just as trapped and displayed in the middle, now exposed from every angle. She hoped her three mystery captors liked what they saw, and kind of wished she’d undressed completely. At least she was wearing her sexy lace stockings today.

“Damn, she’s hot,” said the first voice, as if reading her mind.

“Bit of a shame, though,” said the second, “us seeing her but unable to show off in return.”

“Is that a hint?” said the third. “Alright. Bed: undo blindfold.”

And finally, Goldilocks could see who was behind the voices.

The first, a man, was big as a bear, and just as heavy. He wasn’t wearing much, just a pair of brown leather pants with an open front, displaying a massive erection. His bare chest was equally hairy and muscular, while his hair was covered in dark curls and an impressive beard. Brown eyes rowed over her body from beneath bushy brows, but although the man himself might seem scary, there was a kindness to his eyes.

The second, a woman, made Goldilocks look even more like a fragile fairy than usual. She was all curves; wide hips, round limbs, soft belly and massive teats. Nobody would ever have called her fat, though; she was like Venus come to life, beautiful, sexy, and full of confidence. She wore even less than the first, just a shibari harness of red rope, accenting her boobs and digging into her moist cunt. Her hair, both down there and atop her head, was dark red, very curly, and trimmed neat and short.

The third voice belonged to a man with proportions closer to Goldilocks’, which meant he looked rather small and weak compared to the other two. He was slightly pudgy, with wild, messy curls gathered in a ponytail, and an unkempt five-day stubble. He was wearing the least amount of clothing of the lot; in fact, his pair of eye-obscuring spectacles could hardly be categorised as clothing at all.

Despite all this, and including the fact that his rather ordinarily-sized dick looked positively puny next to the other man, he still managed to look incredibly sexy. Perhaps it was his expression, eyes hidden by the reflection of light on his glasses, eyebrow arched in amusement, lips curled in a knowing, anticipating smirk. Or perhaps it was his stance, both relaxed and tense, like a predator on the hunt. Or perhaps it was simply the fact that she knew that it was his brilliantly dirty mind that had trapped her like this.

“Well, then,” he said, and somehow the sight of him gave his honey-sweet voice a more dangerous edge, “I suppose some introductions are in order. Let’s not saddle anyone with real names on our first date, though. You can call these two Mama and Papa Bear, while I,” he gave a curt nod of his head, “am Junior Bear. And I believe you, my dear, are the infamous Goldilocks?”

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