(c)2013 angelface195 all rights reserved

Here are the characters:

The Cassidy’s

Matthew: The Patriarch

Helen: His wife

Hayley: Their youngest daughter

Samantha: Their middle daughter who is married to actor Brandon Mitchell

Denise: Eldest daughter married to Daniel Worth

Jonah: Eldest child and only son – he is married to Quinn

Son in law’s

Brandon Mitchell – Actor

Daniel Worth –Sports agent

Quinn Cassidy – Daughter-in-law married to Jonah

Jake Harrison – Fiancé to Hayley

Mary Harrison – Sister to Jake

Stephen Cassidy – son of Dent Cassidy, suitor to Mary

Kenneth Baylor Cassidy – Head of the board

Blake Black: Family lawyer, keeper of the Ritual

The Chadwell’s

Lord Thomas Chadwell

Lady Catherine Chadwell

Mason Chadwell –great nephew to Matthew, fiancé to Daniela

Claudia Chadwell-Winston and her husband, Martin Winston

Braxton Chadwell and his wife, Tara

Carlton Chadwell and his wife, Carmen

Sylvia Chadwell-Sawyer and her husband, Adam Sawyer


Margaret Jones – Assistant to Hayley

Brian West – Assistant to Jake

Daniela – Frederick’s daughter and now submissive to Hayley

Marvina – New Housekeeper to Hayley and Jake


The men all returned and met up with Jake and Lord Thomas who spent time together talking about what the last day of the Ritual would be and the celebration. Lady Catherine and Lord Thomas had arranged a variety of entertainment to celebrate.


Downstairs, Mason had Tara and Carmen take Lady Catherine back to the bed. He had them tie her legs spread open to each of the posters of the bed and left her arms free. Lady Catherine watched her son.

He picked up a cane and a crop. He used the crop on her pussy and her breasts as he talked, “You and your family brought this on all of us. You make us want to sleep with our family! You make us want to fuck you and do all kinds of degenerate things.”

Mason struck Catherine and she cried out. Claudia came to her brother and knelt in front of him she took his cock and began to suck him as he continued his tirade, “All I can think of right now is fucking you. Putting my big dick inside your pussy where I was born. I hate that I have to do this, but I also want to so badly I can’t stand it.”

Mason threw down the crop and took the cane and started striking Catherine’s thighs. “Your pussy is so fucking beautiful.” WHACK! “You are so beautiful!” WHACK!

Claudia kept sucking him. Mason moved towards his mother. He could see where he had struck her. He began kissing her wounds. He got to her pussy and started licking and sucking on her pussy lips. Catherine moaned. “Yes my beautiful son.”

Mason’s cock was hard. He stared directly into Catherine’s eyes and all the love he felt for her melted the anger he felt. He moved forward removing his cock from Claudia’s mouth. Sylvia came next to him and held his cock; she rolled on a condom as Carmen untied Catherine’s legs.

Mason climbed onto the bed between his mother’s legs. Catherine held out her arms welcoming him and he pushed his dick forward. Sylvia removed her hands and Mason began to fuck Catherine.

Claudia moved between her sister’s legs and began sucking her pussy as Tara and Carmen watched. Mason began fucking Catherine slowly. “Mother.” He cried and the tears began to fall, “Mother, I love you.” He said moving his hips in and out.

“I know Mason and I love you. Your cock feels so good, it’s so damn thick and long. Yessss, like that son, fuck mother.” Catherine purred.

Mason fucked into her. He savored her pussy as she held him. Catherine kissed his lips and held him as he fucked in and out of her.

Carmen held Tara and pinched her nipples as they watched mother and son fucking. Catherine wrapped her legs around Mason and he began fucking his mother in earnest. He moaned and groaned his love. “Mother I don’t want to cum inside you. I, I, want to make love to…” He didn’t’ finish.

“I know, she’s always been special to you. I will have your father take care of my needs. You go and be with her.” Catherine said.

Mason pulled out and got off the bed. He pulled Sylvia away from Claudia. Catherine stood up and put on her robe, “Let’s leave them alone. I think tonight is done for the rest of us.”

Everyone left the room after kissing Mason. Sylvia lay on the bed staying nothing just looking up at her brother. Mason kissed her lips, “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I want to spend this time with you. You are my most special sister.” He said running his hands over her face.

“Mason, I love you too.” Sylvia said smiling up at him.

Mason moved down her body sucking her nipples. “Do you know how jealous I was when you married Adam?”

“No. I didn’t know.” Sylvia said anxiously.

“I was very jealous and of course I didn’t know that father fucked you and took your virginity.” Mason said as he nipped her nipple.

Sylvia groaned. Mason got off the bed. He picked up the cane. Sylvia looked at him with a mixture of fear and want in her eyes. In a sudden movement, Mason flipped her over onto her stomach. WHISH! The cane went into the air, THWACK! It came down hard on Sylvia’s buttocks.

“I’m going to make love to you. I’m going to fuck you in every hole because like Daniela you should have belonged to me.” Mason said.

“Yes, I should have, but Adam loves me and I love him.” Sylvia said as he hit her again.

“He neglects you and leaves you for Tara and Braxton to take care of. From now on I want him to leave you with me and Daniela.” Mason said as he threw down the cane and got behind her. “If anyone is going to take charge of you, it will be me.”

He said as he slammed his cock in her pussy from behind. Mason pulled her body up to kneeling and he fucked Sylvia, all the while telling her how much he loved her.

Mason pulled out of her pussy and lubed his dick. He inserted two fingers into Sylvia’s ass and moved his cock inside. He spanked her. “You tell Adam that from now on when he’s away for more than two weeks, you are to come to New York. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

“Yes Mason, yes I understand.” She said as she moved back onto his dick.

“You will call me Master in my house. You will suck my cock and my wife’s pussy whenever she wants. You will be with us and you will do as I wish because Sylvia you may fuck your husband but you belong to me!”

Mason fucked in and out of her ass. He pulled out and she felt empty. Going into the bathroom, he washed his dick. Mason knew that he wanted Sylvia to swallow his sperm. He wanted her to take it all the way into her throat.

Sylvia was expecting him to take her mouth. She lay on the bed with her head back. Mason took her head in his hands and dipped his cock into her mouth. He fucked her mouth hard, commanding her to take it all. Mason took his time and every once a while he would reach forward to spank her pussy. He fucked her mouth until finally looking at her beautiful body and thinking about how much he loved her he felt his release beginning to bubble up and then erupt.

Sylvia tried to drink it all, but it spilled out and over. She swallowed as fast as she could and licked Mason clean. Mason removed his dick from her mouth and kissed her lips. He put on his pants and before he walked out the room he said, “Make sure you clean up every drop.” He left closing the door behind him.

Sylvia Chadwell Sawyer had never been so happy in her life.


Everyone met upstairs except for Mason and Daniela. Mason after leaving the room went to see Daniela, who had returned to her room. Hayley left them alone. Daniela saw the look on Mason’s face and she opened her arms to him. Mason went into them and on his knees being cradled by his wife-to-be, Mason Chadwell cried…


Mason slept with Daniela that night. She held him in her arms and whispered to him, “I know how hard it is. Hayley and Jake went through a great deal, but tomorrow it will be over and then a celebration. Your parents have arranged something wonderful.”

“But we have to do this again with our children and it goes on and on.” Mason said sadly.

“It’s does and because of this the world moves on and the Cassidy’s prosper. You read the contract. You know how this began and now you know why it’s still done. One day, maybe someone will be selfish and say no and then we will all pay, but for now, we know that you’ve done it all for love. You love me and I love you.” Daniela said and kissed Mason gently.

As if they understood, the babies moved in her stomach.


The day began with breakfast for everyone in the dining room. Lord Thomas stood, “I know we are going to have a busy evening to conclude the Ritual. I want everyone to relax. There is nothing in the rules that says that we all have to be together, so I suggest that you each take one or two partners into any room including your own to spend with, with the exception of your mate. You may, if you have any energy left, change partners until 6 a.m. The third part of the ritual begins tonight after dinner.

Tomorrow evening we will have a big celebration. The lawyers will be arriving with your bonus checks. You are all welcomed to stay the weekend, but I have a feeling most of you will be ready to return home.

Since it is Mason’s ritual, he may make the first choice.”

Mason stood at his place in the table, “I would like to spend my evening with my mother, Lady Chadwell, my brother-in-law Adam and Tara.” Tara looked surprised, as did Adam.

Lord Thomas was next, “I’d like to spend my time with my beautiful daughter-in- law to be, Daniela, if she will have me and Martin.” Daniela agreed, Martin was looking forward to it.

Claudia was next and she chose to spend her time with Jake and Carmen.

Carlton was going to be with Hayley and Sylvia who looked longingly at Mason.

Mason gave a small warning, “I want Daniela to be in bed by eleven, earlier if possible.”

Lord Thomas nodded at his son, “Don’t worry dear boy, we want Miss Daniela to get rest, I assure you we will be finished long before that. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Martin pulled Mason aside, ‘I don’t know what you said or did to my wife yesterday, but Claudia apologized to me for the way she’s been treating me. Thank you, Mason.” Martin held out his hand and Mason shook it.


Mason decided to spend the time before dinner with Daniela in London. He felt they needed to get out of the house for a little while. Jeffrey was waiting outside with the Rolls and drove them into London. Daniela and Mason went shopping for baby things and a few things for the new house. They spent a wonderful day shopping and had a nice lunch at Balthazar’s where they shared a petite plateau de fruits de mar that included, lobster, winkles, whelks, scallops, razor clams mussels, dressed crab, langoustines, shrimp and ceviche.”

Daniela ordered sea bass with Jerusalem artichoke, cockles, fennel and tarragon while Mason had the Dover sole meunière with parsley potatoes. They shared baked meringue with warm seasonal berries.

They shopped some more and found some paintings they really liked which they bought and had shipped back to the house in Connecticut.

Jeffrey drove them back to the house for dinner. They were both full from lunch and just joined the family for some salad and dessert. Daniela especially seemed to have a sweet tooth. Everyone started to pair off.

Lord Thomas offered Daniela his arm as did Martin and she went with them to the room Lord Thomas and she had been in earlier. She spent several hours with them and Martin found joy in sucking them both.


Claudia found that she met her match in Jake as she had with Mason. Jake was masterful and she loved their skin on top of each other; her very pale English skin and his caramel colored skin. She loved the feel of his curly hair and the slightly rough pubic hair, but she especially found great joy when his cock entered her pussy. Carmen also found that she loved the way Jake fucked her and she came quite a few times. Claudia and Carmen had reached a crossroads and Claudia had managed to repair some of the damage she had caused, but she knew it would be a long time before they trusted her.


Carlton, Sylvia and Hayley spent a great deal of time talking about their lives. Carlton and Sylvia admitted how much they wanted this wedding to be done so they could have children. Carlton talked about his love of Carmen while Sylvia shared her life with Adam and how much she missed him when he was away on assignment. Hayley talked to both of them about her life in New York with Jake and how much she wanted this to be over with so they could move on with their life and not have to worry about The Ritual for at least the next twenty some odd years.


Mason, Lady Catherine, Adam and Tara went to Lady Chadwell’s room. Mason watched as Adam fucked his mother-in-law. He held Tara on his lap and she rode his cock. Mason was getting tired and called it a night an hour later leaving them to enjoy themselves.

He met Daniela on the stairs going up to her room. Mason called down to the kitchen and ordered some fruit and cheese along with tea. They relaxed for the evening. Edwina came upstairs and brought them a bag of chocolates made by the pastry chef.

Daniela was in heaven and nearly ate them all, “I’m going to gain 300 pounds before these babies get here, I’m always so hungry.

Mason laughed and hugged her, “And I will still love you as I spank and fuck you back down to whatever weight you want to be.”

Mason took Daniela to the shower. He ran the water and undressed her and then himself. In the shower, he washed and kissed her. Mason took care of her that night and they climbed into bed and fell asleep. Around two in the morning, Daniela awoke to find herself alone. Mason had gotten up and put on sweatpants and shirt. He went for a run in the dark around the castle. Mason needed to just be alone and think of the last two days and the Ritual. Mason realized that he wanted to know more about the Ritual. He took out his phone and called Blake. Blake answered on the first ring. “Hello Mason, I’m sure you have a question or two.”

“I actually have one big question. I want to ensure that Matthew isn’t going to be a pain in my ass after the twins are born. Technically they are Matthew’s youngest.” Mason said as he walked around the grounds.

“The twins are your oldest. Remember that Daniela and her children were supposed to be slaves, now that you and Daniela are going to be married, Daniela is free as are her children. She is part of the Chadwell family now not the New York Cassidy’s.” Blake said. “Don’t worry about Matthew; I have a feeling that once the babies are born Matthew will know his place in your life.”

“Thank you Blake.” Mason said relieved.

“How is the Ritual going? You still have a few more hours left.” Blake asked.

“I think for me it’s done. I want to just be with Daniela. I’m tired of this.” Mason said pacing back and forth.

“What about Sylvia?” Blake asked.

“Blake how do you know everything?” Mason said.

Blake chuckled, “That’s my secret, but have you worked it out with Adam?”

“I think so. Even thousands of miles away you still know what’s going on with us.” Mason said incredulously.

“Yes and I always will. Don’t be surprised if you get a surprise in a few minutes. Have a safe flight back.” Blake said and hung up.

Mason managed a smile as he thought about Blake. He continued to walk. Sylvia and Adam came behind him and Adam called his name. Mason stopped walking.

Adam grabbed Sylvia by the hair and forced her to her knees. “I know you love her, but she belongs to me.” Adam said angrily.

“I know that Adam, but I also know that you spend a great deal of time traveling and Sylvia has needs that are not addressed. You send her to Braxton and Tara when she should be with me.” Mason said watching Sylvia.

“Slut, open my pants and suck my dick.” Adam said and Sylvia did as her husband asked.

“That’s a good girl. You are where you belong.” Adam patted her head.

“I will not allow her to come to you in America. Braxton and Tara have and will until I take a job on the desk next year, take care of any needs she may have.” Adam said as he thrust back and forth in Sylvia’s mouth.

“I’m sorry Adam, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just wanted…” Mason said and Adam stopped him.

“You just wanted Sylvia and that my dear brother is not going to happen. She and I are married and I will take care of her. It won’t be long until you and Daniela get married. Then the rest of us can start planning to have babies. I plan to keep Miss Sylvia very knocked up which is why I’m taking a job as an anchor so I will be home.” Adam said as he held onto Sylvia’s hair and roughly fucked her mouth.

“We have a few more hours to the end of the Ritual, come and join us. Spend time with us here and lets enjoy Sylvia.” Adam offered.

Mason looked at Adam who pulled Sylvia off is cock. He zipped up and helped her up. They walked towards the stable. Mason followed. It just started to rain outside as they arrived. Before they stepped inside, Adam undressed Sylvia. She stood shivering in the rain naked. Adam got some rope and bound her hands. He yanked her inside. “I know this is your ritual, so you decide what happens now. I know you want her and I own her, she is my wife and my submissive, so have her now and enjoy her.”

Mason looked at Sylvia’s beautiful body. He didn’t say anything, but got the step ladder. Taking the rope from Adam, he pulled the rope through the ring in the ceiling. Sylvia looked at the two men she loved with love in her eyes.

Adam spoke to Mason, “You don’t know what Sylvia is about. You really don’t know her. Sylvia is a pain slut. She enjoys pain. I send her to Braxton and Tara because they know how much she can take, they also know that she enjoys both of them. They are both Doms and they use her which keeps her happy.”

Adam handed Mason one of the crops in the stable. Adam stood in front of Sylvia. He pinched her nipples hard. “Enjoy yourself.” Sylvia groaned and smiled at her husband as Mason took the crop and began to whip Sylvia. She enjoyed each and every stroke with the crop.

Adam spanked her pussy and her breasts. She groaned through it. Mason watched Adam and he knew that he had been wrong about Adam. They really loved each other. Mason turned Sylvia’s ass red but she never cried out.

Mason went up and untied Sylvia. He brought her down slowly and she fell to her knees. Adam stood over her and Sylvia waited. He looked directly at Mason. “What do you want my dear wife. Tell Mason what you want.”

“I want Mason to fuck my ass while you fuck my pussy, right here in the stable.” Sylvia said still staring at her husband.

Adam reached for the rope and tied it loosely around her neck. He pulled Sylvia into one of the stalls. Mason followed them. Adam undressed as did Mason. Adam put down a blanket that was hanging over the door. He lay down. Sylvia got on top of him and slid her pussy down onto his cock.

Adam groaned and pulled Sylvia down to kiss her, “Open your ass and present it to Mason so he may take you.”

Sylvia did as he was ordered. Mason got behind her and stroked his cock. He spit in his hand and lubed his dick. Getting behind Sylvia he slowly inserted his cock into her ass.

Adam looked at him, “Slam it in. She wants you to take charge of her ass.”

Mason grabbed hold of Sylvia’s hips and slammed himself in. Sylvia gritted her teeth, but there was a slight smile on her lips as she was fucked from behind by both men.

“Thank you Sir for allowing my brother to whip and fuck me.” Sylvia said as she kissed her husband.

Adam whispered in her ear, “You wait until we get home, I’ll take care of you the way you need Sylvia.”

“Yes Sir.” She moaned. “I’m looking forward to whatever you have in mind Sir. I love you.”

Author’s Note: This is pure fantasy. I like writing non-consent, but it needs to have at least a minimal amount of justification, rather than be pure abduction/rape. Also note that all my characters are eventually freed, although somewhat the worse for wear, at least in the short-term. There are nine chapters in this one, and I will submit them a couple of chapters at a time every day or so. Enjoy them (if this is your thing). Comments are welcome, and I have a thick skin.


Chapter 5

Two days later, Carlotta nervously entered the playroom. The Master was already there, sitting in his usual chair. A box was beside the chair. “Come in Carlotta and have a seat on the mat there.” Carlotta sat down on the indicated mat, still wondering what was going to happen to her today.

“One of the whole points of activities like ours is to force the victim to enjoy it at some sexual level and even climax despite the pain. It’s not really much fun for me if it is just pure torture. From how wet you have gotten several times, I know that this could happen with you, but it is obviously not reaching the point of you actually climaxing. I was sure you would orgasm on the bike; after all, a rather large dildo was moving steadily in and out for quite a few minutes. Until you slowed down, there was no pain and even the initial shocks weren’t very strong. You should have climaxed. At this point, my question is this. Have you ever really had an orgasm?”

“Of course I have,” Carlotta answered hotly. “Master,” she added quickly.

The Master shook his head sadly. “Carlotta, I have access to a lie detector and am quite proficient in its use. If you lie to me it will mean severe punishment, maybe even the stocks. So, one more time: Have you ever really had an orgasm?”

Carlotta hung her head, blushing. “I, I don’t know for sure, maybe.”

“If you don’t know for sure, I can assure you the answer is ‘No’. When you finally have an orgasm, you will not have any doubt. So our goal now is to get you used to having orgasms in a number of different ways. We’ll start out with something simple,” he said, reaching into the box. “This is called a butterfly. Stand up for a moment.”

The Master buckled a strap around Carlotta’s waist then ran additional straps between her legs and fastened them to the belt in back. This had the effect of securing the fairly flat device right over her clit and the top of her pussy. “Now lie down and get comfortable,” he said, producing a cushion for her head. Carlotta did as she was told, still confused by the new, nice Master. “I’ll leave your hands free so that you can move the butterfly around a bit if you want to.” With that, he turned it on.

“Oh, God,” Carlotta thought as the vibrations began to work their magic on her clit and pussy. No one had ever gone down on her before; she had never really spent any time pleasuring herself, and had certainly never used a vibrator. Sex had always been something she used to get what she wanted; sex itself had never been what she wanted. Now she had no choice but to experience the stimulation. After a few minutes, unable to help herself, she moved her hands to the butterfly, moving it around slightly to maximize its effect. Her tension grew. After another few minutes she felt like she couldn’t take any more and was about to explode. She tried to remove the butterfly, but the Master stopped her.

“Leave it, Carlotta. Trust me, just this once.”

With no choice, she did. After another minute or so, she was sure she would shatter any second. That’s when it happened; she did shatter in a screaming orgasm unlike anything she had ever even imagined. The Master reached over and turned the butterfly off, as Carlotta lay there shuttering with the aftershocks of her first orgasm.

“See, I told you you would know if you had ever really had an orgasm,” he said. “There are basically three different kinds of orgasm. This was a clitoral orgasm. After you have recovered, we will work on a vaginal orgasm. It is not quite as intense, but many women find it more satisfying. After that, we will try for a blended orgasm, combining the two. My female friends all say it is the best of the three, although sometimes a bit harder to achieve.”

Unbelievably to Carlotta, the Master went over to the bar and returned with a small glass of champagne for her. She sipped it as she recovered. The Master waited patiently. When she was through, the Master asked her. “Are you ready to try for a different kind of climax?” Less apprehensive than normal, Carlotta nodded, not really trusting her voice.

The Master reached into his bag and pulled out a fairly long vibrator with a flexible head that looked like it could move in and out as well as perhaps even in a small circle. It was fairly large, but after dealing with the Master’s cock, the seven or eight inch vibrator was really not very intimidating. “Lay back and relax and I’ll insert this for you. Again, you may need to move in around or even in and out some to get the maximum effect. Experiment; sex is supposed to be fun, well at least sometimes. Let me show you the controls.”

Carlotta followed his instructions. The vibrator had some fairly sophisticated controls. There were three speeds and two buttons, one to cause the head to move in and out, the other to make the head move in a tight circle. Carlotta turned it on using the slowest speed. Immediately, she began to feel some of the same sensations as the first time, although these seemed deeper and more complete somehow, even if less intense. She turned it up a speed and began moving it around some with her hands. She was still embarrassed about putting on such an intimate show for the Master and the watching cameras, but she guessed she must be getting use to it since she was no longer blushing as intensely or as often.

The sensations gradually built in Carlotta’s nude and now sweating body. Despite the sweat, both her nipples were rock-hard and standing straight up at least half an inch. After her first orgasm, she now knew what the build-up meant, and she was suddenly eager for her climax. She turned the vibrator up to high and activated both the other controls at once. The intensity of the vibrations increased dramatically and the tip began moving in and out an inch or so, but also rotating in a subtle circle at the same time. The effect was electric. “Oh, God, oh God” Carlotta screamed as the sensations rapidly built, then crested in another shattering orgasm. Too overcome to turn the vibrator off immediately, Carlotta screamed again as her body almost instantly built up to a second and then a third climax.

The Master reached over and turned it off, slowly withdrawing the vibrator from her spasming pussy with a distinct sucking sound. As Carlotta opened her eyes, he looked at the vibrator and with a wink at Carlotta, began licking her juices off of it. “Delicious,” he said at last. Despite everything, that did make Carlotta blush again, the color starting at her face and moving all the way down to her quivering tits with their still-hard nipples.

The Master put the vibrator on the table next to the butterfly and moved back to the bar. He returned with yet another glass of champagne for Carlotta. “That was at least mostly a vaginal orgasm. Take some time to come down, and then we’ll try one more thing today, the blended orgasm.”

When Carlotta indicated she was ready, the Master re-attached the butterfly and also re-inserted the vibrator. This time however, he stretched Carlotta’s arms out over her head and secured them. “I really want you to focus on the sensations this time, without trying to control them at all; just feel.” He turned both devices on, with the vaginal vibrator on low. The sensations began to build. After a few minutes, the Master leaned over and upped the speed on the vibrator.

For Carlotta, the tension continued to build, but the combination of sensations was almost unbearable. Had her hands been free, she would have moved one or the other of the devices. Since her hands weren’t free, all she could do was endure. After a few more minutes, the Master switched the vibrator on high and activated the other two controls as well. Moments later, Carlotta experienced a screaming climax unlike anything she had felt so far. “Please, no more; turn them off,” she gasped out. The Master ignored her plea, watching as she shuttered through another two screaming climaxes in quick succession before finally turning them off.

Carlotta lay in an exhausted but satisfied heap. The Master unfastened her arms and carried her into her bedroom and laid her down on her bed. He moved into the bathroom and ran her a bath in the Jacuzzi tub, then set one last glass of Champagne down next to it. “When you are ready, you can go soak in the tub. I’ll see you again tomorrow at 10:00,” he said as he left.

Chapter 6

Carlotta entered the “playroom” the next morning, promptly at 10:00. She had gotten up, had breakfast, given herself her required enema and showered. She was not looking for a repeat of her previous experience when she had overslept. When she entered the room, the Master was not alone. A completely nude, vaguely Oriental girl, maybe mid twenties, was with him. She had a lovely, tight little body, completely shaven, just like Carlotta was now.

“This is Anna; she is one of my administrative assistants. Normally, she doesn’t involve herself in this part of my activities, but today she has agreed to help. Anna wants a new car; it costs around fifty thousand dollars. Unfortunately, she and her husband had an accounting business together, but he ran off with the secretary after defrauding several clients as well as cleaning out all his and Anna’s joint accounts. Anna managed to escape jail but they did pull her CPA license, even though they couldn’t prove she was in on the fraud. Since her credit is also now shot, she can’t get a normal car loan for several more years. Her trade-in is worth around twenty thousand, so she is looking for a way to earn the extra thirty thousand dollars. I have offered her a thousand dollar bonus for her help today, as well as an opportunity to earn more.”

“The process is simple. First, Anna will go down on you. She has fifteen minutes to make you climax. For every minute quicker than that, I’ll put one thousand dollars in her car fund, and you get one stroke. For every minute you hold out over fifteen, I will subtract one stroke from your daily total, and give it to her instead. Next, you will do the same for her. For every minute she holds out over fifteen, she gets another thousand dollars and you get a stroke. For every minute under fifteen, she gets a stroke and we subtract one of yours. Finally, the two of you will “69″; if she cums first, she gets three strokes and we will subtract three from you; if you cum first, she gets another three thousand dollars and you get three strokes. At the end of the day, if you have negative strokes, you can use ten of them to buy another day off, or use them later to avoid punishment strokes on later days. If you don’t want to play, I will just give her the thirty thousand dollars and give you thirty strokes, probably from several different instruments. Note that there are therefore three separate contests. At the end of the day, I get to fuck whoever loses two of them in the ass, and the other in her cunt.” Anna looked nervous as the Master said this last.

Carlotta listened to this in horror. She was not even sure she could perform oral sex on another woman and certainly had no desire to. On the other hand, she could only imagine what thirty strokes in a row would feel like. “I guess, I guess I’ll play,” she said reluctantly.

“Good choice; take a spot on the mat there, and we’ll get started.”

Carlotta took her spot on the mat, and the Master moved over and propped a pillow under her head. Next, he wheeled a machine over and began attaching the leads to her body, rather like an EKG machine. “This device was originally developed by sex-therapy clinics to monitor orgasms in both men and women. It will keep you both honest, so no one can fake an orgasm.” Once Carlotta was all hooked up, he turned to Anna and said, “Your show, my dear. I’ll start the timer whenever you’re ready.”

Anna positioned herself between Carlotta’s legs, using her hands to push them further apart to give her an unobstructed view of Carlotta’s cunt. “I want a pillow under her butt too,” she requested. The Master had Carlotta raise up and then pushed a pillow under her hips. Anna adjusted it a bit until she was satisfied with the placement. “I’m ready,” she said, taking a deep breath.

“Go,” the Master said, starting the timer.

Carlotta knew at once that this was not Anna’s first experience with another woman; she knew exactly what she was doing. She began by parting Carlotta’s cunt lips and breathing softly on the exposed core. From there she proceeded with soft, slow licks, starting with long licks from Carlotta’s ass all the way to her clit, gradually picking up the pace and increasing the intensity. After a few moments, she began pushing the tip of her quick little tongue into Carlotta’s cunt, making happy, slurping sounds. Gradually her tongue started going deeper, with increasing force and speed. After another couple of minutes, she moved up and began concentrating on Carlotta’s clit, replacing the tongue in Carlotta’s cunt with her finger, slowly moving it in a circle as well as in and out. Carlotta blushed as she heard the squishy sounds the finger in her cunt was making.

As time passed, Carlotta felt herself climbing toward her climax. She was torn; she wanted the climax but was also afraid she might cum too quickly, since the Master was not calling out the time. Anna sensed her climb and began increasing the intensity of her sucking and licking on Carlotta’s clit. At the same time, she began using another finger, wetted first in Carlotta’s cunt, to begin circling Carlotta’s asshole. Eventually she inserted the first joint into Carlotta’s ass and began inscribing small circles. Carlotta tried to resist, but the combined sensations pushed her over the edge and she climaxed with a scream.

“Nice work, Anna. That was only nine minutes; that earns you six thousand for your car fund. Of course, it also earns Carlotta six strokes.” The Master moved over to the bar and poured them both a glass of champagne and brought it back to them. Both women sipped it, resting and getting ready for Round 2.

After a few minutes, the Master ordered Anna to take her place on the mat. Unasked, she pushed the pillow under her hips, placed the other one comfortably under her head and spread her legs, totally exposing her cunt and ass to Carlotta’s gaze. The Master then hooked up the monitor leads, and nodded to Carlotta when he was finished. Hesitantly, Carlotta positioned herself between Anna’s legs and considered her cunt. “You can do this,” she told herself firmly. “Just do the same things she did to you.”

Carlotta took a deep breath and nodded to the Master, who started the timer. Carlotta’s first licks were tentative, never having tasted another woman’s cunt before. Surprisingly, Anna didn’t taste bad at all, just a slightly musky, spicy taste. As she continued, Anna’s cunt began to flow more heavily and Carlotta realized she actually liked the taste. Carlotta set to work with greater enthusiasm, driving her tongue deep into Anna’s flowing pussy, and licking up her flowing girl-juices eagerly.

Carlotta quickly realized that, since Anna had done this before, she was actually at a slight disadvantage even though Carlotta was inexperienced; she was used to being eaten by another woman and climaxing. For Carlotta, the whole thing had been so new, and yes, embarrassing that it had taken her awhile to begin to relax enough to react. After a couple of minutes, Anna began to squirm around. Carlotta increased her efforts, now focusing her oral efforts on Anna’s clit, which appeared to be more sensitive even than her own, and replacing the tongue in Anna’s cunt with her finger. Remembering how Anna had finally finished her off, Carlotta hesitated and then wet a second finger in Anna’s flowing juices and began using it to play with Anna’s tight little asshole. Anna responded immediately, but then seemed to get a hold of herself and calm herself down some for the next few minutes, so Carlotta increased her efforts, speeding up the strokes from her tongue and driving a second finger into Anna’s cunt. Anna squirmed more and Carlotta could hear her breathing speed up. Carlotta redoubled her efforts and Anna began making little whimpering sounds. After another minute or two, Anna arched her entire body and screamed out her climax.

“Excellent,” the Master complimented Carlotta. “That was thirteen minutes; you seemed to really get into that girl-on-girl action. I wasn’t sure you had it in you. That means Anna gets two strokes, and we will subtract two from the six I already owe you. Let me get you ladies another glass of champagne while you rest a few minutes.”

Both girls watched the other as they sipped their champagne, each of them sizing up the other and wondering what she could do to win the third round. The Master was amused; they looked like two prize fighters, sizing up their opponents. He gave them a full hour, mostly just to heighten the tension.

“Ok,” the Master said. “Time for the final round. If you ladies will take your positions on the mat, I get a second monitor and begin hooking you both up.” Both women positioned themselves on the mat, staring directly into each others cunts while the Master began attaching the leads from the two monitors. “Everyone ready?” he asked. At their nods, he just said “Go!”

Because of the first two sessions, each of the women knew at least a little about what would bring the other to orgasm. Both of them set to it with a will and the sounds of slurping, licking and soft moans filled the room, as well as the smell of aroused cunts. After a few minutes, both women were squirming around, panting between licks and trying desperately not to cum. Finally, Anna arched her body back and unable to help herself, instead of trying not to cum, grabbed Carlotta’s head and held it tightly to her cunt, cuming with a loud prolonged shriek. That drove Carlotta over the edge as well, and she climaxed only instants later. Both women flopped backwards and lay on their backs, breathing heavily and trembling with the aftermath of their explosive climaxes.

“Excellent,” the Master complimented them, bringing each of them another glass of champagne. “That was really close. However, Anna did cum first, even if only by a couple of seconds. That makes the final tally five strokes for Anna and a total of four thousand dollars toward her car fund, including her initial thousand dollar bonus. I also get to fuck her delectable little ass, something I have wanted to do ever since I hired her. Carlotta, you only get a single stroke and of course I get to fuck your cunt. I will do that first, and then have Anna clean me off before I fuck her ass. However, that means you have to clean me after I finish with Anna. Each of you will first have to use your mouths to get me hard for the fucks.”

Carlotta sipped her drink and listened to all this without comment, knowing it had all worked out about as well as she could have expected. The Master let them finish their drinks and then said, “OK, ladies, let’s get started. After watching the two of you all morning, I am definitely ready for some action of my own.”

The Master had Carlotta lay back down on the mat and then attached cuffs and ropes from the ceiling to each ankle. Satisfied he used his remote to raise her legs into the air. Next he moved the ropes further apart until she once again felt the strain in her thigh muscles from an almost complete split. Once she was in position, he moved over to the wall and brought out a strange apparatus. “This is a device for measuring speed. They use things like it in tennis and baseball to measure the speed of the ball in a serve or a pitch. We’re going to use it to measure the speed of the stroke. Each of you is going to administer the punishment strokes to the other. Whoever has the fastest stroke wins. If Anna wins, she gets another five thousand dollars and Carlotta gets five additional strokes from me. If Carlotta wins, she gets a negative five strokes to use on later days and Anna gets my five strokes. I might point out Anna, that you only get one stroke on Carlotta while she gets five strokes on you. You’d better make your first stroke count.”

Jack and his slut drove back to his apartment without talking. When they had parked in the garage, Jack told her to get out and get her dress on. She stepped out of the SUV and opened the back seat. She couldn’t see her dress in the back.

“Ummm, master? I don’t see my dress in the back seat.”

“That’s because I have in my hands.” Jack had stepped out and already started heading to the elevator. She shut the door and rushed to catch up, but not before an older man who had just got out of his car noticed her running by. He was exposed to the wonderful sight of a set of natural 32D breasts, bouncing along on her chest, and a good view of her round bubble butt as she ran past. He couldn’t help it, and he whistled his approval.

She stopped and turned. She hadn’t noticed him standing there. She didn’t realize, but she was now exposing all her forward assets to him, and she saw his eyes travel from her head to her feet and back up. He smiled lecherously:

“Hey babe, I think you forgot something.”

She went a deep shade of red, turned, and ran to the elevator. Her master had just stepped in and she didn’t want to be stuck down here alone with the man. She just got inside as the doors closed. He threw her dress at her feet.

She bent down and put it on, as the elevator kept rising. She had just tied it, when the elevator opened on Jack’s floor.

“Take off the dress.”

She was confused. She had just finished putting it on. He stepped out of the elevator and turned to look at her.

“That’s hesitation. Would you like to make it disobedience?”

She quickly stepped off the elevator and untied her dress. As she was pulling it off her arms, a door opened behind her. She heard it, but didn’t dare turn to look. Jack had a very angry look on his face… And she didn’t want to make her punishment any worse then it already was. He turned and walked to his door. She resigned herself, removed it and walked to the door. She walked in and closed it behind her.

Although she was relieved that she was in the privacy of his apartment, she was also wet enough to fill a pool. The effect of the alcohol from earlier and the fact that at least 2 people in the building had seen her naked had her turned on like never before. She was leaning against the door, on the inside, and her breathing was speeding up. Jack hasn’t said anything since he came in. In fact, she didn’t see him. She headed to the living room and didn’t see him so assumed he would be in the bedroom.

When she walked in, she found him pulling out a toolbox. He opened it and removed a drill, a hammer and some other tools she couldn’t identify.

“I’m heading downstairs to get the bags. Sit down and relax. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you, master. I will.”

Jack figured she would be way too horny to resist taking care of herself. He was planning on catching her in the act, so he hurried downstairs, grabbed all the bags, including his purchases from the sex shop, and headed up.

He was gone about 5 minutes total, so knew she would be either very close to a first cum, or in the process of building up to a second orgasm.

He opened the door slowly, and as expected, found her on the sofa, legs spread and two fingers pistoning in and out of her sloppy cunt. She was so wet you could hear the sound her pussy was making.

Her eyes were closed, and judging by her breathing she was close to her release. He dropped the bags loudly and shouted at her:

“Slut, did I give you permission to play with yourself?”

The look on her face was priceless. Jack almost laughed out when he saw it. He contained himself and continued:

“You are going to have to be taught a pretty severe lesson tonight. It’s too bad, I had something special planned for you.

“But due to your hesitation downstairs and now this… Well, it’s going to be special for a different reason.”

He smiled, trying to make it look evil. She still hadn’t removed her fingers but had stopped moving them. Looked like whatever she had built up to was now on hold, fear having taken over.

“Cunt, don’t just sit there. Squat like I taught you last night.”

She quickly got into position. She just sat there, pussy spread open as shown, and waited.

Jack put the clothing bags away and grabbed the tools. He spent about half an hour installing the hooks and straps and various hardware he bought from the sex shop in the bedroom.

She could hear him working in the other room. Her legs were hurting, and her pussy was feeling pretty cold since her lips were spread and she hadn’t stopped creaming.

Jack finally came back into the living room. He grabbed her by the hair and forced her forward. She stuck out her arms and he dragged her on all fours into his bedroom. Her legs were in pretty serious pain from the squatting and were cramping while she was on all fours. Once in the room, she noticed a few straps around the bed and some hooks on the ceiling and walls. She wondered what they were all for.

He pulled up on her hair, indicating he wanted her to stand up. The pain started slowly dissipating from her knees and ankles as she got to her feet.

Jack was going to test her limits. He wasn’t planning on causing any long term damage, but he wouldn’t stop for some light bruising this time. He grabbed some rope and got started.

He placed her in the centre of the room, at the foot of the bed. Then, he spread her legs and secured them to the feet at the corners. Next, he bent her slightly forward and stretched her arms out to the side. He had affixed hooks into the ceiling, about 2 feet in from the foot of the bed and drew the ropes trough them and tied them off.

She was now secured, her shins against the edge of the mattress, he body angled 45 degrees forward and arms raised in the air and forward.

He had considered this position specifically because her tits would be hanging down, her head would be aiming up, and her ass would be sticking out. For what he wanted to do this evening, these were important factors.

He pulled out a bunch of items from his bag, and the Cunt was wondering what all these things were. He placed the objects at the foot of the bed. He then grabbed a red ball with some straps attached and placed it in her mouth. He attached the leather belt behind her head, making sure it was secure.

Next, he took a rope and attached it to the buckle, pulling her head back and attaching it to a hook in the ceiling. Now he could only look forward, and not see what he would be doing to her body.

“Slut, I want you to know a few things before we get started.

“A year and a half ago, you left me, despite our time together, without any warning or any attempt to work on our troubles.

“Although it left me heartbroken, I tried my best to become a better person and try and win you back.

“When I realized it wasn’t going to work, I decided to move. Just over a year ago, you and I met so I could let you know I was leaving. You happily informed me you were also moving, in with the other guy.

“Well, at that point, all the love I had for you and hope for us became anger.

“I want to hurt you, and I will. And to make sure that no one comes knocking on our door, I have placed a the nice red rubber ball in your mouth. Another reason I have decided to gag you is so I don’t have to listen to you beg me to stop. You will be subjected to all of this, no mercy will be granted.

“So, lets get started.”

She was panicking. She was starting to have doubts. Maybe this wasn’t what she wanted. She expected to be disciplined, some light bondage, maybe some spanking. Everything thus far was perfectly acceptable to her.

But now? He wanted to hurt her for the sake of hurting her. Was she wrong about him? Did she underestimate his feelings since the breakup? All these these questions were going through her mind when she felt a sharp pain at her left nipple, and she couldn’t tilt her head down to see what was causing it.

Jack had just attached a clothespin to her left nipple. Then he attached another to her right nub. He had also tied one end of some thin rope to the pins. He then proceeded to attach more pins, all around her areoles, in an extending spiral till he had reached the outside of her tits.

She couldn’t see what was happening, but the pain was immense. Every second, another sharp pinching pain would hit her from her tits. It was working its way out, from the middle. And what’s worse, the sharp sting was followed by a consistent pain in every spot. She figured he was attaching something to her skin, most likely pins. He had tried to convince her in the past, but she didn’t want to have any marks or bruises on her skin. Now, it felt like hundreds of them were all over her breasts.

He had threaded the rope through the 20 or so pins on each breast. Then, he brought both ends together and ran a single line of pins from the top of her stomach till just above her pussy.

Now came the critical part. He inserted a finger in her pussy and slowly stroked the spongy pad at the roof of her cunt. He wanted her wet and distracted. After about a minute of this slow pace, he pulled out and used the wetness on his finger to rub her clit. He stroked it for over 2 minutes. In that time, her breathing had sped up, her skin was getting rosy, and she was starting to glow from perspiration. He figured he wouldn’t be able to make her cum like this, but he wasn’t planning for that.

She was surprised, after the pain of all the pins, he started playing with her pussy. It was slow, but he was rubbing one of the most sensitive parts of her pussy. In fact, it was too slow. She couldn’t possibly get anywhere close to cumming like that, and when he started to stroke her clit, she became excited. But again, the speed and movement was infuriatingly slow.

He removed his finger and suddenly she felt an explosion of pain, centred on her clit and radiating out. It was more pain than she had ever felt. She tried escaping, but she was secured quite well. She couldn’t move forward or backwards. She was screaming, but the gag was muffling it to a low whine. She caught her breath and the pain still hadn’t subsided. In fact, it seemed to have spread, encompassing her entire pussy. She was screaming in short gasps after a few seconds, although the initial pain had now lost it’s edge, there was still a persistent sting. Combined with the pain in her breasts, she was on the verge of unconciousness.

Jack had played with her until her clit became hard and stuck out slightly. Then, he placed a clothespin on it. He had never witnessed the kind of struggling that his slut had just shown him. He was afraid that she would rip the hooks out and break the board at the base of the bed. She was trying to scream, and luckily the gag did a good job of blocking that, because certainly the neighbours would have asked questions. He was actually surprised, and for a second, almost removed the pin from the reaction he got. But she calmed, and although still freaking out, she wasn’t moving as much and her screaming had reduced. He had taken the opportunity of her distraction to add 3 pins to each labia, with the string through them.

After about 30 seconds, she had stopped screaming and had started sobbing. Her tears were dragging even more of her mascara all over the place. She had already mussed her makeup with her disobedience at the steakhouse, but now the waterworks were causing the black to spread. Drops were hitting the white sheet beneath her and leaving black stains.

He then went back into his bag and pulled out the lube. This is where his plan was going to get him something he wanted from her, the final frontier, if you will. He was going to hurt her, torture her, and he was going to do something she had never thought to let anyone do. He was going to take her anal cherry and he was going to do it with very little regard for her pleasure.

He started by just rubbing some of lube on her asshole. He applied a bit to his index finger, and slowly worked it into her rectum. She started to shake her ass, trying to get away from the probing digit. He slapped her hard on the left ass cheek, leaving a nice red imprint. She seemed to be repeating her unwillingness into her gag. She was even trying to shake her head, as much as her bonds would let her. If she was having such a strong opposition to one finger, he was sure she would hate what was coming next. He had a couple of more preparations to do before he was ready to violate her ass.

After he was sure there was enough lube, he reached into the bag again and pulled out a small butt plug. It had a conical shape, that grew to an inch at it’s widest, then closed up and had a small, narrow handle. It was clearly designed to be inserted and extracted repeatedly. He applied some lube to the plug and started to push it in. Her movements didn’t abate, and he was getting tired of struggling at the tightness of her anal opening, and also the displacement of his target due to her squirming. He decided nice and easy wasn’t going to be enough for this bitch.

“Cunt, I am very very angry. I wanted to do this nice and easy for you, try not to cause you too much discomfort. But it looks like…you…prefer…the hard way!!” He shouted out as he shoved the plug into her ass with full force. At first, it didn’t look like it would give, but the constant pressure and the slightly numbing effect of the lube allowed him enough of an opening to slide the tiny toy into her.

She was becoming delirious. The agony in her cunt was still present, and the pinching of her skin was still causing her considerable pain. As if all that wasn’t enough, Jack had put something in her ass. Hard. She had never tried anal, and truly, never hoped to. She considered it an exit only. She didn’t even think about it when she gave herself to her master. But now, she was frightfully aware of how much control he had, and how little she knew of his intentions. The fear and pain were putting her into a trance. It wasn’t simply arousal or sexual craving, but a sense of loss of control that was liberating her. She finally understood her true needs. She now understood that her mind did not crave the freedom of never having to think or make a decision, but rather, her mind wanted to know that it had no control at all. The extreme pain woke her to the realization that her body wasn’t hers, and she was happy about it. With this epiphany, she also felt something she didn’t think was possible, she felt a climax building in her ass and pussy.

Jack noticed when she relaxed. He didn’t expect it, but it was obvious. One moment she was screaming, and the next, she went almost limp. Then, just as quickly, her knees started to shake. He noticed the pins on her labia were vibrating. This he could now recognize was the beginning of her climax. He moved from behind her and climbed onto the bed next to her. He leaned close to her ear.

“You can cum, slut.”

And she did. All her climaxes today were not enough to reduce the energy and force of this one. Even Jack was stunned. Her whole body started to convulse. It was for all appearances a seizure. Every muscle in her body would tense, then relax, then tense back up. Over and over, for almost a minute. He hadn’t touched her since it started. After a little bit, she finally went fully limp, hanging by the ropes attached to her hands. Her eyes were closed and drool was dripping off her chin from the screaming and moaning. Her breathing was laborious, and every few seconds she would have a tremor. He let her rest for a full 10 minutes while he grabbed a beer and removed all his clothing. He was hard as a rock, the display of her orgasm being something he had never even imagined. He wanted to have his own finish, but he wanted to leave it till the last, and he already knew where he wanted to cum.

After the rest period, he woke her from her unconsciousness.

“Looks like you enjoyed the preliminaries. Shall we get on with the main event?”

She was disoriented from the force of her climax. She wasn’t sure what he meant by main event. But after the eureka moment she had and the power of her cum, she would allow him to do anything he wanted.

He pulled the butt plug out of her ass and grabbed another one, slightly longer and only about a half inch thicker. He lubed it up and added a dollop on her brown eye and started to work it in. She had stopped moving, and despite her breathing and grunting indicating it was defenitely hurting, she kept her ass in place and allowed him to make slow progress. This plug was similar in design to the previous one, and once completely inserted, he applied lube around the protruding part and started to saw it in and out. He would keep the bulbous part lodged in her opening for a second, then push back in, then pull it out till only the tip was in, push it back, then pull and hold at the widest. He was training her sphincter to handle the girth of the plug, and after about 30 strokes, he was able to slide it in and out quite easily.

Then he grabbed another, and this would be the last one. This one was as thick as his cock, a full 2 and a half inches. It wasn’t nearly as long, but that was on purpose. He wanted to be able to get his cock in, but still make her feel the excruciating pain of a rapid and forced insertion. Jack just didn’t want to lose his cock in the process.

After a full 15 minutes with the largest plug, he felt her ass would be ready. If not, too bad. He squirted a bunch of lube in her slightly gaping asshole, then applied some to the head and shaft of his cock. It glistened in the light, as did her ass from all the lube he had used. He rubbed some into her ass cheeks, and then brought his fuck stick to the opening.

She was biting hard into the ball gag. Her asshole was in a lot of pain. She wasn’t sure what he was planning, but the 3 plugs he had used had felt so huge that she assumed he planned to fuck her there. She was certain it wouldn’t fit, and also had the certainty he would make it. Her apprehension was curbed only by the fact that she now knew that pain was the strongest trigger to her sexual fulfilment, and assumed this would bring about more pleasure than agony.

He lined up his cock head and pushed at the slightly distended opening. Surprisingly, his spongy tip entered her with little resistance. Her sphincter was now used to being open, and he figured the hard part was about to start. He push the first 2 inches of his shaft into her, almost 3 inches total, when he felt the first resistance. It was tight, but not in the same way as a pussy. It was definitely more textured and less accommodating. At the 5 inch mark, when more than half his shaft was inserted into her chocolate starfish, she started cramping. The pain was forcing her to contract her anus and colon, enhancing the pleasure for Jack, but making it difficult to go the rest of the way in. This was not going to work, he thought to himself.

“Slut, you need to relax. Just breathe slowly, through your nose. Focus on the feeling of the air entering your lungs.”

She tried to do that, but every breathe brought her more pain from the pins stuck to her breasts and torso. There was no relief. The pain was everywhere. She instead started to focus on the individual points of the pain. She started with her asshole. It felt like it had ripped, and she felt the stretched skin around his warm dick. She focused on it and started to relax her muscles, reducing the cramps. She then tried to open herself, to give her ass to him, and felt another inch slip in. She wanted to tell him to pull back and push in, spreading the lube, but she couldn’t with the gag in place. She also couldn’t rock back and forth, so she just focused on the next point of pain. Her clit was throbbing in it’s vise-like grip. The clothespin would wobble slightly, making sure the pain wouldn’t be forgotten. Her pussy lips felt stretched by the weight of the implements. Her nipples were now numb, being in the grips of the laundry aids for almost an hour at this point. The skin on her tits and tummy felt tight, no doubt because so much of it was pinched to accommodate the fasteners.

The benefit of the concentration was that her mind was distracted enough from her asshole to allow Jack to slip in all the way. He was now buried in her hole. It was an amazing feeling. His sensitive glans was squeezed and released with every deep breath, and the rest of the shaft had a pleasurable pressure on every point. The base of his cock was being gripped by her round muscle, and it was enough to be almost unbearable.

He grabbed the lube and squirted some out around the ridiculously stretched skin, and started to pull out. He pulled and inch, lubed and push back all the way. Every three or four strokes, he would pull out another inch. After about 30 strokes, he was able to slide his whole length, in and out, with adequate lubrication to make the sensation incredible. It was tighter than a pussy, and the ridges of her rear entrance combined with the tightness of her anal opening were stimulations that he couldn’t have dreamed of. Now he understood the obsession of the act. It wasn’t just about the domination, about knowing you had everything a woman could give you, but it was also a most pleasurable feeling for any man’s cock.

The slut on the other hand was not enjoying it as much at first. When he started to use the full length of his cock, her ass started to feel like it was being ripped open over and over again. It wasn’t until about 10 minutes into her asshole’s full introduction to his manhood that she felt more than just the torment of the entry.

Jack wanted to cum, but knew he needed to bring her very close to the edge before he could execute the last part of his plan.

“Well cunt, you are now almost ready for dessert. I want you to remember that you are not to cum until I let you.”

She wasn’t even thinking about cumming. But the ache in her butt was fading, and was being replaced by a very satisfying fullness. If only he would speed up and really fuck her, she might be able to get close.

He picked up on the small changes to her body language. She was trying to meet his thrusts, and her ass was moving side to side slightly. He started to speed up, till about 10 minutes later he was going at her ass with gusto. He was sweating onto her back from the exertion. She was also getting close. He kept fucking her till he was on the edge of his climax, and then burried himself all the way. This started her own climax, and just before he started to erupt, he grabbed the twine and pulled hard downwards, ejecting the clothespins from her pussy, clit stomach and breasts in a domino like progression.

The abruptness of his complete penetration had started her on her road to climax, but the removal of all the clips in such a violent manner caused her brain to explode. Everything went white, and her body lost all control. She came with such force that she completely soaked the bed with piss. Her asshole clenched so tightly, that Jack’s boiling balls were momentarily blocked from spewing their load into her slick passage. As soon as the constriction loosened, he felt like a rope was being pulled out of his cock. There was so much force that he was afraid he would pull a muscle in his dick. It took him almost 30 seconds to stop cumming, which was better than what his slut was going through.

She had already lost control of her bladder, and her eyes had lost focus, seeing just a white light. The pleasure was crashing over her, forcing her to arch her back then relax it, like the motion of waves on a rolling sea. Her arms were tensing and relaxing so hard that she actually ripped the hooks out of the ceiling. Unfortunately, the hook holding up her head didn’t move, and her upper body was now held up by her ball gag. Her arms fell uselessly next to her, her hands just a few inches too short to support her.

Jack couldn’t believe his cunt’s orgasms. First she cums from being spanked, then from having her asshole violated and now from the flash of pain at having over 50 clothespins removed virtually at once.

Then, she fainted. Her asshole lost all it’s grip, and he slipped out with ease. He was starting to soften, and she hung from the strap behind her head. He carefully made his way next to her, and undid the buckle, then gently lowered her to the bed. He didn’t want to leave her there too long, since the contents of her bladder were now all over the lower part of his bed. He undid her legs and picked her up, removing any other ropes he had attached to her. He picked her up and put her at the top of his mattress, and walked to the bathroom the run a bath. He allowed the water to warm up and fill the tub, while he went and carried her into the bathroom. He placed her carefully into the bath, and added some aromatic salts to help her wake up.

She slowly re-entered the world of the living. At first, she didn’t know where she was. She only remembered the most impossible mix of pleasure and pain, and then the fierce reaction of her body to her overwhelming orgasm before she lost consciousness. Not she was enveloped in a warm embrace, and felt like she was flying. As she opened her eyes, she took in her surroundings and found herself in a warm soak in her master’s tub. He was leaning over her, adding some bubbles to the water. He looked at her, and pulled her hair back from her face and smoothed it back. He was petting her, and had a truly pleased look on his face.

“Relax a bit while I figure out what to do with the sheets and mattress.”

Jack figured he would need to toss the whole lot. He didn’t feel like dealing with the mess at all, so he grabbed his smartphone and pulled up the number for the most luxurious hotel in the city. It was late, midnight, but he knew that they wouldn’t refuse to rent out their best room, no matter how short the notice. The phone rang twice before a man answered the phone. He seemed far too cheery for such an hour, but was more that helpful in arranging the room and making sure that the valet would be ready for their arrival. He told him they should arrive around 1:30. Once all the preparations were made, he went back into the bathroom.

He needed a shower, and he wanted to see how his slave was doing. He walked in to find her with her eyes closed, a smile on her face, she had washed her face, getting rid of the makeup and she looked completely peaceful and satisfied.

He stepped into the standing shower and washed himself off. He stepped out and told his pet to get out as well. He dried her off after himself, and told her to get dressed. Something comfortable, without any underwear. He also told her to put on the simplest shoes that Laura had left them. He went to his room and got dressed in some khakis and a polo. He didn’t want the hotel to kick them out, and wanted to exude the air of wealth that his financial situation allowed.

He grabbed a suitcase and put some swimming trunks in along with a few changes of clothes. He figured they would spend a few days at the hotel while he figured out some stuff, and he would need to head into work on Monday, so he packed accordingly. He pulled out another suitcase and headed to the living room to get his Slut to pack her stuff in.

What greeted him was stunning. She didn’t notice him come in, and had just put on her heels. She was standing up, her red hair flowing out, the tips slightly wet. She had put on a simple one piece dress, dark blue. It was tight around the ass, but was loose above it, and basically hung off her left shoulder. It didn’t reveal her body as much as the wrap-around from earlier, but you could clearly see the fabric go over her ample breasts, and it stopped only an inch below her ass, exposing the creamy skin of her legs. It looked so comfortable after everything he had put her through, it revealed another type of sexiness in his little vixen.

The heels were tall, maybe 5 inches, and had a slight platform at the front. She grabbed a clip from the bag and put her hair up, wrapping it in a way to hide the wet tips and complete the classy yet relaxed look she was going for.

Jack handed her the suitcase and told her to empty her bags into it and get ready to leave in a few minutes. He went back into his room and finished packing, tossing in his bag of toys and then closing his luggage. He stepped out, put on some shoes and waited for his Slut. She was just securing the latches on her bag, and promptly lined up.

“Let’s go.”

They rode the elevator in silence. He was tired, and wasn’t in the mood to make his cunt do anything more. One thing he did notice was that his anger was all gone. At least, for now, he was looking at her as an object of beauty, not a place to vent his rage. He couldn’t stop looking at her, and even made her step out of the elevator ahead of him to stare at her from behind.

He was a gentleman, and grabbed her bag, placing both in the back of his SUV, then held the door open for her to step in. He walked around and hopped into the driver’s seat. Before he put the vehicle in reverse, he turned to get another glimpse at her. She was stunning, and looked radiant with a 1000 watt smile aimed directly at him.

They drove to the hotel in absolute quiet. Each one going over the events of the last 24 hours. When they pulled in, the valet immediately approached the passenger side and let out Jack’s beautiful companion, then came over and got the keys from him. He was handed the room keys and a bellhop grabbed the bags from behind the truck. They were lead into the lobby and into a waiting elevator. The bellhop produced two key cards, handing them to Jack.

“Your room occupies the whole penthouse level, sir. You won’t be able to reach it without the key card. This elevator is exclusively for your use, and you will notice there is only a button to close the door.

“Your room is also the most exclusive in our hotel. You will be able to call on your own private butler 24 hours a day, during the length of your stay.”

Jack already knew this, but he didn’t mind the reminder as the elevator climbed up to their room. He had it booked till next Saturday, which should be enough time to arrange a new place to stay, since he had no intention of staying in his tiny apartment. He also wanted to spend some time in the lap of luxury, something he had never really expected would be his fate.

A bell chimed, and the elevator slowly stopped. The doors opened into a foyer of sorts, with marble floors and huge gilded mirrors. When they stepped out, the bellhop lead them through two large cream colored doors. This was the room proper, a huge open space with a large fireplace in the middle, and the two walls on each side made entirely of glass. There was a seating area with red leather couches on the left, sunken down slightly, and including a 60″ flatscreen. On the right, there was a table that looked like it was made of old reclaimed wood and glass, with chairs around it. Behind the fireplace, there was a faux wall, and behind it was the bedroom. The design of the room had no doors, only an opening between the glass and the wall on each side. They were meant as the entry way.

Along the wall they just passed, on te bedroom side, was a credenza, with another 60″ flat screen above. The bed was a huge king size, in the middle of the room, and it was floating above the ground thanks to some magnetic magic.

The bedroom ended with another faux wall, this one with a large fireplace and a frosted glass surrounding it. On the other side, was the bathroom.

The fireplace was actually open to both rooms, and the shower was cleverly placed above it, so that you could be showered in a waterfall and have the fire near your feet, all without being burned. To the left was a huge sunk-in whirlpool tub, big enough for at least a dozen people. This provided a view of the city through the glass wall. The back wall was made of black marble, like the floor, and had his and hers sinks on it, with a stall on each side. The room was incredible, and the view was stunning.

The bellhop placed their bags on the credenza, and walked them back into the main area.

“Don’t worry about unpacking, the butler will be here shortly to see to it, sir.”

He headed for the door, and indicated a large panel on the side next to it.

“There are panels like this all over the room. You can use it to adjust the lighting, the music and the temperature controls. They are also your communications system, allowing you to call for the butler or down to the concierge. If you are all set, I will take my leave now.” He reached for the door and opened it to be greeted by a slim asian woman. She was dressed in an elegant black suit, perfectly fitted, highlighting her narrow waist. The pants were loose fitting, but still indicated that the legs underneath were thin and long. She didn’t have more than A-cups in the way of breasts, but the white shirt was open to the third button. Her face was cute, most likely Korean, with big almond shaped brown eyes, a tiny pointed nose and slender features. She was cute, to sum it up nicely.

The bellhop nodded to her and slipped behind her to the waiting elevator. The young woman, most likely in her very early twenties, came up to Jack and his Slut and introduced herself.

“Hi, I am Semmi, and I am your personal butler for your stay. I am available by pressing the white hand button on your communications tablets and through this phone.”

She handed Jack a small cellphone. It was very basic, just a simple slider with a number pad. But it was made of a metal that almost felt liquid in his hands. It was definitely of great build quality.

“Just press zero, and I will be here in a few minutes.” she continued. “Would you like anything before I unpack your luggage?”

“No, that is fine.” Jack answered. “We are pretty tired from a long day, and would like to get to bed. Can you arrange for a reservation to the Spa for her tomorrow, the full works? Anytime in the afternoon will be fine. Oh, and she will need a bathing suit as well, can you take her out to find one after?”

“Yes sir, that won’t be a problem. Give me a couple of minutes and I will be out of your hair.”

Jack took his Slut by the hand and brought her to the sofa. He sat down and indicated she should cuddle up to him.

“Slut, I am very happy with you. In fact, I am, for the first time in a long time, actually happy in general. For this, you are getting a reward of a spa day tomorrow.”

“Oh thank you, thank you so much, master!!” She smiled up at him.

“Also, I want you to get comfortable here, since we will be staying all week. Tomorrow is your only day off, so use it as you will. I will be gone most of the day, and will probably return around supper time. The rules of the house will apply while we are in the room.”

She thought back to the rules. The conversation took place only 16 hours ago, but it felt like months. She remembered that she was supposed to have her pussy and tits exposed at all times when in her master’s residence, so she hiked up her dress till the tight part around her ass was around her waist, and dropped the shoulder till her tits were exposed.

Jack was impressed. He expected her to go to the room and get changed into a corset. She didn’t even seem to mind that Semmi was still in the room. Speaking of which, she came out just as he reached up to caress one of his slut’s perfect orbs. He didn’t drop his hand when she asked if there was anything else. Actually, she didn’t seem surprised by it at all.

Jack remembered what the waiter had told him earlier. Rich men and young women… These types of establishments didn’t find the behaviour surprising.

“Actually Semmi, there was one more thing. You see, this woman is my slave. I own her completely. She doesn’t have a name, so if you need to address her, you can call her Slut.”

“Yes, sir.” She answered as though it was the simplest request in the world.

“Then that will be all. Have a good night.”

He checked out her rear as she left. The pants were fitted quite nicely around a tiny, yet still round and prominent bum, compared to her thin hips and long legs. Yes, Jack thought, she is definitely fuckable.

He turned back to his Slut, looking down at her while still playing with a nipple.

“Alright, now that we are alone, I wanted to talk to you. Since last night, I have pushed you to perform sexually in ways I found appealing. I am very proud of you. I like nice things, and I don’t mind showing them off, so you can expect that public places are not going to be a safe place for your modesty.

“Also, as this afternoon was clearly an indication, I will fuck other women, sometimes with you, sometimes without. I expect you to service other women, and was happy to see you take to it so well. Laura definitely enjoyed your attentions.

“So now I am going to give you a chance to tell me how you are feeling about this experience. You must keep in mind I am only asking to satisfy my curiosity, and not to adjust my behaviour, so do not try and manipulate me in anyway. Understood?”

“Yes, master, I understand.”

“Alright then, tell me how you are feeling, slut.”

“I am feeling great! I have never experienced anything like today in my life. I can’t even say I have felt anything like even the smallest part of today with you ever before. I have discovered much about me, like the fact that I actually enjoy pain, and love the idea of being nothing more than an object for your pleasure.

“This morning, when you made me get out of the car naked, and when the boys saw me, I discovered that being in public, in compromising situations, made me feel horny like nothing else. I was so excited when I sucked you off, I could feel my pussy leaking.

“Then, at the hair salon, when you told them what you wanted me to look like, I felt like a doll, being made to look like someone or something not for my own needs, but someone elses. They ladies kept asking me who you were, and I just told them you were my master and had full say over me.

“The shopping trip was so much fun! Laura right away asked me what our arrangement was when she came in to the dressing room. She was actually surprised I wasn’t a prostitute. When I told her that you were a rich and powerful man, and owned me, she asked me if I would be jealous if she tried to hit on him. At first, I wanted to tell her to stay away, but then realized that you owned me, and never said I would have you all to myself. I told her to do as she wished.

“I never expected her to get undressed and make me try on all those dresses out in the open. But seeing her do it too, and so seductively made me a bit jealous. I started to respond to her movements, and to try to outperform her.

“I was jealous when you let her slide down your cock, but I couldn’t object since I knew it wasn’t my place. I am sorry master, but I hesitated when you pointed at her pussy. Cleaning your cock while covered with both your cum was already beyond anything I had ever done, and I didn’t know if I could have eaten out a girl, let alone eaten a man’s cum from a pussy. I immediately discovered I loved it, and tried to get all of your deposit out of her.

“The supper was delicious, and the poking you did to me with the fork had me so wet and horny I could barely prevent my hands from reaching under the table. The spanking in the parking lot was enough to get me to the edge, and I came harder than anytime before.

“But nothing prepared me for what you did to me in the apartment. Being forced to endure so much pain put me into a trance-like state. I had never even considered allowing something into my ass, but I reached an epiphany while in the throws of the excruciating agony you inflicted on me. I don’t just want to be your slave, master. I want to give up every ounce of my mind and spirit to you. I want to exist only for your pleasure. Because I now know my true purpose, and I am simply an object for your desire.”

It had been 3 hours. Her friday class usually ended around 4:45 and she was told to be back by 5:30pm. It was now 8:30, her phone was going straight to voicemail, and he was beginning to worry. He sent her yet another text: “3 hours late. where the hell are you??”

Around 8:45, he heard a car pull into the driveway. Moving to the window, he was releived to see that the car was hers. Walking back into the living room, he sat down on the couch to prepare himself for what he knew had to be done. He heard the door open and her keys klink into the bowl by the door. As she came into view, he saw that her hair was wet from the rain outside. She saw him. He stood. “You’re very late, girl. Where were you?”

She looked at him as she took her shoes off. He was surprised at the look about her. “Umm… Out.”

“Out?” She nodded, no longer meeting his eyes. “I’m gonna need a much better explanation than that.”

“Sorry, I went out with Lisa after class and I lost track of time, I guess.”

“You guess? You’re 3 hours late! You know I told you to be home by 5:30, right?


“Yes? Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So why did you decide to disobey me?”

“I dunno.” She glanced back up at him and the look in his eyes must have quelled her a little. “I- I just-” Slowly, he walked over to her until he was inches from her.

“Look at me, girl.” She did. He gave her just a little of that ‘it’s ok to tell me’ look. “Tell me why.”

“S-sir, i’m sorry I just… you said yesterday that w-we were gonna try fucking my ass tonight. A-and I… I didn’t have the best day and i’ve never done it before and I was kinda scared so I didn’t w-wanna come home.”

He looked at her for a few moments. She was trembling, once again looking downward. “So you didn’t lose track of time, then.” It was barely a question.

“…No, sir.”

“So not only were you 3 hours late, but you also lied to me just now.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“You know that if you had just told me how you felt about our plans for tonight, we could’ve talked about it and worked something out, right?” She nodded. “But instead you chose to disobey me and lie to me.” She nodded again. “How do you feel about yourself right now? How have you behaved?”

“I feel ashamed of myself, sir…. I’ve been a bad girl.”

“Yes you did. And you know what needs to happen now, right?”

She took two deep breaths before looking up at him. “I need you to punish me, sir.”

He nodded and went and sat back down on the couch. She followed in silence and stood in front of him. “Hands on your head.” She obeyed. He unbottoned her jeans, unzipped the fly, and pulled her pants down to her knees. For an instant he was distracted by the soft bulge of her mound beneath her green panties. He loved the way it always beckoned him, but he was determined not to lose focus here. “Get over my lap.”

“Yes, sir.” She lay across him and he nestled his left elbow between her shoulder blades and held her right lovehandle with his left hand. He ran his hand across her green panties. “I’m gonna warm you up a little bit, girl, because you’ve got one serious punishment ahead of you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

He began rubbing his hand around her ass, warming it slightly. She had a good-sized ass for a small girl. Under her panties, he knew that there were two round pale tender cheeks to go with her wide-ish hips. “While I warm you up, tell me why you’re being punished.”

“I’m getting punished for coming home late and for lying.”

“How late did you come home?” He squeezed her left ass cheek, kneading it through her panties.

“T-three hours and, um…”

“Three and a half hours, girl.” Smack. He spanked her firmly on her left.

“Yes, sir.”

“So how much punishment,” he squeezed her right cheek, “do you think you deserve for being three and a half hours late, girl?”

“20 swats, sir?” Smack! on her right. She moaned in fear more than pain.

“I don’t think so, girl. You’re gonna get” Smack, on the left. “at least 35 swats,” Smack on the right. “ten for each hour” Smack, on the left. “you were late. And another 25″ Smack, on the right. “for lying to me. Then we’ll see if you’ve learned your lesson.”

Smack, smack, smack, smack. He spent the next minute finishing her warm-up. He pulled her panties up into her ass to check the redness. It was an even pink shade. “Ok, stand up, girl.” She stood. “Hands on your head.” She obeyed. He pulled her pants the rest of the way down to the floor. “Step out.” She did, stepping out and back. He threw them aside, then reached his hand between her legs and pulled her back in front of him by her crotch. She let out a soft whining sound at this, but said nothing as he pulled her green panties down to her ankles, exposing her strawberry-blonde bush. She knew what to do now.

She knelt down in front of him. “Sir, i’m ready now. I was bad. May I please have my punishment?”

“You know you’ve never had a punishment this serious, girl.”

“I know, sir.” She rested her head on his knee and looked up at him. “You’ll- you’ll have to hit me harder than usual. I deserve it. And I know it’s important that you discipline me; I want to be good girl for you, sir.” He looked at her.

“I’m glad you understand what you need. That’s very mature of you, girl.” She smiled a little. He sat back and grabbed a couch pillow and placed it on his lap. “Get back over.” She obeyed, her panties still around her ankles. The pillow now beneath her pelvis forced her ass upward, presenting itself. Just before he began he reached over and stroked her damp hair gently. “I love you, girl.”

“I love you too, sir.”

He raised his hand and brought it down hard on her left sit-spot. She yelped but didn’t move at all. “One, sir.”

SMACK, on the right. “Two, sir.” SMACK “Oww. Three, sir.” SMACK, SMACK “Four, sir. Five, sir,” she hurried.

He continued with her punishment, bringing his hand down hard on her tender ass. She never squirmed or reached back to protect herself. She knew she needed this. But by “F-fifteeen, ssssir,” she could no longer keep from crying. He paused for a moment to stroke her hair and rub her red butt a little. “Do you need some lotion, girl?”

She shook her head gently, “No th-thank you, sir. But…”

“But what, babygirl?”

“I… Sir, I know this is to punish me and I know I deserve t-to hurt, but…”

“What is it, girl?”

“It would help me take my punishment better if I could take my shirt off and feel your arm on my back. It would be comforting is all, sir.” He was utterly taken aback by the sweetness of her request. He sat there for a moment, silent. Apparently she took his silence as a no, because before he could come up with anything to say, she spoke again: “I understand, sir. I deserve to be punished however you want to punish me. I’m sorry for asking. May I… have the rest of my spanking, sir?”

Finally collecting himself, he said “Get up.” She obeyed. As she stood up, he could see her eyes searching his for what to expect. “Eyes on the floor, girl.” he said, sternly. Her eyes snapped downward. “Kneel in front of me.” She did, never looking up. “Arms up.” She raised her arms straight up. He leaned forward and pulled her shirt up over her head and tossed it aside. “All fours.” She dropped forward onto her hands and knees, her face more or less against the edge of the couch. She was still sniffling a little and he noticed her wipe her cheek against the couch to dry a tear. Her back presented, he reached between her smooth shoulder blades and undid her bra. “Kneel up.” She knelt back up, her bra hanging limply from her the edges of her shoulders, her right breast no longer contained. “Take it off and toss it away.” It was unusual for her to be allowed to undress herself during a punishment, but she whispered “Yes, sir.” as she slowly, sensually took off her bra and sat up in a posture that presented her tits to him while keeping her eyes obediently on the floor. Her submissive presentation of her breasts aroused him greatly, despite himself. Her breasts were b-cup, a round handful, with wide pink aereolas that he knew were always highly sensitive to the touch.

He must’ve sat there transfixed for a moment because she began to slowly shift her weight back and forth, lightly bouncing her tits back and forth. That snapped him out of it and it occurred to him that she may have been playing for time or hoping to get him hot enough to abandon her punishment altogether. Much as she turned him on, he was determined not to be lax in her discipline. “Back on my lap, girl.”

She slowly stood and began to lean over him. “May I lay on your lap, sir?” she asked, indicating the pillow he’d used to prop her up. He nodded. She removed the pillow, brushing her hand against his bulging pants as she did so and then she laid across him, using the pillow to rest her head in. With the pillow gone, his erection was now pressing against her, with only his pants between his cock and the soft flesh between the bottom of her tummy and the top of her mound. He rubbed her elegant now-bare back with his left hand and then settled it into position with his elbow between her shoulder blades and his hand on her love-handle.

“You’ve had 15. And i’m not gonna stop again; that was the one break you get. Do you understand me?”

“I understand, sir.” SMACK, “Sixteen, sir.” SMACK, “Seventeen, sir.” Each time he spanked her now, the impact would stimulate his cock underneath her just a little. He decided to hit harder. SMACK! “Oooowwwwwww! …Eighteen, sir.” SMACK! “Nineteeeeeen, sir.” She was crying again now. SMACK! “Twwweeeeenty, s-sir.” She lay sobbing over him.

“Ok, you’ve got 15 more left for the lateness. And i’m going to keep spanking you this hard, understand?”

“Yessss, sirr.”

“But you don’t have to count these.” He grabbed the lotion from the side table. “I know you’re gonna be crying some more, so just put you’re head into the pillow and cry all you want. I’m putting lotion on your ass, cause it’s pretty red now.” He began applying it. He knew it would sooth her momentarily, but also increase the sting when he resumed.

“Thank you, sir.” she said as she felt him apply the cool lotion to her butt. He rubbed it in for a few moments, and then SMACK SMACK SMACK! “AAAAaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!”

“Pillow, babygirl.” Her cries were muffled as she buried her face in the pillow and wailed. He didn’t stop: SMACK SMACK SMACK! Her legs began to kick at the knee. SMACK SMACK SMACK! Suddenly she reached up with her left hand and grabbed his. This wasn’t unheard of, but instead of holding his hand, she deftly pulled his arm from her back, lifted herself up just enough to cup his hand and place her left breast in it. SMACK SMACK SMACK! Her tit giggled as her body was wracked with sobs. SMACK SMACK SMACK! He exhaled deeply. “That was 35, babygirl.” Her body continued to shake. Still holding her breast, he used his right hand to rub more lotion on her burning red ass. Then he gently rubbed her back, sides, and shoulders until she was calm. “Go ahead and sit up when you’re ready.”

She brought her face up from the pillow, her face still streaming with fresh tears, and knelt up so that she was kneeling on the couch beside him. He looked at her, “I hope this helped you learn your lesson, girl.” She nodded contritely, but said nothing and avoided his gaze. “You know why I had to do this, right?”

She nodded again, but again said nothing. “Babygirl,” he said, “I needed to discipline you because when you’re late and I don’t know where you are, I get worried. I was afraid that something might’ve happened to you. I can’t stand that because I love you.”

She looked at him and after a second she flung her arms around him, crying all over again and holding him tightly. “I’m so sorry, sir. I love you so much. I’m so sorry.” He adjusted his weight and deftly shifted her so that she was sitting on his lap.

“It’s ok, babygirl. You did very well; you took it like a good girl. I forgive you, I forgive you.” She buried her face in his shoulder and neck, their arms around each other. Her breathing gradually calming to match his. With her breathing returning to normal, she seemed to be alright now, though he was certain her ass must’ve still hurt a lot. In the aftermath of her punishment, he seemed to have forgotten about his throbbing erection. Far from dissipating it, having her crying naked on his lap had kept it going quite well. And as she began to emerge from the final sniffles of her punishment, she seemed to notice, as well.

Her face still nuzzled close to his, she gave one last sniffle, smiled at him, and laughed a little, “It’s nice to know I never lose my ability to turn you on.” He just laughed softly and kissed her on the cheek. Frankly, he was pretty tired by this point. Despite his boner, he was content just to sit there for a little while, cuddling her in his arms, feeling her soft skin against him. He nestled his head now, into the small of her neck and breathed deeply. She put one her hands against the back of his head, and then began to move slightly on his lap. At first he thought she was just getting comfortable, but he quickly realized that she was slowly grinding her naked, spanked-raw ass against the cock in his pants. He began to kiss her neck where his head was already resting, slowly and softly. “Sir?” she whispered to him.

“Yes, babygirl?”

“Thank you. For everything. For my discipline, for loving me.”

He gazed at her. “I’m really glad you understand.”

“And I really do want to thank you, sir.” She got off of his lap and stood up. She leaned over and kissed him deeply and lovingly. Still naked, she knelt in front of the couch and undid his belt buckle. She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

“Babygirl, you don’t have to.” he told her gently.

She reached into his pants and pulled his cock out. “I want to, sir.” She slowly licked from the bottom of his cock to the head. “You take such good care of me. May I please suck on your cock, sir?”

There was no longer any point (if there ever had been any) in restraint. “Oh suck me, girl.” With that she lowered her full lips to the tip of his cock and kissed it. She slowly slid her mouth down over more and more of his cock until he felt his cock hit the back of her throat and looked down to see himself buried to the hilt inside her mouth. Then she began to suck in earnest, literally sucking him and slowly drawing his cock back out. He was amazed that he didn’t simply cum at that, but she did it again and again and then began going faster. Eventually, she was slamming her head down onto his cock with a speed and vigor that he’d only ever experienced when he’d face-fucked her. But this was all her. Finally she drew him out slowly one more time. “Sir, could you take your pants off?” He didn’t even reply; he just stood up quickly and got out of his pants. “Sit back down, sir.” she grinned, “And hand me the lotion?” He did, not knowing quite what to expect, but sure it’d be good.

She took the bottle of lotion and put it on the floor next to her. Then she leaned back toward him and started licking his balls playfully while pumping his cock with her hand. He threw his head back to enjoy this, but after only a few moments, her hand was gone from his cock, though she still had her mouth on his balls. He looked back down and saw her opening the lotion and squeezing some onto her tits. Then she released his balls and knelt back to give him a full view of her tits as she rubbed them with lotion. Before she covered it in lotion, she lifted her right tit to her mouth and licked her nipple, then sucked it, then released it and smeared lotion all over herself. She knew how he loved her curvy body so she lotioned her entire torso for him to watch. He did notice, to his amusement, that she didn’t miss the opportunity to put more lotion on her spanked ass either. She knee-walked closer to him and lowered her tits around his cock, squeezed them together, and fucked her tits with his cock. He noticed she even managed to pinch her nipples a few times while tittyfucking. He was about to blow it and she must’ve read it on his face because she stopped, picked up her discarded panties from before her spanking, and used them to wipe the lotion from his cock. Then she looked him lovingly in the eyes and asked, “May I please have your cum in my mouth, sir?”

“Yes, girl.” He stood up and put his cock in her mouth and fucked her mouth until he shot his cum into her. “Suck it clean now, girl.” She swallowed his cum and licked his cock clean, then beamed up at him. “Good girl.”

“I love you, sir. Thank you for disciplining me.”

“I love you too, babygirl,” he said, panting, “but don’t forget that was only for the lateness. We still have to teach you a lesson about lying, don’t we, girl?”

She popped into an overly innocent look. “Now, sir?”

He sighed and stroked her cheek, “Go to the bedroom and get ready, babygirl. I’ll be up in half an hour.”

“Yes, sir.” She stood up and turned to go. He stopped her and pulled her towards him and they kissed deeply and lovingly. After a few minutes, she turned and went upstairs. He put his pants back on and looked at the clock to note the time.

He spent most of the half hour pacing. He didn’t want to do this; she’d been punished enough and taken it well. But he had told her she’d get 25 swats for lying and he knew he couldn’t just not punish her for lying to him. That would be failing her. Finally, he thought of a compromise. At half an hour, he headed up to their room.

He found her in bed curled in a ball under some blankets. At first he thought she was asleep, but she turned after a moment. He still felt bad about this, but then she smiled at him unexpectedly. “Sir?”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“You shouldn’t feel bad about this. You didn’t make me lie to you, or be late.” She had a calm smile on her face as she spoke. “I did those things. I was bad, and I need to be disciplined. You’re punishing me because you love me, I know that. And I really am thankful for it, I wasn’t just looking for an excuse to suck your cock earlier.” He laughed a little. “I really meant it as a thank you.”

“You’re wonderful, babygirl.”

“But I was a bad girl tonight, sir.” She got up off the bed, still naked, and walked around to the bed toward him. When she got to him she kissed him just below his right ear and whispered, “I’m ready.” She turned about and went to the end of the bed and bent over the footboard, baring her still-red butt for him.

He cleared his throat after a moment and tried not to let his voice be anything but firm, “I’m going to give you a choice, girl, about your punishment. I told you you’d get a spanking of 25. You can still have that, or you can choose the quicker option of 10 with a belt.” He’d never used a belt with her before. He could tell she was unsure.

After a moment, she said, “Thank you, sir. I’ll take the belt, please.”

“Then stand up and follow me, girl.” She obeyed. He led her from their room into the bathroom and closed the door. He went to the shower and turned it on. He waited for a few moments for the water to become hot. “Get in, girl.”

“Yes, sir.”

He then took off his own clothes and went in behind her. Feeling the warmth engulf them both, he put his arms around her waist, settling into a backhug. She clearly hadn’t expected this and he could feel in her body that she was relaxed by it. He said nothing, just embraced her beneath the hot water, swaying slightly. His cock was nestled between her ass cheeks. Moving her gorgeous wet hair aside, he rested his head forward so that his face was against her neck and shoulder. They stood there, naked together, the water flowing over them both. He felt her pulse. And even in the shower he adored the smell of her. He loved her so much. He needed to communicate this to her deeply, without words. She leaned back into him as well. For several minutes, they both lost themselves in feeling the other there against them. He placed his right hand around her chest, resting over her heart. The gesture was profoundly felt for both of them. She turned her head to his and they kissed tenderly.

Writer’s Note: Fiction – After Gregg’s marriage to Susan ends, he rents a room from Lynette and finds himself in a world of complication.

Unfortunately, my marriage to Susan did not work out well. Some months after our divorce, I was short of money, and so rented a room from a professor at the university named Lynette.

She was quiet, slender and obviously very intelligent. She taught a full load of courses, and was working on a book that would turn out to be her ticket to tenure. At first, our relationship was quite tense, and it was like she didn’t feel free to be herself around me. Obviously this was difficult for her, because if you can’t be yourself in your own home, where can you be? Also we would quarrel periodically over whether or not I was doing my fair share of the chores.

Finally to break the ice a little bit and hopefully put things on a friendlier footing, I suggested that at least one night each week, one of us would do all the cooking and we would have dinner together. She agreed.

The first night was my turn. I think I cooked spaghetti and pesto, which I didn’t really care for, but she liked it a lot. I did all the cooking myself and set the table. As dinner commenced I found myself spending most of the time waiting on her, pouring her wine, bringing her dessert, etc. I wouldn’t let her do a thing. We had a wonderful conversation. After dinner she told me she was impressed that I’d waited on her the whole meal, and that she enjoyed being waited on. I replied that I liked waiting on her, and would be happy to do it again.

Two nights later, she fixed the meal. She didn’t wait on me, but we had another excellent conversation. So we kept our new tradition going. She was much more relaxed, but it still felt like she wasn’t entirely comfortable. A couple of weeks later, we again quarreled about the chores. I was tired of the tension so I suggested to her that she just make a list of chores she wanted me to do and I would do them.

She told me she thought that was kind of weird but that she sort of liked the idea. “Why don’t we start Saturday,” she said. I agreed, and we hugged each other, both of us glad that the disagreement was behind us.

Saturday came around and she presented me with a long list. I told her the list looked like a lot more than half, and she just smiled. She asked me what we would do if the chores were not completed to her satisfaction. Sort of as a joke, I said, “Well I guess you could spank me.” She told me that sounded like a wonderful idea and told me to get to work.

About three weeks later she came home one Saturday evening and noticed some dust bunnies on the floor where I was supposed to have swept. Immediately she stalked over to the couch where I was reading a book and said, pointing at the dust bunnies, “This is totally unacceptable.”

I looked over, sort of went, “Ulp!” and apologized. She told me an apology was not nearly sufficient and reminded me of what we had agreed three weeks before. “You didn’t mean that did you?” I asked. “Of course I did,” she said.

She told me to get the broom, and re-do that part of the floor, and when I was done to present myself to her in her home office. I did as she asked, and a few minutes later was standing before her. “Take down your pants,” she said. I asked why. “You know perfectly well I can’t have much effect through those jeans,” she said. “And I don’t want to hurt my hand.

I pulled down my pants. “OK. Get over my knee,” she said. I thought for a moment, but had found I really didn’t mind the chores from her list, and furthermore did not want to spoil our new rapport. I did as she said. She proceeded to paddle me for what seemed like a half hour. It hurt a lot. After she was done she caressed my face for a second and told me, “You know we both need this, don’t you?” I nodded. Then she had me go to my room for the rest of the night.

A week or so later, she called me from the office on her night to cook dinner and asked if I could do it instead because she’d reached a difficult point in her research and did not want have to think about anything else if she could help it. I agreed and told her if she got home in time, I’d be happy to cook for her instead.

It did not happen that night, but soon I was cooking for her and waiting on her, first two nights a week, then more, and eventually every night she was home. This was in addition to my weekly chores. The spankings also became a weekly ritual.

One Friday evening I came home late from work, and found her dressed in a cute black sheath and fooling with her hair. She looked amazing and she had this wonderful conspiratorial smile on her face. I admit I had a hope the smile and the hot getup were for me, but she quickly put that notion to rest.

“I’m so glad we get along well now!” she exclaimed. “It’s put me at ease and I’ve got a real date tonight. I was beginning to feel like no one wanted me,” she said. I didn’t know what to say to this because I certainly had felt very attracted to her. She gave me a quick hug, and was out the door. “Don’t you dare wait up,” she said.

I didn’t. About 10 the next morning, while I was reading the paper in the living room, she came in the front door, still wearing that nifty sheath, but very disheveled. She had a happy grin on her face but still looked just the tiniest bit sheepish. “You silly maniac,” I said.

“I couldn’t help myself,” she replied. “It had been so long, and he was just so cute!” she replied. “He’s a hot lover, too. It was great.” With that she bounced past me toward her bedroom and slept until late in the afternoon.

In the evening she had me cook her dinner, and after I’d cleaned up and put the dishes in the sink, she asked me to sit down and then looked at me with a strange look on her face. “You want me. Don’t you?” she said. I nodded. “That’s why it’s amazing you were so supportive when I came in that morning.

“I’ll be honest,” she continued. “I have no desire to settle down right now in a conventional relationship with a man, but I do love living with you the way we have it now.”

“I want you,” I said, “But I feel comfortable with you right now, and I wouldn’t change a thing. It did hurt me a little last night when you told me you were going out on a date with someone else, but I loved how happy it made you, and I sort of decided I was just going to do what I could to help you stay happy.”

“It’s perfect,” she said. “I can really be myself with you now. I can have you as my kept domestic man at home, and still live as a single liberated woman. Is this really OK with you?”

“Yes,” I said nodding. “For some reason it is. I just love helping you be happy and comfortable. I’ll do this for as long as you like.” She got out of her chair, pulled me to my feet and hugged me fiercely. “I’ll see to it you’re not sorry,” she said.

With that she took me by the hand and led me to her home office. She asked me to kneel in front of her chair, and then sat in front of me. She was wearing a big white shirt with a belt, and I could see the panties peeking out from under it. Her legs looked wonderful.

Quickly she pulled down her panties and pulled my face into her sex. I pleasured her for upwards of an hour, and when she was done, she pushed my head back, and asked me to pull up her panties. I did so without a whimper, but I hated to see her disappear back inside her clothes.

She went into her bedroom, shut the door, put on a nightdress, and called me in to rub her back. After she was satisfied she sent me to my room. That night I masturbated four times, and the next day I was in a bit of a cranky mood.

“You look out of sorts,” she said when she handed me the chore list for the week. “Yes. I guess I am,” I replied. “So what’s the matter,” she said.

For some reason I got brave. “I’ve got to be honest,” I said. “I think I’m hurt because you went to bed with a guy Friday night, and then last night you let me do oral sex on you, but there was nothing else. That bothers me.”

“Didn’t you masturbate?” she asked me. “Yes I did. Four times,” I answered. “Wow!” she said. “You really ought to be a happy camper right now, but you’re as down in the dumps as I’ve seen you since you started doing chores for me.

“Let me ask you a question,” she went on. “How many times did you masturbate in the last three weeks?”

“Not at all,” I replied. “But you were happy then,” she said. She thought for a moment.

“I think I know what the problem is,” she said. “I’ve read about this. A man is happier when he is not sexually spent, and it’s up to me to provide discipline so you don’t get sexually spent, and that way you’ll be able to be happy.

“Do something for me,” she went on. “Just go about your chores for the rest of the day, and go to bed like normal. And then wake up and go to work like always. But do something for me. Don’t touch yourself. Not at all, except to pee. Can you do that?”

“I think so,” I said, nodding slowly. “Good,” she said. “We’ll talk when you get home from work tomorrow.” She patted my cheek, looked me in the eye, and just smiled.

After a day of doing household chores for her, I was hard as a rock. She was in her study all day, and then went out with a girlfriend for dinner. I saw almost nothing of her, but my promise to her not to touch myself was keeping me excited. I wanted to so badly.

But a promise was a promise, so I didn’t. The next morning I again was amazingly hard, but I kept my word. I got up, ate a little breakfast, and went to work. Though I felt intense physical frustration, my mood actually improved. Around 5:30 I got home.

Between chores and preparing and cleaning up after dinner, there was no time to have a conversation, but she did not seem to mind. After I got done, she told me to go to my room, sit on the floor, and think about the weekend. She would call me when she was ready.

After about an hour she called me into her office. There she sat in a chair with a short nightgown on. She looked wonderful and her eyes were twinkling. “I think you should take off your clothes,” she said. “You’ve got a beautiful body, and I’d like to see it.”

Without a word I stripped to the buff. I was red-faced, and it amused her to see me blush. “You’re shaved!” she exclaimed. “This is wonderful. You’ve done this before! Haven’t you?”

I nodded. “Tell me all about it,” she said. So I did. I told her the whole story of my relationship with Cynthia, and how that had ended; how I had messed it up, how I had married Susan, how that had petered out, and about how I found out Susan had been cheating on me since even before we got engaged.

“That’s a shame,” she said. “It’s terrible your wife would go behind your back like that. You’re a decent guy, and you deserve better. She gave me a warm hug with me there on my knees, nude, in front of her. She held the clinch for a couple of minutes.

When she let go of me, she said, “I want you to perform oral sex on me tonight. Right now.” With that she opened her legs. No panties at all tonight, and I did as I was asked. She was amazing. She bucked and screamed and seemed like she couldn’t get enough. It went on for more than an hour this time.

When she was done, she looked me closely in the eye, and said, “That was truly wonderful. I am one lucky woman.

“Now I want you to go to bed,” she continued. “But this time I want you to not masturbate at all. And I want you to call in sick at work and spend the day getting your chores done. Then we’ll talk. Don’t touch yourself at all now. OK?”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, ma’am.” She smiled as I gathered up my clothes and left the room.

The nest morning I was a jumble of intense emotions as I began my chores. While I was completing these tasks, she worked away on her book. Occasionally as I went past her office she would give me a glance or a knowing smile. But we didn’t speak.

About mid-afternoon I was done. Immediately I went to my room, took off my clothes, walked to her office and presented myself on my knees at her feet. When she turned to face me, I bent down and kissed each foot gently. In spite of my quiet demeanor I wanted her more than ever.

She sat there smiling for a moment and looking me over. “You are a delicious man,” she said. “Thank you, ma’am,” I replied. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“I’m frustrated. I’m mad with desire. I want to grab you so badly it hurts.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “That’s not what I meant. Are you happy right now? Are you at peace with our relationship?”

“It’s crazy but yes I am happy. And even though I feel totally frustrated in my body, when I’m in your presence and when I’m doing things for you and even when you’re out taking your pleasure with some other guy, I feel at peace at the same time I feel frustrated and jealous.”

She got a little more serious now. “You’ll have to do something about that jealousy,” she said. “I care for you more than any man I’ve ever had, but I need my freedom too much to do this any other way with you. And I still have the same physical needs as any other woman, and that means I have to see other men to get what I need.

“If you can’t accept this, I’m going to have to ask you to move out, and we won’t be able to see each other again. I would hate that.” I could feel how much she cared, and how wonderful she was, and the deep spiritual feeling that was growing in me out of my intense desire for her. “I’ll do this for you,” I said quietly. “I’ll do it your way.”

She hugged me close and kissed me gently on the lips. “You’re making the right decision, you know,” she said. “Even though it’s going to be hard for you sometimes, I’ll see you won’t regret this.”

At that she leaned back in her chair and told me she was going to impose some new rules. She ordered me to begin keeping a journal of all my emotional, erotic and desirous thoughts. She told me she wanted to read this two to three times a week. She said that way she could learn of any of my thoughts that were incompatible with our relationship, and work on weeding those out of me. “Also, I expect it’s going to be pretty hot,” she said with that guilty smile of hers. “I give you permission to be graphic.”

She told me I could no longer masturbate without permission, and I could not ask more than twice a month. She told me she was at her most excited after coming home from being with a man or when she was on her period, and she was going to insist I take care of her pleasure during those times, in addition to any other time she was to ask.

In addition she said she occasionally would entertain her men friends at home, and I would be absent, the soul of discretion, or the perfect servant, as each occasion and her mood dictated. I was to start serving her breakfast in bed every morning, and if from time to time I had to do that for both her and her lover, I was to do it without complaint.

She said she liked the way I had presented myself naked at her feet, and that she wanted me to do this every time I handed over my journal for her to read, and every time I presented myself for punishment.

I told her I would do all this, and another phase of our relationship began that day. I became a perfect servant. It was difficult learning to please her orally after she had just had a man, or while her menstrual blood was flowing, but she enjoyed it so much I was thrilled she had asked me to do it.

For me it also hurt each time she went on a date, and even more the few times she brought a man home. I had to be perfectly courteous on these occasions, and keep a smile on my face, whether or not I was actually performing service at the time. The times I had to serve breakfast in bed to her and the guy she’d just had were the worst.

But I’d gotten to know her better and I could see she needed this, and I could see how happy it made her when I did what she asked. So I just sucked it up the first few times, and began empathizing with her happiness and the pleasure she took in these trysts. I began to like it because I could see it was working for her.

The best part was the journal. I did exactly as she asked and recorded each and every one of my amorous thoughts in graphic detail. She truly did enjoy reading it. And when my fantasies were such she did not think proper she devised a system of punishment to encourage me to become entirely centered on her. I felt even more naked in front of her than ever before when she was reading the journal. It was scary, but it was hot.

She would ask me questions about my fantasies and sometimes ask me to go into even greater detail. Sometimes she would touch herself in front of me, or ask me to read the journal to her so she could use both hands. On journal nights I was never allowed to masturbate, and so the only pleasure I got was empathizing with her pleasure and fantasizing about her.

After she was done, if she did not approve of the fantasy, she would lecture me on the need to purify my thoughts of anything female except the Great Goddess and her. Sometimes she would spank me and sometimes not.

She then would lead me into a walk-in closet in her bedroom and leave me to meditate on her, to refocus my fantasies upon her, and to realize that submissive fantasies were preferable. I could be in the closet for anywhere from a half hour to the entire night. She would tie my hands behind me so I was unable to touch myself.

She would sometimes masturbate loudly when I was in the closet. Twice she went out after I was placed in confinement and brought home a lover. My feelings, as I heard her pleasure and his grunts drove me to distraction and into even deeper obedience. All I knew was the relationship seemed to be making us both very happy.

After one journal session, she looked at me closely and asked, “Why do you think you’re nude when we do this?” I thought for a second and said, “Because it’s sexy?”

“For you or for me?” she asked. “Well of course for you, but for me, too. It’s very hot,” I said.

“I can see that,” she said smiling and surveying my erection. “But that’s not the whole reason. Why else?”

“Because you enjoy looking at my body?”

“That I do,” she said. “But again that’s not the real reason. Why do you think I don’t take clothes off when we do this?”

Now I was confused. “I don’t know,” I said. “Because you don’t want to?”

“Hmm!” she said. “If I wait for you to figure this out, I think we’ll be here all night.

“Let me just tell you. You are nude because you are supposed to be open to me and to whatever I might want to do with you. You are laid bare and revealed to me, with no holding back. That’s what the journal is about, too. You are giving everything to me.

“I remain clothed to remind us both that even though I care for you and love you deeply I am not yours in the same way. Also it shows, just like your inability to grasp what I was talking about a moment ago, that no matter how hard a man tries he is not capable of knowing the deepest truths of a woman. My clothes show that no matter how hard you try, there always will be a great deal about me that you cannot hope to understand.

“And because you cannot understand, you cannot possess. Because I do understand you, and your gift of openness and submission, I have the right to possess you. That’s also why it is necessary for you to be exclusive to me, because you cannot understand anything at all without focusing all your emotional attention and your greatest efforts on me, while I can take your entire self into my heart and still have room for more.”

I felt a sense of wonder as I listened to this, and everything she said felt so right. As soon as I finished, I burst into tears as I knelt humbly and covered her feet with kisses. “Thank you for allowing me to be so close to you,” I said. “It’s so wonderful to know where I belong with you, and to feel so good about it. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I felt her hand soft on top of my head as I worshipped. After several minutes, she put her hands on my arms and raised me up in front of her. “Will you be mine?” she asked.

“Yes. Yes I will,” I breathed. “Just exactly as you want me. Your way is the right way.”

“Then thank you, my sweet boy. You are mine, and I will use you well.” At this she lifted me by the hand and brought me to the bedroom. She lay on the bed, pulled off her pants and panties, and asked me to perform oral sex on her.

After we were done, she reached into the nightstand and brought out one of her dildoes and a strap-on harness. She had me put it on her and had me place the dildo into its fitting. “Get on the bed on your hands and knees,” she said. “Now I’m going to make you truly mine.” And that is exactly what she did.

It was a little difficult at first but she slowly and patiently opened me up. I felt plumbed and opened and known and owned. I was hers, heart, body and soul. Afterwards she held me for a long time spoon fashion. Then she pointed to a sleeping bag on the floor at the foot of her bed and told me she wanted me to spend the night there. Though I was amazingly aroused I slept very well indeed.

A week later she took me to a tattoo parlor and had me strip for the tattooist. She showed him a design and asked him to put “Property of Lynette H.” in the middle of it. She wanted one just above and to the right of the join between my penis and my torso, and another, exactly the same on my left bum. “That way anyone who takes off your pants will know,” she said.

The tattooing was excruciatingly painful. While he was working Lynette flirted with him, bragging how I was her complete slave, and that she kept me faithful, but she could have anyone she wanted. The flirting got more intense as the tattooing went on.

When he was done, Lynette grabbed my shirt and threw it over my face and said, “The rest of this is none of your business. No touching yourself now.” I only heard the rest, especially her passionate moans and exclamations. I’m not sure how long it went on. I was glad in a way that the shirt was over my face because my face was totally red with embarrassment. There was no way, however to hide my sexual excitement.

When they were done, they chatted a bit as they got dressed. Then she gave him a quick kiss and whispered something. Immediately she climbed on the table, pulled the shirt off my face, straddled me there, and presented her sex. This was the first time I’d met one of her lovers away from the house, and it was excruciatingly embarrassing to taste him from inside of her. Her arousal was powerful and I know she got off at least twice.

After she was done she pulled up her pants and inspected the tattoo next to my sex. “Looks good,” she said. She then gently grabbed me, and slowly stroked me off. “I’m doing this because you were so brave for me today,” she said “You’ve proved you can accept me and everything I do.”

“It just makes me want you more,” I said Soon I exploded all over myself and all over her hand. Immediately she brought her hand to my mouth and I knew I had to lick myself off her. I did it weeping with happiness It was the first time since we met she had touched me to get me off. After, she took my face in her hands and gave me a slow deep, open mouthed kiss. “Thank you, Mistress,” I said.

She continued to see the tattoo artist on the side for about two more months, but her mood began to get worse. “He’s just so harsh,” she said. “And after the gentle way you are with me, I’m not sure I can stand it. I’m not even sure I want to have that kind of sex any more.”

“But you’re entitled to it,” I said.

“Yes I know, but I’m not sure I even want it any more. Maybe I need a woman’s touch.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but it’s something I’ve got to think about. I think I need you to sleep in your own room tonight. I have to be alone for this.”

This hurt me. I had been sleeping at the foot of her bed since the night she took me and made me hers. But it was what she wanted and it had become very arousing to simply obey her.

One day, while I was completing my allotted chores, Lynette rushed up to me with a big smile on her face, gave me a big hug and said, “I have wonderful news!”

“Really? What?” I asked.

She told me one of her best friends from her years abroad had just written and said she would be in town in a couple of weeks, and could she stay with Lynette. The friend’s name was Lucia, and she was Brazilian. She was the daughter of a wealthy landowner. Lynette and she had traveled all over Europe together several years before.

I haven’t mentioned this before but Lynette spoke at least seven languages. Sometimes I would hear her jabbering on the phone in one of them, but she never told me who she was talking to or what she was talking about. “It’s what I keep telling you. You are incapable of knowing everything about me, and this is one thing you are going to be unable to grasp,” she told me one time.

Lucia was multilingual as well and Lynette gushed on about how brilliant she was and how much fun to be around and how amazingly beautiful she had been. “She may be the sexiest human being I’ve ever met,” said Lynette with a smile.

“I’m gong to talk to her on the phone tomorrow and I’m going to tell her all about you,” she continued. “Lucia had servants the entire time she was growing up, so I think she’s going to enjoy having you around.”

“You and she aren’t lovers, are you?” I asked.

“No. No, we’re not,” she replied. “Not that it’s really any of your business,” she added with a wink and a smile. “She’s very, very special, though.”

That night she did not ask me to service her and asked to be alone while she slept.

The next day after work she knelt me down in front of her and said. “I talked to Lucia and we’re both really excited. I told her all about you and she loved it”

“That’s great,” I said.

“I’m not sure you’ll think so when you hear what’s next.” She then proceeded to tell me Lucia had said Lynette was far too lax with me, that Lucia had had male servants like me and that she believed the mistress had to be firm and not indulgent with them.

“She told me I had to be much more firm,” Lynette said. “And I should be disciplining you physically more, that you should be willing to endure pain for me, and that it is self-indulgent of a mistress to gratify herself with a slave. You know I haven’t been in all that good a mood lately, and so I’ve decided to take her advice and see if it makes things better.”

“What does this mean?” I asked, shocked. “Does this mean you won’t ever let me perform oral sex on you?”

“This proves she was right,” Lynette said. “You’re just focused on sex exactly as she said you would be. She says that means your service isn’t really unselfish, and that it’s not really service unless it’s unselfish.”

I hung my head, but after a moment looked up and said, “I’ll do what you say. Even if this changes, I’ll stay true to you.”

“Maybe you’re more unselfish than she thinks,” Lynette said with a smile. She hugged me and sent me to the kitchen to fix dinner.

That night was our journal night. When I went to present myself at her feet, I was surprised to find her in a formal business suit, as opposed to nightwear or lingerie or just the informal clothes she usually wore around the house.

I bowed all the way down, kissed her feet, and knelt back up. “This is different,” I said.

She slapped my face. “Don’t talk to me like that when we are having an encounter like this,” she said. “Lucia’s right. I do need to be more firm with you. You’re sometimes very self-indulgent.

I hung my head and apologized. “I’m sorry Mistress,” I said.

That’s much better,” said Lynette. “Now I have a surprise for you.”

“What’s that Mistress,” I asked. She smiled and produced a pair of alligator clips. “What are those for, Mistress,” I asked.

“You’ll see. Just hold still.” I did as she asked and she put one clip on each of my nipples. They hurt quite a lot but somehow the pain made me peaceful. “Thank you, Mistress,” I said.

“This is working better already,” replied Lynette. “Now hand me the journal.”

I did this the way we always did. I opened it up to the place she had left off the previous time. The spot where the new prose began was marked with a pink sticky. I turned the open book towards her and offered it reverently with both hands. She took the journal, settled back in her chair and began reading.

After about a page she got to a spot where I had written about she and Lucia making love while I watched greedily. The description was graphic. All of a sudden her eyes got harsh, she threw the book down and slapped me hard across the face. She slapped me again with the back of her hand. “You dirty minded little brat!” she yelled. I had never seen her this angry.

“What Lucia and I feel for one another is special and important to me and to her. It’s a much more spiritual feeling than you could ever understand,” she said. “It’s nothing like what you imagine, and I don’t want you dirtying it up with your cheap pornographic fantasies. With you men, the only thing that ever counts is the physical. That’s why you can’t ever be my equal.

“Go into the other room and get your wide black belt and bring it here.” I did so and knelt to present it. She had me kneel, face the door by her office, and grab hold of the knob with both hands. “I don’t want you to move at all and I don’t want to hear a sound out of you,” was all she said. She began beating me with the belt and did not stop until I actually had begun to bleed from the welts.

But I did what she said. I didn’t move. I took it. At the time I couldn’t think why. Nobody had ever whipped me like this before. But underneath I could feel how much reading the passage had hurt her, and how much hurt she still felt. And I began to realize I deserved to feel as much pain as she was feeling, so there could be some balance between us. And so I took it, and I didn’t utter a sound, although heaven knows I wanted to scream out loud.

Finally she stopped. “Just go on to bed,” she said. I did so, but I slept hardly at all. The next morning while I was about my chores, she stopped me and said, “I might have overreacted, and I’m sorry if I did, but I want you to stop writing in your journal for now.”

“I’m just so sorry I hurt you,” I replied. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?” It hurt me a lot when she said I could no longer write in the journal. It was one way that made me feel very connected to her. “Just do your chores faithfully and be a good slave, and we’ll see,” she said with just the hint of a returning smile. My, “Yes, Mistress,” made her smile just a little bit more.

So that’s the way it went as Lucia’s visit approached. I did my chores, cooked and cleaned, and twice a week appeared before her naked on my knees for punishment. This almost always was her beating me with the heavy belt until she was satisfied. Once she put the nipple clips on me and had me stand in a corner of the living room while she watched a movie on her DVD player.

Our relationship had gotten very formal, but I noticed Lynette’s mood improving as the visit approached. She had not mentioned Lucia at all since the time she first started beating me. It was very much “Mistress this” and “Mistress that.”

The night before Lucia’s arrival Lynette had a surprise when I presented myself for punishment. After she and I had talked for a little while, she had me take myself in hand and masturbate. Three times she had me approach the brink, but she would not let me come.

“Lucia will be here tomorrow, and you are going to be the perfect servant,” Lynette said. “Do you understand?” I told her I did. Lynette then said I was to make a sign that said “Ms. Lucia” and wait for her at the airport tomorrow.

I was to treat her with absolute respect and deference, and carry all her luggage if she so desired. “I want her well taken care of and I want her in a very good mood when she arrives here,” said Lynette. “I want you to obey her as you would me.” And I was to address her as, “Ma’am,” always.

She told me Lucia knew she was to be greeted this way and that she had high standards and quite a temper. I was to be on my absolute best behavior. Then Lynette had me masturbate again, but at the brink refused me an orgasm. She sent me to bed soon after.

The next morning I got my car washed inside and out and went to the airport. At the baggage claim, I held up my sign and waited. I thought I saw one person snicker but mostly everyone ignored me. And then there she was. Long lustrous black hair, elegant body, sparkling brown eyes, and the most graceful walk I had ever seen.

“You must be Gregg,” she smiled, offering her hand. “Yes, ma’am, I am,” I replied. I bent down immediately and kissed her hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am,” I said. Her smile brightened. “Lynette took my advice I see. You are very polite, and I find that almost irresistible in a man.”

With that she pointed to the baggage claim and said, “Shall we get my luggage?”

“Yes, of course, ma’am,” I replied. It took a few minutes for her bags to show up on the carrousel, and we chatted for a moment. She had just the trace of an accent. She began telling me about her flight and an adventure she’d had with a plane delay in Singapore.

Then her bags showed up, I was never more grateful to the guy who invented roller bags than that morning, because she had a lot of luggage. Even after I rented a cart there were three bags that wouldn’t fit and she left it up to me to get them to my car. With a lot of effort I got everything to the car and put it in the trunk.

I opened the back door for her, but she said, “No. That’s OK. I’ll sit up front with you.” I went around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. “That’s very good,” she said. During the nearly one-hour drive to Lynette’s house, she told me a little bit about her life.

After her luxurious childhood, she had wandered the world for a while, but then gone back to college and gotten a masters’ degree in comparative literature. She had since been all over the world working as a journalist. It was during this part of her life she had met Lynette. “She’s so brilliant, and so pretty,” said Lucia. “If she just let herself live she’d be the happiest person in the world. Won’t you help me do that?”

“Yes, ma’am. I love to make her happy,” I replied. “Good,” she said. “When I get to the house I’m going to want to sit down and have a long private talk with her. I want you to stay in your room after you’ve brought in and unpacked my luggage, so you won’t bother us, but so you will be there if we need you to do anything. Will you do that for her?”

“Yes, ma’am. I will.” We arrived at the house and pulled in the driveway. I went around and opened the door for her, then went up to the house and opened the door to let her in. She rushed past me and saw Lynette standing there. They called out each others names and grabbed each other in a passionate clasp. I stared for a moment, but fortunately they did not notice. Then I went back to the car.

I made it a point to take a couple of minutes to arrange the luggage before I started bringing it in. By the time I started carrying bags, the two women were sitting huddled together in the living room talking softly and intensely. It did not take me long to realize they were not speaking English.

It took me nearly an hour to get the luggage in the house and unload it neatly where Lynette had indicated with little notes. I then went to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water when Lynette appeared there. She looked flushed and happy. “Open up a bottle of that good white wine,” she said. “And get me two glasses.”

I did as she asked, and then as she took the bottle and the glasses to go back to the living room, she said, “Go in your room and stay there. I’ll see you in the morning.” A couple of hours later I heard the door to the outside open and close, and then heard Lynette’s car start up. I figured they’d gone to get something to eat. I took advantage of the situation to fix my own meal, and was back in my room and must have been asleep by the time they returned.

The following morning, my phone rang about 9 am. It was Lynette (we had separate phone lines). I know I sounded sleepy because she said, “Gregg, you’re sleeping a little late for a day when I’ve go a lot of chores for you to do.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” I replied.

“Well, you’re awake now, and it’s hard to stay angry with you today,” she said. “I had a wonderful time. We both did, and you impressed Lucia. She says you were a perfect servant and gentleman.”

My eyes started to water. It was so important to me for her to be happy. I thanked her, whimpering a little I think, and she told me to fix them both breakfast and put it all on the breakfast-in-bed tray, leave it outside the bedroom door, and knock once. The list of my chores would be there. I was to go back immediately to my room, dress, wash up and begin my chores.

When I went to get the cleaning supplies the breakfast tray was inside the room. I could hear whispered conversation and giggles, but I couldn’t understand any of it. I couldn’t understand a thing, and except for a quick lunch break, I was at it until nearly 7 pm. Toward noon, while I was vacuuming in the dining room, I heard them go out again.

Afterward as I was having a bite to eat in the kitchen, they returned, and a few minutes later Lynette appeared there to see me. She was wearing a tiny blue-jean miniskirt that showed off her legs to perfection. She had a chain link belt and a nearly sheer white blouse, and some gorgeous red three-inch heels. Her smile was radiant. She was as beautiful as I’d ever seen her.

“Stand up,” she said. I did, and she came over to me and gave me a big warm hug. She sat at the table and motioned for me to sit, too. “I think yesterday and today have been the most wonderful two days of my life,” she said. “Lucia is so much more than I remembered her, so intelligent, so passionate, so wise.

“We made love last night, and this morning, and it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I felt more love than I’ve ever felt in my life. I hope she wants to be with me, because I swear it was wonderful for her, too. Please do everything you can to help me. I don’t want to lose her.”

This confused me. On the one hand I was almost ecstatic that she was so happy, but I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach I was losing her. “What does this mean for me?” I asked.

“You can’t think of just yourself right now, Gregg,” she replied. “This is the most important thing that’s ever happened to me, and I need your support. It’s very important to me that I have your support.”

With that I got down on my knees and kissed her feet. “You always have my support, Lynette. Mistress,” I said. She pulled me up in front of her and hugged me again fiercely.

“Thank you. This means more than you know,” she said. She told me to return to my seat. “We talked about you, too, you know,” Lynette said. “Lucia knows what a support you’ve been to me, and she appreciates it, too.”

She sat back in her chair a moment. “There will be some changes,” she said. “I won’t be requiring intimate service any more. I think Lucia wants me to herself, and that’s the way I want it, too.” She continued, “There will be no need to resume your journal. We don’t need it.”

She went on and outlined a few other changes. Now, whenever I was inside the house and I saw either woman, or both together, unless there were guests, I was to kneel and put my head to the floor until instructed otherwise. “This will help preserve our privacy,” she said. When instructed to raise my head, I was to crawl over and kiss the woman’s feet, until told to rise and be about my business.

If I heard either woman call out, “First position,” I immediately was to kneel on the floor facing the woman with my knees spread and my hands behind my back. She outlined two or three other positions as well, and had me demonstrate them.

Each morning, before work on workdays, and whenever it suited the women on other days, I was to bring them breakfast in bed. She showed me a standard menu and said I would receive a phone call each morning to tell me when, and if there were additional or different menu items that morning. I would leave the breakfast by the bedroom door and knock once, unless instructed otherwise.

She said she no longer would give me a list of chores, but would punish me if I fell slack on any or overlooked anything else that needed to be done. When both women were together I was to address her unfailingly as “Mistress,” and Lucia equally unfailingly as “Ma’am.”

“Now I want to show you to Lucia,” Lynette said. She had me go back to my room, shed my clothes and return to her in the kitchen. When I got back to the kitchen, I dropped to my knees immediately, with my face to the floor. “Very good!” said Lynette laughing. “You may rise.”

I raised up, crawled to her feet and kissed them before getting to my feet. “Wait here a moment,” she said. “And then come out to the living room.” She left the kitchen, and I did as she said.

Then I went into the living room. Lucia and Lynette were sitting on the couch with Lucia nearest me. She was wearing a bikini top and a long print skirt with orange flowers on it. Her sandals were white. As soon as I saw her I dropped to the floor.

“Very good,” Lucia said. “He may just work out for us,” and to me, “You may rise.” Immediately I crawled over and kissed her feet. “Position one!” Lynette called out, and I assumed the position in front of Lucia.

She took a foot out of her sandal and nudged my thigh. My sex responded very quickly. “Excitable boy,” laughed Lucia. “But even so very pretty. I like him.” She looked me over for a couple more minutes. Then Lynette had me assume position two, on my knees facing away with my legs spread wide. “Nice and clean,” Lucia said, as her toe nudged the cheek of my bum.

“I think he needs to get us some drinks,” Lucia said. “You’re right,” said Lynette. “Gregg, get us some margaritas.” I did as told and for the next two hours I got them their drinks and kept their places clean as they sat and conversed softly in Portuguese, with many a giggle and nuzzle.

Later Lynette had me take the glasses away and come assume position one in front of them. Lucia reached out and put the nipple clamps on me. “We’re going to talk,” she said. “But the clips and your nudity and position one will remind you always, no matter how free the conversation seems to be who rules in this house.

With that, and an occasional side conversation with Lynette in Portuguese, Lucia proceeded to interrogate me on my entire emotional and sexual history. She listened with particular intentness to the account of how Cynthia and I parted ways. “You have a temper sometimes, don’t you,” she said.

“Not so much anymore, Ma’am,” I replied.

“You can get jealous,” she said.

“That’s true, Ma’am. But Mistress,” I said to Lynette, “You know your happiness comes first with me, and if I feel any jealous feelings I just have to deal with them.” Lynette smiled and stroked my hair.

“That’s good my boy,” said Lucia. “But know this. Lynette is your mistress, but she is my woman now.” At this Lynette’s eyes lit up like thousand-watt lamps. “I won’t tolerate any attitude on your part that you have any rights with Lynette at all,” continued Lucia.

“I hope you understand,” said Lynette. “Because you won’t be able to stay here if you donot.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said as she and Lucia embraced with a deep kiss. I watched for a second before I put my head to the floor. “Bad boy,” Lucia said after a few moments. “You weren’t very quick getting your head to the floor. I think Lynette may want to punish you for that tomorrow morning.” Lynette giggled, and told me to go to bed. I kissed each woman’s feet and left the room.

I was amazingly aroused, rock hard and panting as I lay down in bed. I wanted very badly to masturbate, but thought better of it. I decided in the morning, if I could catch Lynette alone, I would ask her permission to masturbate.

I didn’t sleep much, but I got up early to fix breakfast for the women. I left it by the bedroom door, knocking once as instructed, and began going about my chores. I was dusting the mantel when Lucia walked into the room. Immediately I dropped to my knees and put my face to the floor.

“Rise to your knees,” she said. I crawled over, kissed her feet, and assumed position one. “That’s very nice,” she said. “I think you do know your place.

“And I can see,” she continued, looking at the bulge in my pants, “You are enjoying this. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied.

“Thank you for breakfast, Gregg,” she said. “It was good.

“You are more than welcome, Ma’am,” I said.

“I have a question,” she went on. “Why aren’t you nude?”

“Lynette has never asked it of me when I do chores, Ma’am,” I replied. “Also it wouldn’t always make sense, because I have to do yard work and other chores outside the house.

“I think we could work around your stuff outside of the house,” said Lucia. “If you were nude Lynette or I would know immediately your state of arousal, and whether or not you were fatigued. It would make it more difficult to hide things from her or me. Also it would remind you every time you looked down of what you are in this house and what you are to us. There would be no illusion you are equal. I think I’m going to talk to her about this.”

At this, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. I knelt there a few moments, stunned. Things were changing very fast. Then I got up and continued my chores.

About half an hour later, Lynette walked into the room. She was wearing a red and blue and orange striped party dress, and looked stunning. Immediately I knelt to the floor. “Rise. Go to your room. Take off all your clothes and come kneel in front of the couch. Assume position one when you do.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I murmured, as I crawled over to kiss her feet. Immediately I rose, and went to my room to do as I was told. When I was nude, I went back out to the couch and knelt in front of Lynette, who was sitting there. I kissed her feet and then assumed position one.

She looked me over for a moment, and then, staring directly at my turgid penis, said. “Lucia was right. This certainly does excite you. I never realized how much, and having you nude certainly makes it easier to see.

“Also you always have had a dangerous tendency sometimes to act as if you are equal to me, and you being nude while you do your inside chores will help remind you you are not. It will make it harder for you to conceal your feelings, and if you ever lie to me, I’ll know sooner.” I started to protest I would never lie to her.

“No. Hush,” she said. “I’m going to do what Lucia suggests, any time we do not have guests and you are doing inside chores for us or fixing our meals, or anything else to serve us, I want you to be nude. Do you understand?”

Yes, Mistress, I do,” I replied.

“Good,” she said. “You’re dismissed. Go on about your chores.”

“Oh, Mistress there is one thing.”

“What is it,” she said with more than a hint of impatience.

“Mistress, would it be OK after I finish my chores if I could masturbate. I haven’t had an orgasm in three weeks and the pressure’s intense. I need this,” I pleaded.

“No. I don’t want you to masturbate,” said Lynette. “You know, I think this is something we should have talked about last night. Lucia is sunbathing in the back yard. Put on some gym shorts, go out there, and tell her I’d like it if she could join us here.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said. I kissed her feet and went to comply. When I got to the back yard, Lucia was lying on a chaise in the tiniest red bikini I ever saw. Immediately I went down on my knees and put my face to the ground.

“Stay there and tell me what you want,” said Lucia.

“Ma’am, Mistress has asked if you could join us in the living room. She has something important to discuss.”

“Very well. Tell her I’ll be there in a moment. Turn around with your face to the ground, and only then may you get up to go back in the house.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I said, and did as I was told. I presented myself to Lynette in position one, and a few moments later Lucia walked in wearing a long white blouse and a belt over her bikini.

“Hi Sweetheart,” said Lucia as she sat down, and embraced and kissed her lover. “Hi to you, too, Beautiful,” said Lynette, smiling and kissing back with enthusiasm. Then the two women turned to face me.

“So what is happening?” asked Lucia.

“Well,” said Lynette. “Gregg here asked me for permission to masturbate. I told him no, of course, but then I realized we didn’t explain that part of this to him last night.”

“You are right. We did not. Silly us,” said Lucia. “Well, I suppose you should tell him, then.”

Lynette looked me deeply in the eyes. “Gregg. Lucia and I have discussed this intensively. Our relationship is sacred, and we both believe you spilling seed in this house, or anywhere at all while you are with us, would profane what we have together. It would make what we are doing meaningless.

“So I’m sorry, Gregg. You are not to even touch yourself any more unless it is absolutely essential for health or cleaning. You are not to masturbate ever, and you certainly are not to come. This is a house of female power and pleasure and we won’t have anything at all going on that detracts from it. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said. “But it will be so difficult.”

“I know, sweet boy,” said Lynette. “But you cannot stay with us if you cannot accept this. I would have to ask you to leave this house today, if you were to say no.”

“I’ll do it for you, Mistress,” I said. “It will be so difficult, so very very difficult. But I will do it for you.”

“Good boy. Thank you, Gregg,” said Lynette, stroking my cheek.

“Maybe you should send him back to his chores,” said Lucia to Lynette, with a predatory look in her eyes. “I think I have got business with you, sweet girl.

“Then I think we should go do business,” said Lynette with a smile and a chuckle. “Get to your chores, Gregg.” As I backed away and got up, the two women stood, grabbed each other by the hand and ran to the bedroom. In a few moments I began to hear giggles and moans and even shrieks as they got into their lovemaking.

All the pleasure was theirs. It hurt. But I still wanted so much to serve. So every morning I got up early and made their breakfast, and put it by the bedroom door. Then I went to work or started my chores if it was a weekend. I worked on my chores Saturday and Sunday and most evenings. Whenever the work was inside I was nude as directed.

Whenever they conversed with each other, at least when I was around, they spoke Portuguese. It felt to me they were very much in love, and female hormones were thick in the air inside. Once a week, they would sit together on the couch to instruct and discipline. I had to confess any wrong or fault, or any housework I had not completed on time. I would be wearing only the nipple clamps.

They were very happy, so even though the confession episodes were very formal, with both women dressed in business clothes or evening wear, they were too happy to punish me severely. Most often I had to go stand in a corner for several hours to contemplate my faults and think how to improve, or wear the nipple clamps all night.

A few times Lynette decreed I deserved a whipping. She had bought a wooden paddle and she used this on me. It hurt a lot. One time she asked Lucia to administer the whipping, and she went on until I started bleeding.

They liked cooking dinner for each other, so I was banished from the kitchen and dining room during these times, and had to scrounge my own food after they were done.

One morning after a few weeks of this I awoke ashamed. I had dreamed of Lynette and Lucia making passionate love on a beach, and had exploded in my sleep. I went to my bathroom, found some tissue and cleaned myself off. Then I washed and shaved and went ahead about the day, fixing breakfast like usual, and beginning my chores. But my heart wasn’t in it.

Lynette walked into the kitchen a couple of hours after I got started, and after the greeting ritual said, “You’re dragging. You don’t look happy. And you are not erect. Did you cheat on our agreement, Gregg?” She was angry now.

“No Mistress,” I said frantically. “I didn’t. Well I did. But I didn’t. What I’m trying to say, is I had a wet dream. I couldn’t help myself.”

Now she was angry. “You won’t ever take responsibility for anything, will you, Gregg? I hate what you did!”

All of a sudden, Lucia appeared in the room, and I bowed my face to the floor. “What’s the matter, little darling,” I heard her say before she lapsed into Portuguese and Lynette started crying.

“You bastard!” Lucia shouted. “You hurt my girl!”

“But how can I stop it, Ma’am. I was asleep.”

Lucia told me to kneel up, and when I did she slapped me hard across the face several times. “You apologize to my Lynette! Do you hear me?”

“I will, Ma’am.” Then I said to Lynette, “Mistress, I’m so very sorry. I will do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

“This won’t be easy,” said Lynette. “Stay there. Lucia and I have to talk.” With that both women left the room. Their conversation was long and intense. Finally Lynette appeared at the doorway. “Come into the living room and assume position one.”

I waited a moment so she could get situated and then came in and knelt before them. Lynette told me that what I had done had polluted the household, and that I was going to be severely punished.

Nevertheless the women had talked it over and realized this was something that could not be prevented entirely. In the future, if I had a wet dream, I was to gather all the semen and eat it then and there so the only thing the seed would pollute would be my body. I was to do everything I could to wake up before orgasm if I had an erotic dream. If I failed, even after cleaning up this way, I would have to confess at the first opportunity and would be punished the same way I was going to be punished this week.

Lynette told me to call in and schedule a week of vacation from work. She said I was grounded. For the entire week I could not leave the house without permission and not ever leave the property. I was to stay in my room unless doing chores or otherwise serving. Then Lucia put multiple clips on my testicles and penis. They hurt terribly. Lucia and Lynette both beat me with the paddle.

They ordered me to wear the genital clips for four hours and to wear the nipple clamps all night. They sent me to my room. Then they went to their bedroom and made love. Each night before bed for the next week, I presented myself at their feet, and was clipped and beaten with the paddle. Each night I wore the clips to bed. After a week, the two women had me kneeling in front of them. “I hope this has made you understand clearly the importance of not letting any of your seed into this house,” said Lynette. “It’s a very important issue for both of us.”

“Do you understand now that everything that happens to you that is sexual is your responsibility, and you will have to pay the price if it is wrong?” added Lucia.

“Yes Mistress. Yes Ma’am. I do understand. I will do everything I can to restrain myself. My pleasure should be to serve.”

“That’s right,” said Lucia. “The drive for male pleasure is at the heart of all the sorrow and horror that is in the world. I’ve seen that horror many times when I’ve worked as a journalist, and I hate it. It is up to responsible women like us to control and discipline the men in our power until they give up that drive and quit hurting the world. Then you and these other men may be trained in the higher pleasure of service. Men need to sacrifice.

“A woman’s pleasure is different. A woman’s pleasure gives life. A woman’s pleasure is life, and the pleasure of two women together is the most sacred thing that could possibly be. When you make our pleasure together easier, or do things so we can concentrate on each other, you do a very great thing. You should be proud. Are you proud to serve us?”

“Yes Ma’am, I am,” was my reply. “I love you both so much.” At this I started crying. Each woman put a hand on one of my shoulders. “I think this is about all he can handle for tonight,” said Lucia. Lynette nodded. Then she told me to go to bed. I cried myself to sleep.

The next morning was Monday, so after I fixed the two women’s breakfast, I hauled myself in to work. My performance had slacked off some in the past few weeks, but today, even though the sexual tension inside me was still intense, I felt peaceful, and was able to concentrate much better than recently. My secretary, who had always been a little afraid of me, commented on my improved mood. “I hope this means you are happier at home,” she said. I just smiled. She had no earthly idea.

At home that evening I got right to my chores. The women were out somewhere. I thought a lot about what Lucia had told me. It began to seem really right. And it began to feel good and to make me proud to be denied release. And Lucia and Lynette were each so wonderful and so talented. They were brilliant. And they were so beautiful together. I began in a way to feel their pleasure as my own. I began to feel there was a deeper pleasure in pleasing them than there could ever be from a simple three-second physical release. There were no more wet dreams.

Mid-week I was again kneeling nude before them. “You seem in a much better mood,” said Lynette. “That’s nice.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I said.

“You said you love us the last time we talked like this,” she said. “What does that mean to you?”

“It means I care for you very deeply, that I’d do anything for you, and that I’m willing to serve here as long as you both will have me,” I replied.

“That is a very limited way to look at it,” said Lucia.

“Listen,” she said. “Love is the complete gift of the self. Not a negation but a gift. Its expression is sublime. You have to open your hart and know the other person’s needs as only a woman can.”

“You have to feel and desire the other person’s needs, and to be able to do so without any constraint,” said Lynette. “I know you feel our needs now, but that’s only because of our constant supervision, correction and training. You couldn’t sustain it on your own. No man can.”

“That is why real love only can be felt between two women,” said Lucia.

“I feel so much more with Lucia than I could ever feel with you,” said Lynette. “I care for you, and I love your service, but it’s not the same.” With that the two women kissed deeply, and my heart skipped a beat.

“Mistress, Ma’am, how can I learn to feel this? So I can serve you better. So I can care more,” I wailed.

“You are doing the best you can, better than most men,” said Lucia.

“I don’t think you are able to do more,” said Lynette. “You are only a man.”

“My darling,” said Lucia to Lynette. “Maybe we could educate him a little.” With that the two women lapsed into an intense conversation in Portuguese that lasted almost fifteen minutes. I bowed my head and waited.

“OK,” said Lynette at the end, as I looked up. Lucia said, “Go to our bedroom. Pull the curtains. Light candles. Turn down the bed. Scatter rose petals on it. Make it perfect. Can you do this?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said. I rushed to do as she said.

After about 45 minutes the room was ready. I went back to the living room to present myself and I found the two women in a clinch. Immediately I knelt to the floor. After a moment Lynette called me over. I knelt before them. “I’m not sure about this. Lucia has talked me into it. We’ll just see how it goes,” she said.

Author’s Note: This series will be told from multiple points of view. The first three chapters of R’s Story and M’s Story are designed to be read in any numerical order, i.e. you may alternate between the two, read all of one and then all of the other, or any other progressive combination you feel like.

As the car slows down T removes my blindfold.

I blink my eyes in defense against the sun. It appears to be late afternoon. As my vision acclimates I see the mansion on the right side, two people already on their way to meet the limo.

As they get closer I see they are wearing masks. One of them opens the door. T nudges me towards the hands reaching for me and I exit the car. T nods to one of them. They close the door behind me and T is gone.

It is a man and a woman. They are dressed in robes, the man in light blue and the woman in purple. Their masks match their robes. They put goggles on my face. They obscure my vision by putting special goggles on my face. The bottom 30% of my vision is unobscured. I can see about 7 feet in front of me. The rest is like looking through one of those bathroom windows with the translucent glass only a little clearer. I learn later they are called ‘blinders’. My escorts each grasp one of my arms and lead me towards the mansion. I am able to see enough to walk safely. I am aware of activity both inside and out but can’t pick up any specifics.

We go inside and arrive at a closed door. The man knocks. The door opens. The man and the woman shove me gently but firmly into the room. The door is closed and we are separated.

“Loose Position!”

I stand with my legs spread shoulder width and my arms hanging down about six inches from my sides. I look down at the floor. I feel hands on me, I hear tearing sounds, I feel my clothes leave me and I am naked.

I am scared and excited. My cock begins to stir. The female’s voice sounds again. She speaks in an authoritative but calm voice as if she knows she will be obeyed without question.

“Corral him.”

My cock is squeezed roughly and stuffed inside a plastic cage. It strains against its prison to no avail.

“You will learn cock control. Give him five.”

Pain sears through my ass and up into my brain as the paddle catches me full on. As I gasp for breath I am assaulted four more times. It is excruciating but I have been trained not to flinch. This pain does not excite me and my cock is now dormant.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor reaches me. I hear footsteps and a figure in black emerges in my peripheral vision. I am careful not to react. Her hands roam my body. When they near my crotch she removes the cage. I practice the control techniques I have learned from M and T and able to stay soft, even when she takes my penis into her hand and examines it thoroughly. She feels my balls for several seconds and then steps back.

“Open your mouth.”

I comply without even thinking about it. It is as if she is speaking directly to my neural system.

“Show your tongue.”

I stick my tongue out. I am proud that it has a half-inch longer reach than it used to. I twist it upside down in both directions, curl it lengthwise and widthwise, move it first up and down and then side to side rapidly. Her finger comes up and offers resistance and I press against it.

“Satisfactory. Room for improvement. Take him to indoctrination.”

I am helped into a full length candy cane striped silk robe. It is secured with a sash. I decide there must be some significance to the robes. I decide to use colors for names. I am led from the room and down a corridor by a man in a Green robe.

*   *   *   *   *

M and I fucked the first night we met. We never stopped during that first year. She was so incredibly hot and I knew I was incredibly lucky. My dick never got soft even though M didn’t appreciate it then.

As our sexual relationship progressed be began to experiment. We role played a lot and talked about our fantasies. Mine often involved light bondage and teasing. I found out hers did too. We traded being switches. She wondered what it would be like to have sex with another woman. I knew better than to suggest a 3-way. She had very strong feeling on monogamy that I never broke.

Our sex life slowed down after the kids were born. I was in the early years of my career then and worked 10 or 12 hour days not including the commute. M would need a break from the kids when I got home. I was too tired for sex most nights. M got more and more frustrated with me and I started to look at it as an obligation. Another woman might have had an affair but not M.

As the children got older and I settled into my career it became more hit and miss. I always imagined it would be great again once the kids left, especially when they all eventually moved across the country. We were both in our forties and were in decent shape. M dyed her hair, dressed nicely, and had her ample boobs. I thought I looked pretty good too. Perhaps I was wrong; I had put on a few pounds.

Perhaps we had invested too much in the kids and not enough in our relationship, or perhaps it was something else, but when we got back from dropping our youngest, Emily, off at the airport to fly across the country for college, things did not magically improve like I thought they would. I remember undressing her that night and really seeing her body for the first time in a long time and wishing it looked like it did in her twenties. She noticed the look but didn’t say anything. We made tepid love; I wasn’t even fully hard. She stopped sleeping naked and started wearing a night gown.

Besides our sexual desires peaking at different periods in our lives we had other incompatibilities. We both enjoyed playing around with bondage and teasing when we first met, but we both preferred to be the submissive. Back then we had so much built up sexual energy we overrode all that, we took turns or whatever, but now it was another reason to skip sex. She spent more time with her Rabbit. I spent time on the internet, reading erotica and ordering my own secret toys. I spent more time with my hand and my imagination.

We grew apart in other ways too. I started spending more time with guys from work, watching sports and drinking beer, while she joined a book group and acquired more female friends.

One day she joined a fitness club. She came home and told me about this hot instructor that was there and convinced me to go next time. For a while we both worked out a lot, usually together, and often would come home and fuck on the testosterone we had built up at the gym.

But I broke the pattern one day when I wanted to go drinking with the guys. I lied to M and told her I had to finish up a project at work. Then I just got out of the habit.

M tried to coax me back into going. It was one of the few things we did together anymore.I kept putting her off — she needed it more than I did. M had put on some weight over the years, but I didn’t feel like I was out of shape. I didn’t have the time to spare during the week; my job is somewhat seasonal peaking at the end of the year, and I enjoyed having the house to myself. I could tell it meant a lot to her but it felt like nagging to me.

One day she practically begged me to go with her.

“R, please come with me. Sometimes I feel like we don’t know each other anymore. We never do anything together.”

I heard her plea but my mind was already set on watching the football game and drinking beer.

“You could watch football with me.”

I saw a change in her face. It was almost as if I said I didn’t lover her anymore. Maybe I had. She turned and walked out of the door. I almost went after her but in the end I was too proud.

She never asked me again.

The kids came home for Christmas and we put on a good front but something had changed in our marriage. It could be depressing at times. That was easily beat by the bottle.

     <>   <>   <>   <>

My escort knocks on a door. It is opened. I am helped inside and the door is shut behind me. I know intuitively that it is locked.

“Loose Position.”

It is a man’s voice this time. He does not snap it like the woman did. He says it as if I were a dog whom he knows will obey him.

I do. He is Alpha. I am Beta.

My robe is stripped from me. Clear soft collars are attached around my wrists and ankles. They are secure but not uncomfortable. They have D-Rings extending from them. I am guided to a spot in the center of the room. Ties are secured to the D-Rings and I am now in a spread eagle standing position. Helpless.

“We have found that trainees tend to listen and retain more this way.

“Listen carefully and remember all I say. You will not remember it all, but it is you who will pay the price for what you forget. Understood?”

I nodded without looking up.


“As you know, you are not to ever speak unless invited to. You are never to take any action in front of others unless commanded to. You will display total obedience to everyone here. You are a white robe and thus subservient to everyone else except other white robes. You will not have voluntary contact with other whites under any circumstances.

“This means anytime you come across someone in a different color robe you will obey any command given to you immediately and without question.

“By the time you leave you will be fully trained in all the ways of giving pleasure to another human being. You will be trained how to behave in every situation. You will be trained on how to be a perfect submissive.”

I am released from the ties. The goggles are removed and I am given back my robe. A sleep mask/blindfold hangs from the side. The man behind the desk is wearing a red robe. He takes the middle finger of my right hand, lubes it, and slips a ring on it very tightly. It is a pewter color with a raised square area that has an R engraved into it. On the left side of the raised square is stamped 54982 in small numbers. On the opposite side is a bar code. The ring is very warm and tight. I have seen a ring like this before with a different letter but I can’t recall where. As the ring cools down it cleaves to my finger.

He hands me back the goggles. I put on robe and goggles and then take a small white gym type bag that is handed to me. I follow a figure dressed in Green down a corridor.

*   *   *   *   *

We livid basically separate lives after that. We slept in the same bed, but other than that we could have been roommates who were occasional fuck buddies.

It averaged about once a month. Most of the time it just wasn’t worth the effort. M was gone so often it was easier to just entertain myself. I started going to web sites first. I would jerk off in front of the computer. I liked the stories the best and started to write my own. I began to order toys and download movies. I bought some books and movies too. I bought an extra storage box and hid everything in the basement near my work bench.

On nights when M would stay out late I started to wonder if she was having an affair or a one-night stand. I knew she wouldn’t but somehow the idea excited me and I began to fantasize about it. The thought of her with another man gutted my heart with jealousy. I imagined them sitting on a couch together, kissing, then he thrusting his tongue into her mouth, her responding passionately, him putting a hand to her blouse, him stroking her when he received no resistance and then unbuttoning her, she caressing his chest before letting him help her out of her top, her involuntary cries of pleasure as he touched her skin and then snaked his hand under her cup, her removing his shirt, him sneaking around and freeing her breasts, him diving on them with his mouth, her louder cries of joy, her lifting him up and then sinking to her knees in front of him, her looking up at him mischievously while undoing his belt and then unzipping his pants, her look of grateful surprise at his hard wide cock, her looking up at him once more before engulfing it in her mouth, her masterful blow job while he caresses her head and runs his finger through her hair, him suddenly coming in her mouth, them both recovering, him bending down and picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom, laying her on the bed, removing her pants and panties, then supping upon her flowing juices and then her drowning pussy, her earth-shaking orgasm, him climbing on top of her, him stroking her lips with his cock head as they smile at each other, him unexpectedly plunging into her so deep her breath is taken away like she has been stabbed with a pleasure sword…and then I am shooting a string of cum all over the keyboard and mouse pad and have the best orgasm I have had in years. I am hooked.

It was like an addiction. I didn’t like being turned on by being a cuckold but it made my sex life so much more intense I won’t stop. I tried to rationalize by saying since I loved M I wanted her to be happy and if that means she has sex with someone else then that is a good thing but I knew I was lying to myself.

I started to read stories about women cheating on their husbands and their husbands watching it. I especially liked the BDSM ones. But I was particular I don’t like the ones where there are golden showers of feminization or humiliation or talk of the protagonists small dick because I can’t identify with any of these. Eventually I realized I need to write my own to get what I really wanted. I began to write.

I never worried about being discovered by M. She was hopelessly computer illiterate and almost seemed proud of it.

Soon I found myself wanting more. I went to sites with BDSM movies, and then worked my way up to virtual sites, and finally to chat rooms. I cruised the internet classifieds looking for partners but only for fantasy purposes. I got a special secret e-mail address for all my sex related e-mail only. Finally I posted an ad on Domsub.com and weeded through the SPAM responses to find some possibilities I never contacted.

I looked at the sites for local Dominatrix’s and thought about making appointments. Once I even inquired about availability. I found one nearby who charged $350 an hour. That seemed like a lot but I made an appointment and put down the $100 deposit. When the day came I chickened out. I wasn’t ready to go that far yet.

I went on line and ordered more toys for my fantasy life. Restraints, cock rings, butt plugs, nipple clamps, handcuffs, a flexible paddle, and even a strap-on. I set-up two day delivery for a day M was going to work late. When I got home she was there but so was the box unopened. When she inquired I said something about her birthday. When she went to work out that night I opened my toy box, examined everything, and then stowed it all in my locking tool box in the basement.

<>   <>   <>   <>

We walk down the corridor.

I hear footsteps and see someone if a blue robe approaching. I am cuffed on the back of my head and then a hand pushes my head so I am looking down.

We stop and I see the bottom of Blue’s robe out of the top of my eyes. I decide that Blue is higher than Green

“Look up,” she says.

I raise my head and cautiously look straight ahead. She motions Green and he lifts my robe. Blue examines me briefly. She opens a box in the wall that I naively thought held a fire hose and removes a paddle. She whacks me across the ass twice. I remember my training and don’t say a word while flinching as little as possible.

Blue nods to my escort and he lets my robe fall.

“Very good.”

I find her voice very sexy. She glances at my ring as she continues on her way.

We continue down the hall.

*   *   *   *   *

The first I saw T was at the workout club. It was probably around the time she and M became lovers.

I had looked at myself in the mirror that spring morning and I didn’t like what I saw. A quick trip to the scale confirmed my diagnosis. I vowed to start going to the gym more often as my Chinese New Year’s resolution. This was day one.

I noticed her moments after I came out of the locker room. M hadn’t been exaggerating T was incredibly hot. She reminded me of a blonde version of M when we had met with a more athletic body. She was tall with moderate size breasts. She wore a one-piece leotard that accentuated her figure, and would have looked like a dominatrix if it were leather. She instantly became my new fantasy women. I went home after a work-out and imagined that somehow I was there at closing time alone with her, and she locked the doors and then tied me down to a weight bench and had her way with me, ripping my clothes off and sitting on my face and forcing me to please her all night long.

A few days later I decided to work out after work, something I didn’t normally do. It was a Friday. After a few reps on the weights, I got on a cross-trainer for a long stint, jacking into my MP3 player and strutting away. It wasn’t long before I saw the hot instructor, come into the room from one of the other workout areas, looking sexier than ever. And then I saw an older sexy woman in tow, wearing a similar outfit that showed off her body to its fullest.

I looked at her face and saw that it was M. Between different bed times and her wearing night gowns to bed I hadn’t seem her body in a long time. She looked great. I wanted her right then and I wasn’t the only one. That turned me on even more. I felt my cock stirring, and I picked up my pace to divert the blood flow elsewhere.

They proceeded to one of the weight machines, where the instructor coached M and touched her more than I thought was normal. She seemed to accidentally touch M’s legs and chest quite often, but M didn’t seem to mind. They chatted quietly between reps, enjoying each other’s company, laughing quietly. I began to fantasize about the two of them alone with me in the room, and my pace quickened. I also felt my dick stiffen again. I didn’t think it was noticeable, but I increased my pace more and tried to think about Nancy Pelosi having sex with Liz Cheney.

It was only a few moments before M noticed me on the cross-trainer. She looked alarmed for a brief moment like I had caught her with her boyfriend. She quickly turned to T and said something to her. When she looked back at me she smiled and made her way over to say hello and introduce us.

“T is my new personal trainer. She is showing me better ways to use the machines.”

“That’s great”, I said. ‘I’d like her to show me some better ways to use the machines too,’ I didn’t say.

Staring at T up close for the first time she was everything I fantasized. She had a hard but sexy face and a great body. When she spoke, her voice was confident and commanding without being harsh. “M is doing very well. She is an excellent student.” She said, and then added with an impish grin, “I hope you are treating her as you should.”

I was taken aback by this last comment, and glanced at M, but she just looked back at me as if this were perfectly normal. I paused and then managed to say, “I’m glad she is doing so well. I always try to treat her well.”

They both looked at me, almost as if I were lying, before M said, “We should get back to our workout.” I watched both their asses as they strode away. They continued on as before. I put in ten more minutes on the cross-trainer before jumping in the shower. I wanted to play with myself so badly, but dared not risk it, so I just turned on the cold water instead.

I didn’t know what to expect from M that night. I wanted her. But I needed sex more so I hurried home to the sure thing. I jumped on the internet and went to one of my favorite femdom sights with free video of two women using a helpless man, securing my favorite cock ring on myself as I watched it, fantasizing about T and M being the two and me the man, and then coming quickly and copiously.

Part 9.

I shall focus on what happened a good four months on and after Part 11 of “Matt becomes Mattie” so I am a little out of ‘synch’ with that as a chronology.

My mass taking that I described in my Part 8 left me whacked on the Sunday. I woke up feeling soiled and still reeking of spunk but still had some sensuous sex with Mariam and Duncan. The rest of the day before heading back to Mattie and Louise was given over to cleaning me up, some pussy, kegels and anal stretching, and lessening the bruising, though the girls were somewhat taken back with what they saw but realised that I had a significant tolerance for it. We also took measurements for my Neosteel chastity belt which was delivered for the following weekend.

My training continued unabashed and especially around chastity in which I came to realise that it delivered far better orgasms for me, though this was in part also the benefits of my pussy and anal muscle control increasing.

Shortly afterwards, having convinced Mattie and Louise who were totally laid back and I think relieved that I wasn’t going to undergo breast reduction surgery, I had my breasts pierced to meet Duncan’s requests. This was more painful than my pussy and clit rings but not unbearable. A sharp ‘ouch’ as the bore needle went in and through and given my propensity for pain, it was more than manageable. Being reasonably small breasted, I healed very quickly, combined with wearing a bra 24 hours and the regular use of ice packs. I was initially barbell-ed but have now moved over to D rings.

Duncan was a genius with the girls as to my forthcoming acts with other clients. They knew about my experiences with James of course and Duncan positioned it that I had such a high sex drive that he and even the girls couldn’t handle and that in accumulating experiences I could bring plays back to them. Also, that I completely had and would separate such transactional sex from my relationships with them and they probably did not know just how much I was in love with them – this was so true. The other side was health and they knew how Duncan was very careful in this area. We ended up with their support.

Having passed my mass taking, and Duncan was most impressed by what I had achieved, the next stage was my ‘prostitution’ to two Arabs that he knew and could vouch for as to my overall safety. I won’t spend too much time on this as Mattie has referred to it in her writing. However a brief synopsis is that my first experience was really enjoyable.

I stayed up in London for a Tuesday night and Duncan came to my suite and put me through my paces the night before. Wednesday mid-afternoon onwards I took off, under the guise of a client meeting, and prepared my body for the night ahead, waxing, nails, still not Frenched at that time, and make-up by an Arabic artiste, Soha had recommended.

Duncan had me dress in leather, a leather halter exposing my pierced nipples, hold up stockings held by my thigh cuffs, my wrist and ankle cuffs, and then my pussy splayed by little clamp clips and their chains attached to the thigh bands and my wrists. My nipple piercings were still off limits. He had already lodged my customary two dildos in my love channels to open me up and my pussy one was then held in by some thin leather lacing. I wore a leather thong to hold in my other dildo and this thong had a circular rough patch to massage my clit.

My clothing was all thin leather too, my Abaya and Burqa, and underneath I was in my favourite hood, laced in and collared. I also wore very high heels. I also wore the usual selection of Middle Eastern jewellery and was liberally sprayed in the Princess perfume.

Duncan drove me over to their hotel at 10.30 pm and we walked in. We got to the lift and Duncan attached my leash and walked me down the corridor. I was very wet with anticipation of this act I was about to commit, i.e. that I was effectively entering the world of prostitution.

We stood outside the door and I had to knock on it. This swarthy dark haired man came to the door and spoke in Arabic to Duncan. We stepped into a small ante-corridor and the conversation continued. The second door opened and there was my main client, a five foot ten man, black haired, dark eyed and dressed in a lovely suit.

The first man greeted me and told me that the agreed fee for the night was £2000. He gave me the cash in £50 notes and I handed the wad over to Duncan. This very act had me almost cumming underneath my Abaya.

Once Duncan had left, I was asked to remove my Burqa and Abaya and was closely inspected and probed by the men. I found myself chained and beaten with paddles and had to render blowjobs for them and through the night was taken by both of them, best friends apparently, singly and doubly, in all my orifices. They greatly appreciated that I took them without condoms. They were of a good size and the sex was fairly good; the big thrill for me tough had been in the fact that I had joined the ranks of the sex industry employed, and for the benefit of my pimp, Duncan.

In the morning, they gave me a further thousand. Duncan picked me up and we returned to the suite and I had a long pleasurable and painful sex session with him.

I ended up being sold three times more by Duncan in the following five weeks, once a mid week session with a Kuwaiti sixty five year old who took me out to dinner as an Arab woman with white lacy lingerie on underneath and conventional sex. In this experience, I had ‘the buzz’ of leaving the five star hotel at 3am to be picked up by Duncan, acting as my pimp. He enjoyed the cream-pie that I was carrying.

The third occasion was as a latex doll at the client’s house, the client having been one of the men who took me in the mass fuck of me. That session was mainly latex and watersports oriented coupled with immobilisation in a vacuum- bed. There was some restraint as well but the pleasure in this was very much the size of the client.

Soha provided Duncan with his fourth client for me. She was a wealthy English fifty five year old divorcee seriously into lesbian and bondage sex, so this session involved no Arabic theme just a night of sex where I was her total submissive as if I was dominating Mattie and Louise. I also had to role play her 28 year old daughter’s closest friend on who she had a crush and Duncan had her provide a lot of background information to assist me in my preparation. She was more than delighted with me.

In the space of four clients, I had grossed £8000 to be split with Duncan. That meant nearly £3000 in my back pocket and I had doubled that with tips. That was a nice bonus to the real benefit of my submission to Duncan and exploration of my sexuality and sexual limits, whilst retaining intact my immense love, sex and care for the family.

Shortly after my fourth client followed by a night with Duncan, I got a call from him asking me if I could meet him for lunch in London in the next two days as he needed an answer on a possible power deal for me. My diary was free for tomorrow from 11am so I readily agreed to a midday meeting, I asked him if we needed a hotel and he said ok. I mentioned that I could swing it as a client meeting and stay the night; that would give us ample time together and, if he wished, to visit any specialist sex shops or other establishments. I made the booking at Browns with whom we had a corporate deal and great light food in their Michelin restaurant.

I asked him if he would be bringing my key to release me from my belt as I was four days into a week’s chastity session. He agreed to that and suggested I bring nice lingerie, a white nightie and that we would have essentially vanilla sex being mid week and that I had to work next day. He would bring some small accessories. And that I was to temporarily drop the ‘Master and Yuwannā’ for the stay, after all there may be colleagues of mine around – actually, that wasn’t too much a risk as Browns was reserved for top clients, and those I knew about.

At midday, I left my offices and walked the short distance to Browns in Arbermarle Street, carrying my overnight bag, pc and my handbag. I entered the hotel and left my luggage with the concierge and then checked in for later. One of the things I liked about the hotel was the light airy nature of the hotel and the friendliness of the staff, a massive turn-around from the dark, dismal “Windsor Soup” image of the old hotel.

I headed for Donovan’s bar and sat down with a glass of white wine. Duncan was about five minutes late and came bouncing into the bar complaining about the traffic over from the station and how did I manage to do it every day I was in London. Answer was that I worked all over the place and occasionally stayed overnight when late or with a client meeting.

With a G & T in hand, Duncan relaxed and set about describing what was on his mind. I won’t bore you with the food and wine details, but Mark Hix’s food is wonderful and light; we could go for something more ‘heavy’ later like a candlelit French Bistro such as Le Poule au Pot in Ebury Street.

“Well, this is a client meeting I guess and so therefore fully justifiable for you. Do you remember how I described these contacts in the Middle East?”

“How can I forget, Duncan, and I thought this may have something to do with the meeting.”

It was odd calling my Master ‘Duncan.’

“So no long spiel from me then, but I have been really impressed how you have delivered these last few weeks and I think that you may be ready for rather a special mission. Carpe Diem and all that. How is your diary in the next few weeks for say, a ten day major business trip?”

I pulled out my pc and went through it, quickly assessing what I could delegate or shift and also covering family events. There was a workable slot in three and a half weeks, a period I had given over for annual planning. Duncan pointed out that I would have time on my trip to put my ideas together and could even profit from being out of the office.

“Ok then Joanna, you have the possibility of a trip to Doha in Qatar. As you know the Qataris are investing substantial sums of money at Commonwealth, Royal and privately. My client is very, very close to the Al-Thani family and they have a substantial investment portfolio in property, equities and now they are looking at soccer clubs and other leading brands. They want to bring their European portfolio under one advertising agency and that’s where the business opportunity lies”

Duncan and I went onto extensively discuss the business over lunch and what they required and how my agency could meet their needs. We also planned the actions needed to make an opening pitch and we thought that if I could lead a pitch to their London representatives with Doha over the web, that would help open up the business, worth some $7 to $10 million of all billings. It would of course provide good cover to an extended visit out there, as they also wanted a review of their local communications; for this the agency would receive a consultancy fee.

Duncan had been in direct contact twice with this old ‘colleague’ of his, a Mohammed Salal bin Hamad, about me and had send over an extensive report on my background and sexual interests and a DVD of me in action. Apparently, his interest was more than piqued.

“So Joanna, Sheikh Salal wishes you to come out to Doha for a ten day stay to cover overtly the business needs but also to be on call for his bed, or rather I should add his playroom. So before you say yes or no, here’s the outline of how it will all work.”

“Ok, I am all ears, Duncan.”

“You will be picked up by limousine and flown out 1st class on Qatar Airlines. The suggestion is to go for QR006 as that leaves at 10.50 and arrives in the evening locally at 19.45. You will travel as Yuwannā Salal bin Hamad and the Sheikh will be arranging a Qatari passport to be issued to you as this will avoid visa issues and prying officials as the name alone ensures due respect and assistance. That means you will travel as local folk do, in that you can fly out in western dress but on the way into local airspace, you must put on your Abaya, Hijab and your veil.”

I sipped on my wine.

“Everything will be facilitated at Doha airport, both arriving and leaving, and you will be met by one of the family’s senior attendants and then quickly sped to their complex in the centre of Doha, close to the royal palace. Accommodation will be sumptuous and you will have the status of a VIP within the family and the women. You will be expected to live with them, male presence being limited to the Sheikh and who he designates and for any work purposes, again designated by the Sheikh. “

“Go on.”

You will live, need I say, as an Arab woman for your time in Doha. The only condition in the whole trip is that you are on call for the Sheikh’s pleasure. Knowing him, this will not be 24-7 so you will have time to a lot of time to relax, be pampered, work on your Business Plan and their project, and prepare yourself for the next session. You will not be out of communication by the way, except when with the Sheikh and I guess that is understandable.”

Duncan laughed at his own joke.

“You don’t need to take a lot of clothing, cosmetics or even lingerie with you, just enough for work purposes and to keep Mattie and Louise ‘happy.’ I have forwarded your sizes already and you can take your chastity belt and cuffs with you and I will arrange for duplicate key to be sent out there. Obviously, I wouldn’t wear them through the flights as they will show up on security. As to being in your luggage, your case will pass into the diplomatic bag, so feel free to add what you require.”

“You will find the Sheikh kind and considerate, but interested in bondage and he is also pretty well endowed, so you will enjoy that, and that is a frustration that he has with his wives and attendants, his girth and their love of fetish sex. You may be available for the females in household as well.”

Duncan looked at me and drank some more wine.

“Finally, your money. Certainly no problem there. I will receive a transfer of £50,000 in the week before you go, so you should expect a large deposit on your account before you go. I suggest a 50:50 on this; in addition, you may receive all sorts of extra perks that will be substantial especially if he likes you. If, in advance, you want to buy some extra lingerie for the trip and the future, you have the means for top of the range items to supplement what they dress you in”

“Wow, I can hardly say No can I?”

Duncan smiled.

“So it is a Yes then?”

“Yes, Master, I will do it.”

“Well let’s drink to that and then I have been itching to take you, my lovely Arabic cock-whore.”

The rest of the meal and coffee, we discussed the finer details and arrangements for the trip as well, as the business details. We also teased each other. My pussy was beginning to moisten itself at the prospect of it being released from its chastity and friend to be replaced by Duncan’s hard cock.

I settled the bill to the room and we headed upstairs. Our small amount of luggage was already there. Once inside the room, Duncan took me in his arms and kissed me deeply, his hands feeling my bottom. Before he got too far, I slipped out of my clothes and asked him to release me and whether he needed me with my cuffs or collars on.

He said no to that but that he would release me. I climbed out of my white lacy bra revealing my pierced breasts which he fingered and toyed with my bars. Then I presented him with my bottom, my soft buttocks protruding from the Belt’s split thong strap holding in my residential training dildo. His hands felt my globes and his fingers moved down to tease my anal bud. Quickly he unlocked the heavy-duty locks and released me from my restraint, readying me to be taken by him. His fingers quickly found the wide dildo he had placed in there and he pulled it out, replacing his tongue in my mouth with this toy for me to take in my cream that had accumulated on it. Back in came his tongue to savour me, to prepare me for my taking.

He took me by my hand and led me to the double king bed, pulling back the covers to lay me down on the soft Egyptian cotton sheets. He moved close to me, kissed me again and then started to work down my body, my ears and neck being closely kissed and paid attention to. I threw my head back in anticipation. Gradually he made his way down my chest towards my waiting breasts.

He took my breast deep into his mouth and began to nuzzle it, the feeling was wonderful as I ceded to his control of me. I played with his salt and pepper hair, yearning to serve his hardening cock. I arched my back so as to push my erect pierced nipple deeper in his mouth. He sucked me harder and his loose hand played with my other breast and its ring, hardening that nipple to being as hard as the one in his mouth. God, I was pleading with him to take me, my language turning blue.

I held Duncan close to me and moaned; my nipples felt they were getting tighter and tighter and the feeling of his onslaught was sending electricity to my brain. Duncan knew how to play me like a polished violinist, he moved under my breast line, slowly caressing and kissing me; he moved gradually down my body, focusing on my mini-erotic points that he had got to know where they were. I was curving my back now enticing him to take me.

I was beginning to buck my hips now as my excitement grew and I lusted at him when he looked up my body at my reactions to his pleasure giving. His head moved down over my mound and towards my already damp love grotto. I knew the top of my thighs were covered in my nectar and that he could smell my rampant sex. I gripped his head with my mid thighs and coaxed him in so that his tongue would relieve me, my fingers darting roughly through his hair.

Duncan took my legs and moved them over his shoulders; his head was now ready to serve me, to please my pulsating slit. I begged him to tongue fuck me. Duncan made me beg for him. To relieve me – I had had no direct vaginal sex all week, relying on oral and breast pleasure that the girls had given me. Slowly Duncan circled in on me, working his way over my mons and over the join of my pussy area onto my thighs. He ringed his way in, focusing in on my outer labia lips.

And then he moved on to my inner lips, playing on the other side of my rings, such heaven as he teased me erotically, running his tongue up and down me. I was growing tenser by the passing minutes.

He took my legs and splayed me wide and closely looked at my sights.

“God, I know why men so love your pussy, you are gorgeous and how you are opening up for me is incredible and I can see your cum bubbling up for me. The Sheikh will be a lucky man.”

His fingers darted over me again and I was just about ready to explode over him with his verbal teasing and the sensation of his naughty finger play. I started to buck my hips in anticipation of feeling him inside me, inadvertently giving him an even better view of my open cunt.

His tongue moved right onto me, the entrance to my cock home. His mouth enveloped me, taking me in by his tongue, kissing me and slowly sucking me harder and harder; his nose playing against my upper slit and clit. I was nearly there and I could feel my kegels starting to tense automatically, pushing my cream out onto his face and into his mouth.

Duncan’s motion changed to a long sweep of his tongue taking my heavy pre-cum in as if it was a milk and then he entered me with his proboscis, exploring my inner depths with it. And then came his fingers, one, two and then three as he slipped them home into my waiting cunt. I was hot and ready, swollen and creamy and I bucked my hips again to take more. I felt him push his fourth in, and then finally he curled his thumb in and I was there, his fist was in me, fucking me. I was so wet; I could hear the sounds of the cream and air popping around his wrist.

My head was moving side to side, my cheeks and chest were red hot.

I was moaning, no just about screaming for release,

“Fuck me Duncan, Oh God, fuck me.”

My hips were jumping to take him in deeper and respond to his in and out motion.

Then it came, my orgasm, my electric shock. This was the best fuck Duncan had given me, even more powerful than when I had literally masturbated him using only my cunt, with my wrists chained and suspended from his the roof of his four-poster. It grew on me this one; I felt it coming deep in my cervix and brain, threatening to overwhelm me. It was managing me, controlling me, my cunt moving to his hand, opening me right up for his predilection. My brain was opening my legs and cunt wider for him and I was groaning with impassioned joy. No one, not even Mattie or Louise had ever taken me like this before.

He continued with his fist fucking and his other hand went up over my tummy to take my nipple and tweak it, sending another signal into me and then his mouth was over my clit, French kissing it. This was what sent me over the top. I was quaking and urging him to take me and that I was cumming; he felt it on his wrist, my cunt going into voluntary overdrive, spasming around him. This had me bucking hard; no, thrashing is the only descriptive. And then she arrived, a massive spasm, cum everywhere, my head frozen and white with the intensity and I was gone.

I came and came and my body was still quivering with pleasure. Duncan held his wrist in there and slowly and expertly started his withdrawal, but only to replace his fingers by his massive cock. He slid straight in and could feel me quickly adjusting and clamping onto him, my pussy control having been trained to respond. Within seconds, he was adding his cum to mine, washing me with his expression of his manliness, making me his for his time with me.

God, I had no strength to move and I lay there, taking in the moment, electric shocks still bouncing around my body and slowly moaning, as Duncan lay on my body, owning me. I could learn to love this man but I knew instantly that I couldn’t.

Gradually he withdrew and Duncan asked if I would kiss him. I took him into a missionary hold with my legs and we French kissed. His tongue probed my mouth in a way that felt even more intimate than when he had taken my cunt and I could taste my own erotic, sticky juices on his face. We kissed like that for a long time before he gently slid into me to take me for a proper cock fuck. The afternoon was young, the night was to be long; my brain and cunt were to be rightfully pounded by him; I was his for our few hours before rightfully being put back into my chastity to await his cock the next time.

Part 10.

Mattie and Louise were thrilled to hear about the advertising deal in Qatar and that the bonus for me could be very substantial. I promised them a luxury holiday if it was landed and they could choose if it was to be sand and sea, inland France or elsewhere, or skiing. I was more cautious about the details of the sex expedition. I didn’t deny it, rather that Duncan had an old friend out there who was interested in a session with me, and Duncan being Duncan would have full screening of my safety and health before ever releasing me. That seemed to appease them.

Duncan was, in the meantime, nailing down the fine details for me whilst I focused on preparing my body. My nipples had healed well and Duncan had D rings inserted in them rather than bars the weekend before I was due to leave; these were rather nice I thought and certainly my nipples were more sensitive now.

I was due to fly out on a Thursday and then to return a week the following Tuesday, giving me two full weekends, starting Friday, with the Sheikh and also a working week and two more days, though I needed only some three to four days for what was required. I agreed with the girls that I would leave on the Wednesday morning and overnight in London as it would mean me leaving home by 5pm to be sure of making the flight. I booked in to Browns again and Duncan would join me there for last details and, no doubt, one more fuck session.

As to preparations, Duncan lent Mattie a key so that they could make proper love to me or rather vica versa before I left them. My hair was growing out and that I had styled into a nice ‘Va-va-voom’ style, a sexy look as the hair has such volume to it. Thick all around, the medium length style looked very classy as my hair was parted to one side with the hair curled outwards at the bottom. Soft bangs lightly fell on my forehead. The girls loved it. Secondly, the previous weekend I had my nails properly Frenched. Thirdly, I bought more cosmetics and fourthly, I had serious lingerie raids in London, being custom fitted in Rigby & Peller, and expeditions to Harvey Nicholls Agent Provocateur and Myla. Finally, my skin looked really good, as it had bronzed up nicely after a month of treatment.

By the way, as promised, I had received a deposit of £25000 onto my bank account.

I packed my lingerie, business clothes, threw in a swimsuit, three nighties and robes, and slipped in two vibrators and a couple of butt plugs along with other day-to-day normal items and various items of jewellery. I filled out ‘love you’ cards to the kids, Mattie and Louise and then left after breakfast with them, Mattie driving me to the station. As she rightly pointed out, it was only two days longer than a (genuine business) trip I had made to the States a few months before. We kissed and I was on my way.

Duncan and I met up in Browns and had a quick raid on a high-end sex shop where he bought me an Elemental Le Lynx titanium vibrator with three different shaped ends. I loved it and we used it on me after he had removed by Belt. This went in my case for my trip, along with my collar and cuffs. We had a nice dinner and then a lovely, passionate, last session with no beatings rendered, as he wanted my skin devoid of marks at the outset of my trip and lots of oral sex.

The weird thing in the evening was when Duncan handed me a brown envelope. Inside was a Qatari passport with my photo in, the tickets and boarding card for seat 2A and the special labelling to go on my bags to direct it towards diplomatic baggage. I had given him passport photos a few weeks back after being made up by Soha and her girls but it was still odd and with a sense of some apprehension when I saw myself with a second passport of another nation. Still, I do know one person who carried 5 passports, so I guess having a second ‘nationality’ may prove useful.

Duncan also ran through how I was to meet my greeter and that I would be quickly ‘expedited’ away from the airport; this sounded like I was a FedEx delivery.

I was up early to shower, make-up and dress as a Middle Eastern girl, as Soha had showed me. I decided on a white La Perla Art Deco bra with matching suspender belt and low waist brief. These were kind of retro in look but of a striking design if anybody had my clothing off straight away after arrival and they were soft for travel. I clipped on La Perla stockings too.

My clothing was simple a cream chiffon-silk just-below-the knee skirt with a nice waist belt built in, along with a luxurious green silk blouse through which my bra could just be seen, and a cream matching jacket. These came from one of my favourite new designers KJ’s Laundry. Cream low heels, some of my eastern gold jewellery and Duncan’s ring, a splash of Arabian Oud’s Prince Diamini perfume, and I was ready to set out on my long trip and what I considered my first true client, the others having been more tests of my ability to become a high class fetish escort.

I kissed Duncan gently goodbye as he was still asleep and let myself out of the room. Downstairs a nice Mercedes limo from the Embassy was dutifully waiting for me. We headed out of London in the early morning rush-hour to the airport. Check-in and passport control was a doddle, and my nerves of being a Qatari soon eased.

I was soon in the lounge relaxing; the flight was on time and it wasn’t that long before I was safely in 2A and the Airbus 340 was moving off the gate, en route to Doha and the adventures that lay ahead.

The flight was uneventful. Comfortable, good food for being at 30,000 feet, quiet and I worked on my business plan to push ahead on that. An hour out, the crew started the preparations for landing and I took the opportunity to refresh myself and put on my Abaya and Hijab. The veil could wait until just before disembarking. My nerves started to grow, firstly about entering Qatar and, secondly, with what was to come. It was similar, but more intense, to the excitement of being in front of a client’s bedroom door.

Final approach and down came the plain. It was night time and 7.45pm. I could see the sand and the bright lights of Doha. I had been here several years ago on a Gulf Air transit and it had certainly grown. The airport backs on close to the sea. The tyres on the plain touched down with their familiar bounce and then we were gliding to the terminals.

The usual disembarkation scramble took place and I put my Niqab on took my travelling and pc bags and waited for the main door to open. I got the “We hope that you have had a nice flight Ms. Salal bin Hamad,” and I stepped out into the heat and then the air conditioning kicked in. I was greeted by an airline official with my name on a small board who asked me to go with him and he duly took my travelling bag. We walked through to the 1st class immigration gate and he took me straight through, even though I had my passport in hand. Onto the luggage rack and very quickly my case was up and similarly treated, or rather ignored, by customs.

On the other side of immigration I was met by a woman dressed and veiled similarly to me and handed over to her. She greeted and welcomed me to Doha and the Salal bin Hamad family. She told me she was called Soraya and one of the senior family attendants. We headed outside and, still in air-conditioning; we got into this luxury Mercedes. It was not that far from the airport into town but the architecture was a dazzling mix of modern and traditional and we passed several green parks. We were soon pulling into the compound and around to the female quarters where I would be staying.

I was greeted at the door by one of Sheikh Salal’s wives, Sheikha Karimah, who was drop-dead gorgeous. She was late 40s, my height, with beautiful dark eyes, jet-black hair, dressed in a silk dress and with superb make up. She led me in and the quarters were, indeed, sumptuous, as Duncan said they would be. Just like the outside, modern was mixed with traditional such as in the use of a wind tower to cool down the main central court, (the Dewaniah where the women of the household meet and entertain), and old Arabic antiques along with an impressive collection of sculpture and ceramics.

After small cups of refreshing tea and idle talk over the flight, Karimah suggested showing me to my quarters to settle in and meet my three attendants. These girls would be responsible, twenty four-seven, for looking after me ‘to their best ability’ and they were there for advice and to help bathe, dress and prepare me for the Sheikh and the family.

Karimah led me to her block off the courtyard, explaining that each wife had a large apartment comprising of their own master suite, their children, lounges, a kitchen for their own use, and rooms for guests. I was to be her guest. We entered the guest suite and it was fabulous with a living room, bedroom and bathroom with an enormous deep bath even with seats in it. The rooms were decorated with a subtle blend of European and Arabic tastes, for example, intricately carved lower friezes in a pale sandalwood up to about 3 feet from the floor, earth tone walls to high ceilings, lovely silk curtains ‘Versailles’ style and lovely non-ornate furnishings. The bed was colossal and could sleep four or five in comfort and was covered in loads of large pillows and beautiful silk covers.

My attendants were there, Alima, Nasira, and Hana. They greeted me rather subserviently. All three of them were fairly small, young and dark skinned. They were of Jordanian origin. Alima was the curviest and full in her breasts; Hana was flat chested and elfish. Nasira had a gorgeous smile. All of them spoke English, albeit broken in Nasira’s case. I understood that at any point, there would be at least two of them present with me.

Karimah suggested to me that I quickly freshen up, but not to bother showering as I could do that later, and join her for some supper along with one of the other two wives, Sheikha Suha. I went to the bathroom and came back in to the bedroom. The girls had laid out a choice of kaftans and I chose a pretty green and cream one. I sat down and the quickly went to work on my make-up. Alima led me back to the courtyard and Karimah was there with Suha.

Suha, I learnt was the youngest wife of Sheikh Salal at 26 and very pretty with a lot more blonde in her hair than her elder counterpart. Karimah offered me a glass of wine and explained to me that, as Sunnites, they were allowed to serve wine to guests and even some imbibed, unlike stricter sects, as it did not affect their ability to be good Muslims.

Over a light supper of prawns, I learnt that Karimah was the oldest of the wives and the matriarch of the household. Each wife and their children had personal attendants and had yielded one up to serve me whilst I was with them. Beneath the attendants, there was a large staff of women to serve the household drawn from the Philippines and Bangladesh as well as the Yemen.

Slowly the conversation turned to the Sheikh. He was kind and compassionate and treated his female household well, though he expected loyalty and respect to him and his family, like many Arabs. Infringements were, however, treated seriously by him and fed into his sex life. He enjoyed BDSM and, for that, they were pleased to welcome a female aficionado into the house so as to take some of the pressure off them, even if only for a short time. Karimah mentioned that while they all accepted it as part of their life and got some pleasure in varying degrees, the Sheikh enjoyed sex in the presence of other men too and that I needed to be prepared for that. He was however careful with whom was involved.

She also said that the female household was pretty open to sex but, outside the wives, not with men obviously unless invited to do so by the Sheikh, as the household was very much his sole property and under his control. Lesbian sex was just at the level of wives and attendants and I could engage with the attendants as I wished and, of course, for the duration of my visit I had the status of a wife.

Lastly, the Sheikh, I was led to understand and Duncan had said something about this as well, was pretty well endowed. Karimah mentioned that she had learnt that I could handle that. The wives were interested to learn how to handle such a large girth so I went into some of the details; they said that they hoped to pick up on other ‘techniques’ during my stay! I must say that Karimah and Suha came across as being very open and nice, and there were chats and laughs about going shopping in the Ladies markets, as well as comparisons with shopping and life in London and Paris.

We parted at about quarter after ten and I headed back with Karimah to my room. She gave me a little kiss and said goodnight. On entering the room, Alima and Hana were there in short white robes. On the bed was laid out a stunning Liliana Casanova Champs D’Elysées cream silk, satin and chiffon full length night robe and gown. It was cream and mousseline and finished with a corset effect ribbon back and lace. I knew this was custom made and incredibly present. Next to it there was a pair of matching panties with a lace ribbon crotch that ran from my waist to back.

“Miss Yuwannā, (just Yuwannā please) these are a welcoming gift from Karimah to greet you to Doha. We have run you a bath.”

Indeed they had and this enormous bath was more than enticing, having been filled with an exotic scent.

“We can help you undress.”

So, I let them assist me and it was rather exotic to be treated like this. My clothing and lingerie was whisked away to be laundered; I wondered if Mattie would enjoy this job with all these women’s used panties to worship. I could see them inspecting my body, bronzed though it was my body colour was still lighter than theirs and my nipples were much pinker.

I stepped completely nude into the bath and the temperature was spot on for me. Alima undid her robe and followed me. Her body looked really cute. Without saying anything, she went to wash me starting with my back. Every part of me was cleaned by her and she enjoyed focusing on my nipples then my pussy and she lingered over my rings down there. I enjoyed feeling her finger sliding along my pussy. She then gave me a lovely massage which was just what I needed.

Stepping out of the bath, Hana was ready with thick towels for me. She helped me towel down, also enjoying my sights. I was then perfumed; just about the only thing I did myself was my teeth – and have a pee.

They then helped me into my panties and nightgown. It felt so lavish and soft and I felt thoroughly spoilt and pampered. I climbed into the really comfortable bed but the girls were not finished. Hana removed the towels and both girls appeared wearing short white nighties and tie-side panties on.

“Hana and I are available to sleep with you if you so wish; the Sheikha’s frequently like us to do so with them, but if you are so tired, then we understand.”

As it was still only about 8.30pm back in England, I invited them to join me as the bed was so large. I was asked if I wanted to watch TV or a film or blue movies that apparently covered girl to girl and BDSM movies. I suggested they tell me about as little about themselves if we were to be living together for the next week and a half. They all came from the same village in Jordan and had been at the same school. They were 23 and had been with the family for some 5 years, training for two and attendants for three. There was no contact with men, except for family members and they were off limits both ways, so sexually it was all female. The (good) money that they earned went back to their families and they had been able to travel a little as part of the Sheikha’s entourage. They certainly liked Karimah and their environment.

They cuddled into me and I gradually felt their hands gently exploring me. I said,

“If you wish to make love to me, girls, you can. I am very much bisexual and I enjoy women in many ways more than men.”

I lent over and kissed Alima gently and, after, turned to Hana. She responded by kissing me in an exploratory way with her tongue and I lay back to be submissive to them, in part to see how good they were. Alima played with her fingers across my breasts. It wasn’t long before I suggested getting out of my nightgown as I didn’t want to leave that damp and also that they should remove theirs. They helped me out of mine and then helped each other remove theirs. Their breasts and nipples were beautifully shaped and pert.

Both girls moved to play with my nipples and to nuzzle them, fascinated by the D rings that had been inserted into them. Alima moved slowly down my body, kissing me over my belly and then down around my mound and its creases onto my legs, but staying away from my pussy. Hana stayed on my breasts, sucking one and rolling the other with her delicate fingers.

Alima’s tongue found my clitoris and I felt the spark bounce into me. She gently placed her mouth over it and allowed her suction to do its work, in between using her tongue to caress over my emerging bud. Hana then moved over my breasts, swinging her legs up past my head and backed onto me to present her cunt to me for my tongue.

Both girls like me were devoid of pubic hair, something I prefer, as it gives me clearer access and Hana pussy was no exception. Small and tight with thin lips, I ran my tongue up, down and between her creamy lips, nipping her labial folds and, in doing so, getting her that little more excited. She arched back to lower her bottom onto my nose and I inhaled her exotic scent. I could feel the walls of her pussy opening ready to receive me, wanting me in her, wanting me to fuck her with my face.

Alima was seriously teasing my perineum, her tongue darting over my slippery surface and I could feel my own lubricant welling up in me. With her tongue, she stroked her tongue through my fluids, spreading them over me, up and down my inner labial lips but not as far as my clit. I was opening up for her wanting her in me.

These two were exciting me, building me up; my hips were gyrating, trying vainly to entice Alima to enter me and Hana to cum into my mouth. Alima ploughed my wet furrow up and down, slowly teasing me to open up for her. I was becoming hot with desire to be penetrated. I replicated her movements through to Hana, and I could sense her responding on my tongue; also she wanted me to enter her it.

Alima’s tongue found my wanton pussy and entered me; I too followed on Hana, with Hana moving to open up further for me. Alima’s fingers found my clit and started rubbing it furiously. Suddenly, and I don’t know where from, she pulled back and entered me with a nice full vibrator. God, it felt good as she fucked me with it and I bucked into Hana. I could hear Alima complimenting me over my body and how beautiful it was and how she wanted me to cum for her.

Alima withdrew her vibrator from my pussy and held it still at the creamy entrance to me. I took a deep breath and she pushed it back inside me, pushing hard into me this time. This had me pushing hard into Hana, wanting to scream into her. I could feel myself clamping my muscles around Alima’s artificial cock wanting it to satisfy me.

I was bucking now timing it with my tongue into Hana; her cream was flowing freely into me now and her breathing was getting harder with each lunge that I took. She was making low, soft sounds of pleasure every time I penetrated her. Hana was starting to gyrate with force on my face using what means she could to obtain her orgasm.

Alima’s tongue came onto my clit and this was the release I needed, coupled with Hana pressing as hard as she could down onto me. Hana’s pussy convulsed and I felt her thick, sweet cream surge out of her into my mouth. I unloaded, my body shivering and my brain going white with pleasure and, I think, actually ejaculating into Alima’s mouth. I heard sweet moans of pleasure emerging from both girls. Hana was thrashing around on me but I stayed in her to delight in her love juices. Alima’s tongue lingered on my pussy, which kept me on my high.

Slowly we came down off our peaks only to end up going for another strong orgasm as the girl’s switched position. Hana, with a strap dildo, and Alima riding a chin cock that she produced. I was later to find that there was an enormous range of toys to use in this feminine palace.

We ended up curling up together with both girls on either side of me in their simple white nighties and me wearing this heavenly nightie that Karimah had give me.

Part 11.

Next morning, I woke and the girls pleasured me once again before bathing me and preparing me for the day. Again, I wasn’t allowed to wear my own lingerie but was put into a nice cream Marie-Jo set. It was then breakfast, no bacon sandwiches here, but with some delicious coffee and, afterwards, I went and visited the Sheikh’s offices for my initial meetings.

I was back for the midday prayers and lunched with all three wives. I thanked Karimah for her wonderful gift and she was so nice about it, saying it was nothing.

Sheikha Aliyyah was there for the first time, she had had a foundation meeting last night. She was most charming and well educated and also pretty in her looks. She was an Iranian by origin, 38, and had been at Tehran University and the Sorbonne working on social anthropology before meeting the Sheikh through a family introduction. She too reiterated her pleasure at having me present and said that she would be the wife to accompany me to the Sheikh’s bedroom tonight. I should sleep, rest, have dinner and then have my attendants prepare me.

I got back to the room and found that Nasira and Hana were on duty. I did some paperwork and caught up on e-mails before having a little relief session with the two girls. I just needed a little stimulation, guessing what lay ahead this evening and to keep myself for that. Nasira was rather delicious and very adept with a strap-on as Hana queened me for a second time.

I slept for an hour and a half with the two girls and woke to the sound of the Mullah for the end of the siesta prayers. I asked the girls to run me a bath and asked were they alright in administering me a substantial enema to ensure I was thoroughly clean. I also asked them to check that I was completely smooth.

The bath was again a wonderful soak and Hana slipped in with me to ensure I was properly cleaned. Out into the fluffy towels that Nasira was holding and a robe, Nasira set to work on my hair while, Hana, once dried off, worked on my toenails and cleaning up my French finger-nails. Hana applied some henna, intricately decorating my hands and feet. Nasira worked on my make up, working up my cheekbones and my eyes into a classic local look, dark and sultry. My lipstick was a very dark burnt red that was then outlined. Lastly, I was doused in a luxury Dehnal Oud Maliki perfume.

Out came the first part of my jewellery. The girls started by attaching diamond emerald cut earrings into my ears and then Nasira ‘sewed’ up my pussy with a small leather and platinum lace. She then attached a platinum waist band around me and from the front of it fixed a chain down to my pussy piercing, and a second chain hanging down my back to the nape of my bottom with a small Arabic inscription and a drop pearl.

She attached my Neosteel collar that I had brought with me and ran a chain down to my waistband. Chains are significant in Arabic culture, reflecting the Bedouin heritage. From the collar, she attached a necklace with small charms and from the bottom of the necklace, chains across to my nipple rings. Over the necklace went another chain with a platinum pendant, this being my “Allah” pendant; it was beautifully inscribed.

The girls then pulled out my lingerie, an ensemble of La Perla Ingenue comprising of a bandeau bra with glossy satin cups, embellished with lace, a matching suspender belt with the matching floral lace panels, but slightly opened between the top and bottom strap as they came into the clasp at the back. The garters were elasticated with a high quality strap and Hana rolled on a pair of La Perla stockings and attached and adjusted them so they were taut on my legs.

The panties were a matching semi-thong with a lace ‘v’ on the front that one could see the outline of my pussy and just my clit ring with its chain running upwards. The panties were designed to attach to stretch ribbons to two rings on either side of my mound and then behind, my bottom was on view through the semi-transparent lightweight and tulle that came between the ribbons.

Following all this extravagant lingerie, Nasira attached my ankle and thigh cuffs, and then took two diamond studded chains and attached those around my ankles underneath the cuffs. She then fixed a matching diamond banded ring onto each of my two index toes, pulling the sparkling chains between the toe and the anklet. These were traditional step limiters and Nasira mentioned that the diamonds tonight were a gift from Aliyyah and Suha. Over this went soft slipper shoes.

Hana had pulled out my dress, not what I would normally wear. This was a floor length silver shimmering evening dress with my left shoulder laced and sleeved, so that the sleeve hung down as a shawl on my lower arm. My right shoulder was bare down to my breast cup. Below my breast line, the dress was textured and beaded in a sand-like ripple effect with the ripples running downwards. The whole effect was light and shimmering. I stepped into it and Hana fastened the back.

My final jewellery started with my wrist cuffs. Over these were put platinum and diamond bangles, some with small ornaments and inscriptions off them. So even though I was in pre-bondage, the jewellery I was wearing complimented my wear and that I was in the ownership of the sheikh. No watch was added, time being irrelevant when it came to serving and pleasing him.

Some more perfume and kisses from the girls. Nasira had slipped into a simple pretty kaftan and she led me out to the courtyard. The three wives were there looking stunning with their outfits and jewellery and I thanked Aliyyah and Suha for their gorgeous presents; they inspected the bangles and ear-rings, asked to see my feet and loved the traditional style.

Kamirah said that we were heading out for a traditional family meal in my honour and that, obviously, we needed to put on Abayas, Hijabs and veils. Firstly though, I was introduced as a friend of the family to their five daughters. The attendants were there in numbers to help us cover up and we headed outside to waiting Mercedes. I travelled with Aliyyah as she was my host tonight; her daughter came with us.

We headed out in convoy and drove through Doha and all its lights and glamour, through the suburbs, and out into the desert. Eventually, we could see lights and this large tented camp appeared out of the dark. I had heard about these family ‘camps’ and the feast dinners that are held at them long before coming out to Qatar.

The cars pulled in and we all got out and then walked through to this massive tent. Off the back were small permanent structures and a number of smaller tents where all the kitchens and support units were. Inside the tent there were a number of men, all relatives and sons of the Sheikh, along with staff serving drinks and small snacks. This was truly a family affair. We walked in and there was the Sheikh. Kamirah, Suha and Aliyyah took me in to meet him for the first time, Aliyyah holding my hand.

The Sheikh was approximately 5 foot 10, 57, well built. He was in traditional dress like the rest of the males of the family, namely the white thoub, the shumagg and the black bands of the ogal hiding the thagiyah. His only evident luxury was a diamond watch.

The Sheik welcomed his wives with a courteous Arabic greeting and then Karimah introduced me. He extended his hand and welcomed me to the family, speaking fluent English. He asked about my travel out, that I had arrived safely thanks to the grace of Allah, and the comfort of the quarters and that I had everything that I needed. I replied with a simple thank you and indeed how comfortable the Sheikhas had made me.

We went into the main hospitality tent and I was introduced to other members of the family. A glass of cold white wine surprisingly appeared. At the Sheikh’s insistence, and as I was considered as family, everybody removed their hajibs and headwear.

I was invited to sit next to the Sheik and the Sheikas accompanied us with one of the elder sons. The family tended to divide by sex after that. The food was spectacular with roasted lamb on saffron rice, bowls of stewed vegetables and some which were deliciously spicy. Tea and coffee seemed to be the main drink of choice. Music came from a traditional Arab group. Conversation between the family members was warm and sometimes teasing but, like most Arabic families, issues and business were relegated to private discussions so this was not the forum. The Sheikh gently questioned me about my education and background and was showed that he was impressed with what I had achieved in life and in business.

The evening passed quickly and soon it was time to leave. The Sheikh suggested that Aliyyah and I return together and then a second car would bring our attendants and that they should prepare the two of us for later.

We returned to the compound and the driver dropped us at the back of the Sheikh’s block; this was an entrance reserved for his women to enter. It was a short walk up the stairs and into his enormous bedroom suite. Off that there was a corridor with an office, gym and, at the passage end, we entered what was obviously his sex-room.

Nasira and Aliyyah’s attendants entered and helped us out of our Abayas and then our dresses. Aliyyah was wearing black lingerie too as well as necklace chains and jewellery. Her attendant, Hessa, attached ankle and wrist cuffs onto her. She looked closely at my collar and cuffs commenting that they were much more sinister than hers; I explained that they were from my chastity set and I would show her the belt.

Nasira removed my panties, undid my lacing and then clipped chains onto my rings to open me up; these she attached to my thigh cuffs. Her next act was to produce a metal yoke and secured my neck in it and attached my wrist cuffs to it so I was immobilised on my upper body. She led me over to a stand that looked like a half barrel and pushed me over it, attaching a short chain up onto my collar. My legs were then spread out and secured. Meanwhile, Aliyyah had been secured on her back to a low bench by her attendant. She was pushed forward and under my pussy, just at a nice height to pleasure me. Hessa brought her mistress’s panties to me, slipped them on over my head so that I too could take in her fresh, damp scents.

Hessa then apparently pleased her mistress with her tongue to get her moist so as to bring up a fucking machine. She set this off a low, unhurried rate to screw her mistress with the effect of pushing Aliyyah’s tongue into me.

The girls then stepped back to the sides of the room; Aliyyah teasing the insides of my lips, sucking on my rings and, at the same time, having to take the strokes of the cock penetrating her love hole without mercy.

Into this scene of lesbian submission came the Sheikh dressed just in a black, cotton jock strap that did little to hide his considerable package. He walked around and inspected the handmaidens’ work and his fingers went into gently feel my pussy, which was already getting wet. The next thing I felt was a crack across my bottom which surprised me and pushed me down onto Aliyyah’s tongue that was starting to bounce with pleasure as she tasted my creamy honey.

A second crack of the flogger descended across my bottom, this time on my other cheek. The same reaction and he then rolled the flogger up and down me, skillfully building up a cumulative effect of heat and pain on me, as well as bouncing onto Aliyyah and take her erotic odour in as I inhaled after gasping. Quickly, I could feel my first orgasm building and I knew by Aliyyah’s tongue rate and the way that she had moved deeper into my pussy, rather than her previous focus on my clit and lips, that she too was approaching hers.

The Sheikh moved around me varying his angle of ‘attack’ and letting the floggers strands find my crevices. His cracks onto my sides and under my arms had me squirming and squeezing down on Aliyyah. The action of this ‘sweet and sour’ of pain and pleasure had me wanting to release and it was Aliyyah extending what was evidently a long tongue that tipped me over. I was arching my bottom and sent me rippling with pleasure, bathing her in my cum, which she took in. I heard her hit her high and rested down onto her as the Sheikh pulled back from his flogging of me.

Our attendants were summoned and came forward to release us from this position but not from the yoke. She led me over for me to be put over a padded bar, Nasira pulled down a second bar into the small of my back and attached the top of the yoke to a chain hanging down from the ceiling. My leg cuffs were attached to foot chains and my thighs locked in by chains from the wall, again spreading me wide.

Nasira took some weights on small chains and hung them from my nipple rings; this pulled them downwards sharply duly engorging them and getting them to send messages to my brain that I was to shortly cum again.

Having had the fucking machine removed, Aliyyah was moved by Hessa onto another bench, a little like the one that I had been mass-taken on. She was secured to that with large straps and also using her cuffs. The frame was elevated into the air so that it could slide back onto me so that I could service her between her legs. Hessa took my panties that I had been wearing to the dinner and put them over Aliyyah’s head.

The sight of her was a really nice looking pussy. She was dark coloured but this served to highlight the pinkness inside her lips. She had a lovely little clit, topped by a distinctive hood and framed with a neatly shaped pubic mons. Her outer labial lips were stripped of any hair as was her perineum leading down to a tight anal flower. I gently explored her with my tongue, enjoying my first direct taste of her sweet fragrance, and her residue from her previous orgasm.

Nasira and Hessa had stepped back out of the spotlights and I sensed the Sheikh behind me. His hand wandered over my bottom and up to my pearl that hung off my waistband. Slowly his fingers sensuously danced there way down the inside of my buttocks towards my pussy. This felt good. He hovered over me, teasing me with my rings by gently tugging on them; I felt him slide a finger into me to withdraw and taste it.

I was enjoying Aliyyah and in pleasing her lovely pussy, tempting her love button out of its home, getting her to whimper with pleasure and to wiggle her bottom as much as she could given her restraint.

The Sheikh, having sampled my ‘goût,’ had stepped back and pulled out a crop. I heard the familiar ‘swoosh’ as it came in and landed on my bottom. This stroke, I felt, cut into me; he followed it with more, working over my bottom, then strokes onto my thighs and back. Each jolt had me wanting to distract myself in pleasing Aliyyah more. He was working me over good and proper and I needed relief myself. Eventually his fingers returned and then I felt his tongue, probing my lips, taking in my clit. My swelling pussy started to quickly respond to this tender play and I could feel myself beginning to produce its honey juice for him. I tried to push back onto him as I couldn’t arch myself.

Meanwhile, I focused even more on Aliyyah’s pussy, my tongue rolling deeper into her. I could hear her whimpering now for relief. She tried to push back onto me and I probed her little anus, my tongue entering its hallowed space; I could strap her right now if I could.

The Sheikh continued his play on me, rolling my clit deftly and up and down the inside of my puffy labia. I felt him moving behind me and, then, he was there. He was huge in girth; everything the Sheikas and Duncan had said about him was true. He pushed at my entrance, running his hard circumcised cock up and down my wet, wet slit. And then he thrust home, opening me up. My pussy took him, just; all the training had paid off. He slid into me, my breasts and my weighted nipples juddering with his motion. My mouth, nose and eyes buried deeper into Aliyyah, hopefully giving her more pleasure.

He started fucking me, fucking me hard and true. I could feel every detail of his veined cock. He felt like a pony in me, not that I had ever experienced that. I drove home with my pure lust on his wife in front of me. I could feel her starting to cum, her love juices were starting to get creamier and in the way she was rocking on me. He continued to drive into me, stretching every inch of me, his pressure right over my g-spot. This was what I needed and I felt myself cumming. Then the wave hit me, square on firstly I felt Aliyyah finding her high mountain and, secondly, The Sheikh, exploded into me. This sent me completely over the top and I just about blacked out as my orgasm blew my brain. My breasts and nipples felt that they had electric shocks buzzing them and my pussy was on fire with this lovely penis, still hard in me.

I dominate my husband with prostate milkings and strap-on discipline!!!!!!

Now that that’s out of the way, a little background information on how we got to this point in our lives.

I am not your typical leather-clad dominatrix that you see on TV. As far as I’m concerned, all that leather is just for show! I am your typical normal, unassuming housewife that you would never expect to be a dominant person to begin with.

I am 5’6″ and about 120 lb’s. My husband is 5′ 11″, 190 lb’s and has a muscular build. Our relationship started just like any other relationship would start, but somewhere along the way things started to change, and as far as I’m concerned, they changed for the better.

Our sex life was also very “vanilla” and normal. The kinkiest we ever got was when he slapped my ass a few times when we were having sex doggie-style, but that was about it.

Things really started to change when he landed a high-level management position in a new company. Although the money was a lot better, the job was very demanding and the stress level was through the roof.

Often times his stress level would manifest itself at home, and he would often be on edge and very difficult to even have a conversation with, even snapping at me when I tried to talk to him.

This was obviously straining our relationship at home, and making life very difficult. He was unhappy, and so was I. We were constantly at each other’s throats.

The answer to our problems came at a most unlikely time. One night when we actually got along long enough to have sex, my mind started to wander about half way through and I started to think about all of the things that had been going on recently in our relationship.

First, I felt a sense of sadness that our relationship was going down the tubes, but then that sadness was replaced by a sense of anger and frustration. My frustrations were building-and-building when suddenly; I lashed out in frustration and gave him a hard slap on the side of his ass cheek. (We were in a missionary position and I was on the bottom)

At first, I hadn’t even realized what I had done, but the look on his face as he was staring down at me had confirmed it.

He had a shocked look on his face, and to tell you the truth, I felt a sense of shock and disbelief as well. I couldn’t believe that I had done that!! I did the only thing I could think of at the moment and stared directly into his eyes.

We locked eyes for what seemed an eternity, but in reality were probably only ten, or so seconds. He eventually looked away and we continued to have sex, but this event would eventually change everything!

Once we were finished, he actually laid his head on my shoulder and eventually fell asleep. He hadn’t showed any affection like that for quite some time! Naturally, I was intrigued and spent the next few days going over the night’s events in my head. Meanwhile, everything was pretty much back to our normal, dysfunctional daily routine of very little communication, and constant bickering.

About a week later, we were once again having sex in our normal “vanilla” position of missionary style, when I decided to try and replicate the events of the other night. I was obviously nervous and unsure of what his reaction would be, but I had decided to give it a try anyway.

I really yearned for that little bit of affection he had displayed the other night. Even though we were going through some tough times, I really love and care about him. Besides, how could things get any worse? We were already at each other’s throats most of the time.

Once I built up the courage I went for it.


I gave him a firm, but not terribly hard slap on his right ass cheek. Again, he stopped and stared directly down at me with a look of surprise. Once again I didn’t budge and looked directly into his eyes. After a few seconds he looked away and continued to fuck me.

A sense of both relief, and excitement began to flood my body. I was relieved that he didn’t flip out, and I was excited because this was kind of erotic in a way.

I waited a few minutes and delivered another one, this time on his left ass cheek.


This time he didn’t look into my eyes, but instead, just kept fucking me. After a few minutes we finished, and sure enough, he laid his head on my shoulder and eventually fell asleep. Neither of us said a word.

Now I knew this wasn’t some sort of fluke! These were the only two times in the past couple of months that he showed some affection towards me. Even though it was just a small display of affection, it was still something, and I was desperate to explore it, because I wanted more! So many thoughts were floating around in my head about the recent events, when suddenly; I got a “Eureka” moment if you will.

I know this sounds corny, but I suddenly remembered something about a TV show that I had seen a while back. The show was called “Taxi Cab confessions” and the episode that I had seen was with a lady in the back of a cab talking about how her boyfriend, who is a high level executive likes to be dominated by her.

She went on to describe that she thought it was because he was always the one with the power at work, and his job all day long is to tell people what to do, that when he gets home he likes somebody else to be in-control and tell him what to do for a change. Or something to that affect, from what I remember.

Now, things were starting to make a little more sense to me. Could it be that my husband and I were in the same situation? I mean, we got along well before his new stressful job, and slowly after he got it things started to go downhill. So, I decided to do some investigating. I turned to the Internet for some answers, and I was quite overwhelmed by the amount of information that I was able to find. I was even more surprised to see that this kind of scenario really wasn’t that uncommon, and in some cases, even saved the marriages of some couples!

I laughed when I was reading one of the articles that a wife wrote because of the analogy that she used. She said, “A guy’s dick is kind of like a stick-shift on a car, you can use it to control him just like you can on a car.” In short, she just meant that some guys needed the control. It was really that simple!

I found a lot of valuable information, but the one thing I learned is that not every relationship is going to be the same, so what might work for one, might not work for another. Every relationship is a dynamic situation, and the methods applied are going to vary from one to the other.

So, I decided to give this whole thing a try. All of the articles I read had one thing in common, and that was to take things slow. Slow and steady wins the race.

It took a long time, I would say probably over a year to get to where we are today in our relationship, but now I wear the pants in our house and things have improved tremendously! Like I had mentioned before, different things work for different people, it really depends on the relationship and the people themselves, but after many avenues of approach I found that orgasm denial and strap-on discipline work best for us. I had tried a lot of different things and nothing really yielded the kind of results that I get from the two.

Things started slowly, and progressed from there. During our normal “vanilla” sessions of sex I would wait until he was getting close to cumming and then stop him. I would flip the position so that I was on top and he was on the bottom, so that I could work his cock with my pussy. This is the part that takes a lot of time. During these sessions, I would pay close attention to his reactions and facial expressions as I fucked him.

Do I get a better reaction out of him fucking him slow or hard?

Teasing the head of his cock with pussy before I slide down on his shaft?

How long can I keep him on the edge before he explodes? Etc…..

These are the little details that really matter. Like I said before, everybody is different, so what works for one person may not work for another. It is important to get to know every little nook and cranny of the person, so that you can use this knowledge to your benefit.

As time went on, I really started to get to know his body and all of the subtle twitches and reactions that I had learned about him. His body was basically speaking to me and all I had to do was pay attention and listen. After a while, I probably knew his body better than he did!

Once I knew what to look for and how to work his cock, I started to use it to my advantage. Through my experimentation, I found that when he is in a heightened state of arousal is when he is the most vulnerable. This is usually the time I use to my advantage.

Either I use this time to explain to him what I expect from him in the future, or I sometimes use it to explain to him what he has done wrong and what he should expect as a punishment for it. When he is in this state of heightened arousal, it is like his mind is an open door and everything I tell him gets through.

I almost never get any objections from him when I tell him what to do when he is in this state and when I do, I use my means of discipline to squash that real quickly. (More on that later) I use several methods to get him to this heightened state of arousal. It used to take a while to find that “sweet spot” of arousal, usually a few days of constant teasing, but I have found a way that is a lot less work for me and seems to work wonders on keeping him in that constant state of arousal. It is called a prostate milking.

The prostate milking is really a girl’s best friend, in my opinion. Like I said before, it used to take me a long time to try and work him up to a heightened state of arousal. Countless hand jobs and blow jobs without ejaculation over the course of a few days is really what it took.

Don’t get me wrong, I still use these methods and enjoying doing them, but the prostate milking is really my favorite way to achieve orgasm denial.

Now, this wasn’t easy because like most of the guys that I have encountered, he doesn’t like his ass played with at all. It’s kind of one of his fears or phobias, so this was really slow going. The way I achieved this is by using my teasing and denial techniques that I have slowly mastered over the course of a year.

After a few failed attempts of trying to get anywhere near his ass, a slow, methodical hand-job is what did the trick. I waited till he was nice and sensitive, which he usually is after a couple of days of teasing, and then I got to work.

One night, I lubed up his cock and went to town. I stroked his cock slowly, over the course of what must have been an hour. I watched his body signals and I kept him on the edge the whole time. Towards the end, he was almost crying from the frustrations he was feeling. He was begging me to let him cum, and of course I wouldn’t let him.

To tell you the truth, it was turning me on and I was enjoying it! Slowly, as he begged and pleaded, I would make my way to his ass and just rub his asshole. He would try and squeeze his legs together to prevent it, but with a few strokes of his super sensitive cock, they opened right back up for me.

“Are you going to give me what I want?” I would tease him

“You are making this worse than it has to be?”

After a while, I was able to get a little penetration with my index finger, but didn’t get very far. It was okay though; the fact that I even got that far was amazing. I stopped trying to play with his ass and rewarded him for his good behavior and let him cum. He exploded everywhere. His orgasm must have been intense, because he couldn’t even speak for a minute or two as he slowly recovered.

The next few sessions were kind of the same, except for each time I got my finger a little further into him. It was kind of cute in a way. Every time I would slide my finger in deeper, his balls would kind of twitch and move up. I didn’t want to push him too far too fast, so I only went a little further every time. After all, I didn’t want to hurt him.

When I finally felt comfortable that he could handle my whole finger, I went ahead and sank it in as far as I could. I got to tell you, there was definitely something erotic about the whole experience! The whole thing felt kind of taboo and wrong, but I was enjoying it! Now for the next step which is trying to find the prostate.

I read extensively about it on the Internet, so I knew what to look for, but I had a little trouble locating it at first.

Finally, I found it and began to rub it like the article had read, but after trying it for a while I wasn’t able to yield any results. The article said that cum should begin to ooze out, but nothing happened and I stopped in frustration. I rewarded him, and myself, and let him fuck the shit out of me as a reward for obeying me and letting me explore.

The next few nights I tried again, and still nothing. I kind of felt bad for my husband, because I’m sure all of my “practicing” must have not been very comfortable. He still didn’t even know what the hell I was trying to do to him. All he knew was that I had my finger up his ass, and he wasn’t too happy about it, but I always let him fuck me after, so he wasn’t complaining too much.

I went back to the Internet and did some more research. I found some helpful articles that showed some good techniques on how to do it, and I also read that it is best if his balls are nice and full, so that you can get a nice load out of him.

So, I took the advice of the article that I had read and let almost two weeks go by without letting him cum, some light teasing sessions here and there but no cum. A nice load was waiting to be milked out of his balls.

I was determined to get results! I had him lie on his back and began with a nice slow hand job. He was super sensitive, so it didn’t take much before I saw a drop of pre-cum forming at the head of his dick. I didn’t want him to explode, so once I worked my finger into his ass, I spaced out the frequency of the strokes. I located his prostate and got to work.

I massaged his prostate using the techniques that I had read online. Every few minutes, I would stroke his cock to kind of keep him on the edge. After a while, I thought it was going to be another failed attempt when all of the sudden his body language began to change and I could see his facial expressions changing as well. I continued to massage his prostate and slowly I could see cum begin to drip from his cock.

I slowly stopped stroking his cock all-together, and just rubbed the underside of it with the palm of my free hand as it lay on his stomach. I watched intently and with sort of a feeling of accomplishment as the cum slowly dribbled out of his cock.

As I continued, I could hear him groaning and I could feel his sphincter contracting around my finger. I could tell by his reactions and the look on his face that he wasn’t happy, and probably kind of confused. He was cumming, but not in the way that he was used to cumming. The article said that he wouldn’t feel any of the same pleasurable feelings that he would normally feel during ejaculation. Instead, it would feel more like he had to pee and could feel rather uncomfortable for him.

I felt the need to reassure and comfort him, so as I milked him, I looked right into his eyes and began to comfort him at the same time.

“I know you’re confused baby, but its okay. Just try and relax for me.”

“I know it’s uncomfortable, but this something that we need. It’s something that you need!”

“Haven’t things been better for us since I took charge?”

“After being in-charge all day at work isn’t it nice to let go and have me take the reins?”

He didn’t respond, but I knew my words were getting through to him. He needed my control and he knew it, but being the man that he is, it wasn’t going to be easy for him to break that mentality and relinquish that control very easy, so it was something that was going to be a work in progress.

I continued the prostate massage until I couldn’t get any more cum out of his balls. Slowly, I withdrew my finger from his ass and began to wipe the cum off of his belly with the bed sheets. His cock was as flaccid as could be and he just laid there in silence. He wouldn’t look at me, so I decided to just leave him alone. I’m sure there were a million things running through his mind right now, so I figured I would just let him sit there and think.

I let a few days go by and then one morning as he was shaving in the bathroom getting ready for work, I rewarded him with a nice blow job. Needless to say, he was very happy. When I was done, I threw in the comment:

“See what happens when you cooperate with me? I said as I walked out of the bathroom

Slowly, he seemed to recover from the initial shock of his first prostate milking and after a week or so, I decided it was time for another one. I went about it the same way as I did the first time, but this time he knew what was coming and he really tried to fight me on it.

Not so much with words at first, but with his body. He would try and squeeze his legs together and swat my hand away every time I would go near his ass.

Finally, I was able to impose my will on him and slowly but surely, my finger was on it’s way into his ass. He was still pleading with me not to do it as my finger slid all of the way into him. I located his prostate and got to work. Slowly, his pleads for me to stop were replaced by his groans as the prostate massage began to take effect.

“That’s it………Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…………There’s no fighting it baby! We both know that you need this!”

“I’m going to give you everything that I know you need. I just need you to trust me.”

“Do you trust me?”

He didn’t respond verbally, but he nodded his head in approval as he bit his bottom lip from the intensity of the feelings that must have been going through his body.

“Gooooooooooooood!!!! Now just try and relax for me and let me give you what you need!”

I was beginning to get good at this, because cum began to ooze from his cock a lot quicker than it had the last time. I continued the dialogue between us because I think the mental domination is just as important as the physical one.

“You like doing things for me don’t you?”

“Uhhhhhhhuuuuuhhhhhhh” he managed to utter

“I know you do baby and I like doing things for you. This is all for you!”

Once I emptied him thoroughly, I withdrew my finger and wiped him clean. I was so wet from the whole experience that I immediately climbed onto his face and had him lick me to orgasm! Once he was finished, I leaned into him and reassured him of how well he was doing with our new relationship and how happy he was making me. I assured him that we were on the right path in making our relationship even better and as long as he let me lead, we were going to be in good shape.

Now, it is important that I mention that outside our home, my husband is still the man. He is the one that’s in-charge, especially when we are in front of other people. That is something that is very important in our relationship. It’s not that he’s some kind of wimp, nor do I want that kind of husband, it’s just that he needs control and structure when it comes to our relationship in the home and in our bedroom. Perfectly normal I think. There needs to be a healthy balance in the relationship, it cannot be one sided and all about one person.

The next few sessions I was getting better-and-better with the milkings. After a while, I was able to prolong the milkings considerably via the amount of pressure and technique I was using on his prostate. I would prolong the session as long as possible if I encountered any kind of resistance from him in-between his milkings as a form of punishment, and I would explain to him the whole time of why I had to do it. Very effective!

JJ the pony wants to please the Mistress. He is new to being a pony, so he is trying extra hard to be good. JJ has a strong back, a tight ass, and a beautiful cock. He has sweet eyes and a handsome face. JJ makes a great pony. Ponies are generally considered intelligent and friendly, though sometimes they also are described as stubborn or cunning. Mistress chose JJ to be her pony because of all these qualities. She likes to have the best things in life, and JJ is one of those. JJ can often be stubborn, so that is why Mistress carries a crop. JJ is cunning too, and this is what captures Mistress’ heart.

Mistress brings JJ out to the pasture. He needs training. She hates to have to use the whip, but JJ is petulant, and sometimes he won’t behave. When JJ starts his training, he wants to do what he wants to do. He wants to prance for the Mistress, but he doesn’t want to work. Mistress needs a working pony. JJ runs off on his own, looking back and defying Mistress. She waits him out. Finally he comes to Mistress. She feeds him sugar from her hand. JJ licks shyly at first. Mistress is patient. She feeds him an apple. JJ takes it slowly, not sure if this is what the Mistress wants. Mistress strokes JJ’s neck and head, whispering into his ear. Mistress says, “JJ, I need a pony to ride. I need a pony to keep me company. I need a pony that can carry me. Can you do this?” JJ nods, and nuzzles close to Mistress.

Mistress explains that there will be a lot of training, and eventually JJ will need to perform in front of Mistress’ friends. Mistress likes to show off. She likes her lady friends to know that she has a sweet pony like JJ. She starts to explain to JJ what will be required.

Mistress starts JJ’s training by saddling him. She places a riding saddle on his broad strong back. JJ bucks at first. He thought Mistress was making fun of him. Mistress explains that she is not making fun of him, but she is owning and controlling him for his own good. She explains that if he acts out, she will humiliate him.

She places the saddle on his back. It takes a while for him to settle down. Mistress holds the crop. She swings it and slaps her own hand to show JJ she knows how to use it. She slaps him on the haunch to show him what it feels like. JJ flinches. Mistress says that he will get more pain if he doesn’t act right. Slowly, Mistress calms JJ. She strokes his neck and praises him, telling him what a pretty pony he is. She strokes his back and praises how strong and solid he is, and how she will enjoy riding him. She strokes his haunches and tells him how firm and muscular they are, and how this turns on Mistress. Mistress likes a strong pony.

Mistress starts to tighten the saddle. JJ resists, and Mistress smacks him on the haunches with her crop. She reminds him that she will whip him if she has to. Then she strokes his pretty face and tells him what a good strong pony he is, and how he can make her proud of him. She tightens it some more. He starts to struggle. Mistress decides that he is testing her, so she smacks him several times on the rear. JJ is squirming, and Mistress strikes his balls a few times too. She reaches underneath his belly to feel if the saddle is tight, and sees his balls are tight and his big beautiful cock is hard. Mistress loves JJ’s cock. She loves to ride it. But she won’t let herself be distracted. She needs to start the training. Mistress strokes JJ’s cock and balls while she swats him at first softly, and then harder and harder on his sweet ass with the crop. Sometimes she strikes him hard. Sometimes she barely touches him. Sometimes she just tickles him with the crop. Soon JJ doesn’t fear the crop, and even welcomes it. This is what Mistress wants. She wants him to welcome the crop whether he needs to be punished or not.

Mistress starts to place a bit in JJ’s mouth. JJ resists. Mistress becomes stern. She pulls him by the saddle around so she can swat him again. He becomes docile quickly and she rewards him by stroking him all over: neck, face, chest, back, cock, balls, and ass. Mistress loves JJ’s body, and loves to pleasure him. But he needs to learn to earn his pleasure. Now Mistress approaches JJ again with the bit, and he opens his mouth to allow it. Mistress is so happy she can hardly stand it. She tells JJ what a good pony he is, and reaches under his belly to stroke his hard cock for a good long time. JJ stands still, enjoying the stroking. Soon he forgets he has a bit in his mouth.

Mistress attaches a bridle to the bit. She is going to teach JJ how to be a pony. She places a halter around his head. JJ starts to resist again, and Mistress does not hesitate to whip JJ with her crop. JJ likes the strike of the crop. It lets him know that Mistress is in charge. JJ likes for Mistress to be in charge. It lets him be playful and carefree, and allows her to take all the responsibility.

Finally JJ is ready to begin his training. He is cinched into his saddle. He has the bit between his teeth, and has the bridle attached. Mistress can’t wait to teach him. Mistress begins teaching JJ to canter. He at first wants to frolic and resist, and this brings the crop onto his beautiful ass over and over. His ass cheeks are red and flaming, but he must like it, because his cock is hard and red and standing at attention. Mistress makes sure to swat his balls whenever she can, and then reaches under and strokes that hard prick occasionally. JJ nuzzles up to Mistress when she strokes his cock. JJ has such a beautiful cock: possibly the most beautiful Mistress has ever seen, sucked, fucked, or stroked.

Mistress has lady friends who have ponies, too. She has entered JJ in a contest to compete against the other ladies’ ponies. Mistress wants JJ to win. If he does, she will reward him well. If he doesn’t, she will punish him harshly, and she will do it in front of the ladies. Mistress’ lady friends are training all their boys to do many things. Some are house boys. Some are puppies. JJ has played puppy for Mistress before. She was very happy with how he did with that, so she is confident that he can do well as a pony, too.

Pony training is different than puppy training. JJ will actually have to work as a pony, carrying Mistress in her magnificence. The day of the race finally arrives, and Mistress is thrilled. She is confident in JJ’s abilities, and is sure he will win the ribbon. Mistress takes incredible care with her dress that day. She dresses like an English lady, but a fetish version. She is wearing a big hat with a huge feather and netting that falls over her small face. Her hair is curled and tumbling down over her shoulders. Her dress is a laced corset dress of intricate brocade accentuating all her curves. The corset pushes up her lovely smooth breasts. Her nipples are barely covered. The milky tops are fully exposed. Her waist is cinched tightly like JJ is cinched into his saddle. Her hips are covered tightly with velvet. Her skirt is slit high up her thigh, almost showing her pussy. She sits side saddle, letting her legs drape to the side, her legs creamy and exposed. JJ is prancing with Mistress on his back, paying close attention not to knock her off.

When they arrive, all the ladies are in the saddle, but most are riding Western. Mistress and her friend Lady Luxury are the only ones daring enough to ride side saddle. Mistress wears high heeled boots that sculpt her ankles and expose her legs. Mistress looks like a picture, and JJ is proud she is his mistress.

There are several competitions. First the ponies race with no riders. In order to do that, JJ has to make sure Mistress is able to dismount easily. He takes her carefully to a plush chair. She climbs down from the saddle, turning and showing JJ her exposed legs and the tops of her thighs, and maybe just barely her puffy lips. Mistress is wearing no underwear under her velvet skirt, and her cunt is rubbing against the soft fabric with each sway of JJ carrying her. Mistress is soaking wet, and her lips are glistening with juices. The insides of her legs are glistening with sweet secretions. JJ tries to nuzzle his face into Mistress’ skirt to taste the juice. Mistress laughs and pets JJ’s hair, opening her legs slightly and letting his tongue slide between her creamy legs. JJ has an incredible tongue, sensitive and insistent.

The first race begins, and JJ is excited. His cock is hard and standing straight ahead, red and full. One of the ladies fires the pistol, and off they are around the track. JJ gallops quickly, but he is beat out by one of the other ponies. Still, he comes in second, and Mistress is pleased. She brings him to her breast and lets him nuzzle, lapping at her tit tops.

Next is a jump, and JJ takes this on with abandon. He is able to leap better than any of the other ponies, and easily finishes with the most points. Mistress is thrilled, and this time she lets him lick her cunt as a reward. JJ is heady with winning, and happy to please Mistress.

The next race is carrying the ladies, and JJ is very nervous. The Western riders will have a much easier time of it. But Mistress loves a challenge, so she is riding side saddle. Plus, her dress is so tight, it grips her hips and waist, accentuating her curves. Mistress and JJ have practiced riding at home, but this is the big event. JJ is prancing a little, happy to carry Mistress, but scared to drop her. He knows he is fast, agile, and strong, but Mistress had upped the ante by riding side saddle, especially in such a delicate and sexy dress.

The ponies line up, and one of the ladies’ boys fires the pistol. JJ immediately pulls ahead, racing sure and strong. Mistress holds onto his mane and neck, bent over, showing her tits to everyone around. JJ keeps a steady pace, and soon he crosses the finish line first. Mistress is thrilled. She is ready to reward JJ by allowing her to lap her pussy. JJ takes her to a plush chair to recline. Mistress dismounts. She slips easily into the chair. Mistress is small and delicate, but curvy and sexy. Mistress pulls her skirt to one side. JJ plunges into her loins, licking her cunt with abandon. Mistress begins grinding her labia onto JJ’s face, riding his nose with her clit. Mistress cums over and over, juices spilling onto JJ’s tongue. JJ is happy to pleasure Mistress. This is what he lives for. After Mistress has cum for close to an hour, the ladies watching JJ pleasure her, she pulls his face to her tits so he can lap the milky whiteness there. Her nipples slide up over the lace, and JJ sucks them with as much enthusiasm as he licked her cunt.

The other ladies are lounging and resting as well, their boys attending to their needs. JJ is rock solid hard, and his beautiful cock is rubbing on Mistress’ creamy thighs. Mistress starts to stroke JJ a little, teasing and pleasing him. But JJ is so stimmed that he can’t hold back. He starts to squirt cum into her hand, bucking and grinding. Mistress is very displeased. She tells JJ she will have to discipline him.

Mistress rises from the chair, juices running down her thighs. She licks the jism in her hand. Mistress loves the taste of JJ’s cum. But she is angry that he came without permission. Mistress speaks sternly to JJ, loud enough for the ladies to hear, but softly enough for JJ to know this is not all for show. She tells JJ to turn his ass toward the ladies. JJ tries to squirm away. Mistress grabs hold of his bridle, and pulls him so his ass is towards the ladies. The ladies all bring their attention to this. They love to see JJ disciplined. He always gets hard, and his cock is magnificent. They love to see him sucked, sometimes by Mistress if she is feeling generous, and sometimes by one of the other pets. Usually Mistress lets JJ be suckled by a female pet, but occasionally, if she really wants to humiliate him, she has one of the boys suckle him. JJ can’t help but respond to fellatio, but he is always embarrassed when he shoots his wad into a boy’s mouth.

So Mistress begins to discipline JJ. She takes the crop and starts to stroke his ass with the whip. She starts to pat him on the ass lightly. Then she really begins to swing. She starts swatting him over and over, leaving red welts on his ass. Each time she lands a hard swat, she reaches under with her free hand and strokes him. When she brushes the crop lightly across his ass and sacrum, she pets his face. JJ is so aroused, that he is probably going to cum again. Mistress reminds him that if he does cum, he will have to be suckled by one of the boys in front of the ladies.

The flogging continues. Mistress mixes it up. She strokes, swats, tickles, slams, and pets JJ. Soon JJ is so hard, it looks like his cock might split open on its own. One of the ladies asks if she can taste his cum. Mistress is angry that this lady would want to interfere, then decides this might make it even harder for JJ to keep from cumming. She has Lady Sweet lie on the ground under JJ. JJ’s prick is pointing into Lady Sweet’s mouth. Lady Sweet has her legs spread wide, stroking her own cunt as she sucks JJ. JJ’s ass is in the air. Each time Mistress hits JJ, he lunges forward, and his cock is swallowed by Lady Sweet. Lady Sweet is ooing and ahhing, enjoying the feel of JJ’s huge dick in her mouth, and the taste of his pre-cum slipping out his slit. Mistress reminds him not to cum until she instructs him to. JJ wants to cum so badly, whether to shoot his spunk into Lady Sweet’s waiting lips, or to shoot it into Mistress’ waiting twat. Mistress wants his jism in her twat, and knows if she pushes him to hard, he will spill his seed in Lady Sweet and she will have to wait a little while to get hers. Lady Sweet starts sucking JJ’s cock with abandon, and soon JJ is shooting that delicious juice into her mouth. She strokes her pussy hard and fast, making herself cum as JJ fills her mouth. Then she slips her fingers into JJ’s mouth for him to taste.

JJ feels embarrassed. He has lost control. He hasn’t pleased Mistress with his cock. And he longs for her cunt to wrap around his still hard dick. Mistress commends JJ for a good day at the races. She praises him for finishing so well in the events. She chastises him for not fucking her. She strokes his pretty face and neck, his strong back, and his sore ass and balls.

JJ nuzzles against Mistress, trying to get his mouth onto her pussy. Mistress resists at first, then lets JJ lick her cunt. She is standing with her legs apart, JJ’s face upturned into her waiting labia. Soon all the ladies are coupling with their pets or each other, and Mistress leads JJ by the reins to a field. There she lays JJ on his back, hard cock pointed skyward. She tells JJ she is going to reward him for such a fun day at the races. Mistress positions herself over JJ’s stiff cock, whispering how she has waited all day to feel his manhood stretch her tight little pussy open. She lowers herself just a little, brushing against the tip of his cock with her lips. JJ starts to buck. Mistress reminds JJ that if he acts badly, she will not let him fuck her. JJ settles back. Mistress starts to slide down onto the beautiful rock solid dick. She takes in the head, letting is split her tight lips apart. JJ starts bucking, but again Mistress reminds him to slow down and let her be in charge of the ride. Mistress slides down a little further, juices sliding down his shaft, spilling from her cunt. Slowly and surely, Mistress takes in all of JJ’s huge prick. She feels him filling her up to the hilt. She feels his swelling inside her tight pussy. Mistress whispers sweet nothings into JJ’s ear. She tells him how strong and handsome he is. She tells him how all the ladies want him for their own. She tells him how proud she is of his willingness to submit. She tells him how he is trly the prize stud at the event. Soon Mistress starts to cum, her cunt clutching JJ’s manhood. She starts to buck him furiously, taking all of him in fast and furious. She twists her fingers in his mane. She kisses his sweet eyes. Then JJ starts to cum as well. He starts bucking back frantically, trying to sink his huge dick into the recesses of Mistress’ cunt. Their pace slows, and soon they are lying in each others’ arms, kissing and nuzzling each other. Mistress has had a wonderful day, and JJ has as well. Mistress can’t wait to play games with JJ again.

The End

“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, “is a very common failing I believe.”

Mary Hadley, a thirty three year old brunette was sitting on the sofa in her aunt’s front parlour at the time, waiting for her husband to return from taking their oldest daughter, Angela to boarding school.

“Was Angela too prideful to remain in day school, then?” Jane responded, looking up at her niece through steely grey pupils.

“No, you know that John and I need some time alone.”

“Does Angela know?” Jane queried, scrutinising Mary carefully, taking in the dark midi length skirt, the prim blouse, the conservative black stockings and those terribly boring, sensible shoes.

“John will explain it all to her.” Mary said thinking how John was so much better than Mary at explaining things. It was a no-brainer, him taking Angela to the school. He would explain it all in the car.

Mary was sure that John could make boarding school sound like heaven to their eleven year old daughter. She hoped he would be discrete. In actual fact Mary’s nerves could not take any more of the girl’s clumsy ways and she was more than happy to follow the family tradition of boarding schools.

John had been far more reluctant, but Mary would brook no argument. Angela was going and that was all there was to it. Mary wanted another child and Angela was simply in the way. She was ready and John had just had the most enormous pay rise, so that they could afford both the boarding school fees and re-equipping the nursery.

It had been very good of Jane to put them all up while the house was redone, particularly so, since Jane lived so much closer to the school than Mary. The visit had provided a wonderful cover, as Angela loved her Auntie Jane dearly and always really enjoyed any stay at Primrose Cottage.

And after another two weeks of hot sex with John, Mary was bound to be back to that wonderful state of motherhood she had felt when carrying Angela.

“Will he really?” Aunt Jane replied, putting down her knitting and gazing across at the young mother quite sharply. “I see. Now do tell me more about pride.”

“By all I have ever read, I am convinced that pride is very common indeed and that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of complacency on the score of some quality or other.”

“And what comes after pride?” Jane queried, already feeling slightly irritated by her garrulous niece, but maintaining a neutral tone.

“A fall, I suppose.”

“Are you proud of your discourse?”

“I am pleased to have set down my opinion.”

“Do you have lots of other qualities to entertain me and my little circle with?” Aunt Jane added dangerously.

“I have lots of other qualities,” Mary beamed innocently. “It comes with the prospect of motherhood.”

Mary looked towards the window. She could see that the first Dog Roses were flowering in the hedge, although the petals were still furled and pink. She thought about how she used to play in the back garden here as a child. In early June the Spotted Orchids would be starting to appear on the boggy ground before you reached the open fields that backed onto the cottage garden. And, she recalled, over the back hedge in the short turf, a white foam of Heath Bedstraw would be joining the lilac spikes of Heath Speedwell.

And, yes, down by the stream, where livestock would have churned a patch of red clay to exactly the right consistency by now, half a dozen swallows would be circling, landing, taking up beakfuls of clay to build their nests, getting ready for motherhood.

“You are quite a vain creature, aren’t you?”

Jane’s rather abrupt and sardonic comment brought Mary out of her reverie.

“No I am proud of who I am. Vanity and pride are very different things, though the words are often used synonymously.”


“Yes. A person may be proud without being vain.”

“Are you proud without being vain?”

“I try to be. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.”

“And what should I think of you?”

“I would like to think you were proud of your niece as she considers adding to her family.”

“So those of us not blessed with your rutting abilities are devoid of this sense of pride?”

“I didn’t say that, Jane.”

“No. I said it. And do please remember who you are talking to.”

“Why do you insist on this ridiculous notion of being my “Aunt Jane”? You are only three years older than me.”

“Am I not your aunt?”

“You are.”

“Is my name not Jane?”

“It is.”

“Then logic dictates that I am your Aunt Jane, does it not?”

“I suppose it does.”

“Then kindly employ a little common sense and do try to please your hostess,” Jane snapped. “It is good manners after all; and I believe you pride yourself in those.”

“I do.”

“Well then?”

There was a pause while Mary considered whether to make this concession. Jane stared at her niece fixedly as the younger woman put her tea cup down and clasped her hands in her lap. Jane could see that Mary was stealing herself to make this little surrender and smiled encouragingly.

“Sorry… Aunt Jane.”

“That’s much better, Molly. Now where were we?”

“Molly — what do you mean ‘Molly’?”

“That was always my pet name for you; don’t you remember?”

“I remember it only too well,” Mary shuddered, recalling the sharp sound of Jane’s voice summoning her to the study that Mary’s father had vacated for the student some fifteen years before: the study that had become Jane’s little playground and Mary’s version of teenage hell, after Jane caught her necking and more with John late one night.

“Well, you will always be Molly to me.”

“I would prefer it if you used my proper name.”

“Molly is a very proper name. Your step father loved it. What did Robert used to call you — Millie- Molly-Mandy?”

Mary shuddered again.

“I always thought your step father to be a perfect gentleman — so discrete in taking his pleasures. And he did leave me this lovely cottage. I never understood how you could dislike Robert so.”

“He was a wicked, wicked man,” Mary practically exploded in her anger. “I was so glad when John took me away and married me abroad away from the whole pack of you.”

“You broke your mother’s heart.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“And yet, you succeeded admirably.”

Mary dabbed at her eyes, feeling tearful. She hated herself for what she had done and yet she had had to get away. It wasn’t her fault.

“I was very sorry that you were cut out of the will as a result of your acting so in haste, but naughty girls who run away have to take the consequences.”

“I am pleased you got the cottage, Aunt Jane. John has enough for us.”

“Your grimace when you say that betrays your lie.”

“I didn’t mean to cause any offense, Aunt Jane.”

“I’m afraid my friends are very sensitive to falsehoods such as that, Molly, especially when they come from naughty little girls like you.”

“I am not a naughty little girl,” said Mary blushing furiously. “I am a married woman and a mother.”

“And a very naughty girl too, at least that’s what I’ve heard your husband say.”

“When on earth did he say that?”

“It was last night just as you got into bed, I believe.”

“Have you been spying on us?”

“No, but the walls in this house are very thin; and your naughty giggle does rather carry.”

“How dare you!” Mary almost shouted at her aunt and got up from the sofa glowering, arms akimbo, preparing to storm out of the room.

“I was trying to read a chapter of Charles de Montesquieu’s Spirit of Laws at the time. I found your noisy sex play most irritating.”

Mary blushed.

“I could not help but agree with Monsieur Charles when he wrote: ‘It would be a very happy thing in an aristocracy if the people, in some measure, could be raised from their state of annihilation’, having to put up with your amoral annihilation in the background.”

“I am sorry Aunt Jane.”

“I should think so too; but sorry is really not enough. I will certainly have to do something about it, before you are too much older. I should never have allowed that wretched man to kiss your neck, all those years ago.”

“It was a jolly good kiss; and he is a splendid lover not a wretched man.”

“He is certainly a noisy lover,” Jane commented dryly.

Mary hid her face in her hands, growing tearful at the shame of Jane’s onslaught.

“And I do believe he reiterated his insinuations about your naughtiness as he reached his climax, did he not?”

Mary nodded her head dumbly, but said nothing.

“I do sometimes wonder at your hypocrisy, young lady,” Jane continued, looking up briefly at her niece and then back to her pattern book to check the count for her next row.

“My hypocrisy?”

“Naughty by night and aspirant Madonna by day — how do you sustain such breathless double standards.”

“Everybody is entitled to their privacy.”

“Every adult may be.”

“I am an adult. I am thirty three.”

“So you are dear; so you are: thirty three and still having the same tantrums, as when you were eighteen.”

“You provoke me so, auntie.”

“You always were tantrum prone. I remember having to take stern action when I lived with your family before going to college.”

Mary remembered it too. She remembered the way Jane used to reduce her to tears with her whiplash words and worse. Jane had made Mary’s eighteenth year quite miserable at times by treating her like a juvenile delinquent. Mary could recall Jane shouting up the stairs and ordering her down to the study evening after evening and the worst days when Mary refused and Jane would send her step-father, Robert up to fetch her.

She remembered the harsh lectures and the slow clearing of the desk. She recalled the bending and the hiking of her skirts. She recollected the way she was sometimes compelled to choose the instrument of chastisement that Jane would use on her naughty little ‘bot-bot’. And all those memories excited her terribly!

“My cross little niece — you haven’t learnt have you, Molly, my sweetheart?”

“Perhaps not, Aunt Jane,” Mary conceded, smiling despite herself at the endearment.

“Now come over here and sit on the footstool. I would like you to help me wind my wool just like you used to.”

“Yes, auntie.”

“That’s a good girl. We can let the adults have the nice chairs when they come round to tea later.”

“The adults?”

“Yes. My friends: Megan Richards and Freda de Las Casas.”

“Oh no; why didn’t you tell me you were inviting them?”

“Because, Molly; naughty little girls are not generally consulted when auntie makes her arrangements for jolly soirees with her friends. Are they?”

“I’m not naughty.”

“I have already given you three proofs of your naughtiness and yet you persist. You are a very stubborn, naughty little girl, Molly.”

“I am not so.”

“Mrs. Richards and Senora de Las Casas might provide a fourth proof and more.”

“Megs and Freddie…” Mary paused seeing the stern look her aunt was giving her. She quailed inside: “Mrs. Richards and the Senora would say anything you asked of them.”

“Given Mrs. Richards was your sixth form teacher when you were the most mischievous girl in class and the Senorita the midwife who sorted you out when you failed singularly to take precautions prior to your flight to Gretna Green, I feel a certain amount of respect is due to them, Molly.”

“It’s been years since I saw either of them,” Mary retorted petulantly.

“I doubt if they’ve forgotten your extremely bad behaviour then. Your mother, bless her soul, let you get away with murder.”

“And sent me away to boarding school for years and years,” Mary grumbled

“As you presumably plan to do with Angela?”

Mary was speechless, caught bang to rights.

“Why do you think you were sent away? Or do you think it was just coincidence?”

“I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Petulant and thoughtless: I see the school did not serve you as well as your mother hoped.”

“I’m not thoughtless. Stop taking my words out of context, auntie.”

“I’m proving a point to you, Molly.”

“And what point is that?”

“That you are a very naughty little girl.”

“If you say so, auntie,” Mary sighed, giving in again. Mary was quite amazed at the discomposure her aunt’s repeated insinuations still caused her; but amongst other causes of disquiet, she dreaded the way that Jane seemed to be taking control of Mary’s life again. What had she meant by doing something about John? Oh why hadn’t she told him to be quieter and why was she, herself, so commonly anxious to please her mother’s youngest sister.

“When you were invited here, what did you expect?”

“I don’t know what you mean, auntie?”

“Besides using this as a packing off post for Angela on the way to that wretched boarding school — and she will have bad memories of this house and my apparent betrayal because of that — yes you may well blush, Molly; I do know you intended to use the back bedroom for your uxorious pleasures, and it really was too bad when you faulted my arrangements and moved Angela out of there and yourselves in there.”

“But you gave John and me the little children’s bedrooms.”

“That is because you are both little children, Molly; and you do have shown this by your disrespect at my carefully ordered arrangements, resulting in my having a sleepless night as you seemed to wish to copulate through to dawn.”

“I can’t help loving my husband.”

“I can’t help wishing your love was a little more discrete. Take your step-father for instance…”


“That was your loss. I took him and he was wonderful. Robert had me over that very sofa you are sitting on.”

“Ugh!” Mary stood up and looked at the sofa with distaste.

“Sit down and don’t make a scene.”

“I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t try to shock me so.”

“You are far less easily shocked than you would have me believe, child.”

“Even so…”

“Even so, I believe that your step daddy was all excited by the way I had caned you for the first time. Do you remember?”

“I do remember you caning me,” Mary said frostily.

“And you deserved it. All that secretive kissing with John in the field — as if you were grazing cattle: such utterly shameless bovine behaviour.” “And you being fucked over the sofa by your sister’s husband is better?”

“Such naughty language: I may have to wash your mouth out with soap for that later Millie Molly Mandy.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t test me child. You know better than that. And you know that I had to cane you very hard to excite him. In fact I had to use far more force than I would have wished just to make sure your step-daddy needed to have his willy feel nice.”

“No wonder he was so eager to drag me from my room for you to brutalise.”

“You loved every moment of it, Molly: from the first command to strip to letting your warm cunny come in your auntie’s cupped hand like a good little girl. And your step father loved watching his little Millie Molly being introduced to Sapphic pleasure.”

“How could you!”

“I think you enjoyed it most of all when Auntie used to take her panties off and put them in your mouth so that your mummy wouldn’t hear just how her naughty little girl was being punished.” Mary blushed again and started to tear up.

“I very reasonably hoped to have all my expectations of pleasure realised, having ascertained that your dear darling step-daddy was a lusting oaf who craved his little Millie Molly,” Jane continued relentlessly.

“I can’t bear this.”

“And yet you seem eager to hear more, Molly. Does it excite your naughty girly place?”

“Yes, auntie.”

“Does it make your cunny-wunny all dampy-wampy?”

“Yes, it does.”

“And does Molly like auntie making her pussy-wussy all moisty-woisty?”

“Oh auntie! Can your little girl come?”

“Don’t be so nasty, young lady. A scheme in which every part promises delight can never be successful.”

“But Auntie Jane…”

“General disappointment will only be warded off by the defence of some little peculiar vexation.”

“Are you vexed now, Auntie Jane?” Asked Mary, looking rather perplexed at Jane’s decision to hold her there, little realising that by accepting the restraint she was allowing herself to be seduced into obedience. But, as Mary looked towards Jane, who was now engaged with the complicated knitting pattern again, she began to suspect that every power of pleasing would fail her, real or imaginary, when it came to Jane’s insidious demands.

“I was certainly vexed last night with your rather exaggerated propensity for little Johnnie’s willy. Do you think it would make his willy hard to see you being spanked by Auntie Jane? What would you say to him? Tell auntie all about it.”

“I’d say ‘is your willy hard now, John’,” Mary said quietly looking down at her shoes guiltily, embarrassed to the hilt.

“Whose willy, Molly?”

“Johnnie’s willy, auntie.”

“See, you can be a good little girl, but do look at the wool. I don’t want it getting all twisted. Tell me all about Johnnie’s little willy.”

“It’s not little.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“You are not going to see my husband’s willy.”

“Such a selfish girl!”

“I’m not selfish. He’s my husband.”

“He’s my guest — my disobedient guest too. A naughty little boy who deserves to have Auntie Jane pull his pyjama trousers down and to be taken over auntie’s lap.”

“You wouldn’t… would you?” Mary looked up at her aunt tremulously, already knowing the answer.

“What would you do to stop me, Molly?” Jane countered. “I think you are finding this very arousing.”

“I am not so.”

“Pull your skirt up and show me that your panties aren’t damp then. If you do it nicely Auntie Jane will let you put your hands in your panties while she tells you a very naughty story.”

“A very naughty story. auntie?”

“Yes. One to entertain us both while I knit the sleeve of nice cardigan; And I know you like your bedtime stories, Molly.”

“I’m not going to bed, Aunt Jane.”

“Little girls need their afternoon naps.”

“But, I don’t want to go to bed.”

“I’ll bring Mrs. Richards up to see you after tea. She may even bring her nice big toy willy for you to play with and so you can make her feel nice, just like she did when you were an innocent sixth former. Little Johnnie would love to hear that story I’m sure. It might even make his little cocky big and hard for auntie to play with.”

“You wouldn’t!” Mary blanched.

“You do remember don’t you, Molly? Would auntie telling that story get you into terrible trouble with your dear loving hubby? Would he like to know how his virginal wife-to-be was so especially nice to Mrs. Richard’s nice wet hole, in her lovely sixth form school uniform underneath her teacher’s desk? You know Mrs. Richards used to tell me how nice it felt. She loved the way Hadley Major could be so obedient, slipping her school knickers down and handing them to her teacher for the famous Richards’ collection.”

“Oh my god!”

“Do not blaspheme girl.”

“Sorry auntie.”

“And you know what else Molly?”

“No, auntie.”

“Apparently Mrs. Richards used to love sitting back and spreading her legs after you’d taken her grown-up panties down. She loved watching you bend your head down and blush, before using both your hands to part the sex lips; and, most of all, she loved the way you would press your face against her mound – the smooth skin of your cheek and the hot wet little tongue starting to lick around the sensitive puckered skin surrounding her womanly cunt. Wouldn’t hubby like to know what a naughty little lesbian schoolgirl you were once, Molly Hadley?”

“No, he would not.”

“Your blush gives the lie to that, pet. And I’ll bet he would like to know how your clever little kisses landed on Mrs. Richard’s cunny and how that wicked little tongue entered your teacher with its hot slippery-slappery tip lapping and probing, making all sorts of rude sucky and slurpy noises?”

September 2018
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