Cute Girls

Valerie’s Growth Ch. 02

“This is the second part of the fifth story in the Valerie series. While I attempt to make each story stand on its own, I think it’s getting harder to do the more I write. The previous stories may help you understand past background for the characters. Their names are “Valerie’s Submission”, “Valerie’s Exploration”, “Valerie’s Commitment”, and the two parts of “Valerie’s Initiation”. It is in two parts due to length. The last small portion of this story, interlude 2, briefly describes an act of wonton, gruesome brutality that was alluded to in Growth Pt 1.”

*

Sally woke before Valerie, but had no desire to leave her lover. She rested against her body and took in the sight and sound of the sleeping woman, bound, yet free to be who she really was. The smell of old sex was think in the air, acrid with time. Her hands absentmindedly caressed Valerie’s arms and legs, belly and face. Valerie woke up gently in the arms of a lover, moaning in pleasure.

“Is that Mistress or Sally back there?”

“”Sally this morning. How are you?”

“Relaxed. Horny. Eager for tonight.”

“Me too. Do you have to work?”

“No, I took some personal days.”

“We need to shower. First or second.”

“You go first. I want to lie in my bonds a little longer. They feel… safe.”

“I know what you mean. What are we going to do if we both want to sleep bound?”

“Ask Francine?”

They chuckled at the thought, both thinking that every submissive should live with a dominant.

Sally showered first, changing back into her clothes from the previous night. Valerie followed, grateful that the hot water heater in the apartment had a large capacity. Sally had thrown together some country gravy and was baking some pop and fresh biscuits.

“That smells good. I’ve never been able to make decent biscuits and gravy. If that is as good as it smells, I’ll keep you.”

“So that’s your plan, shack up with a good cook. I see it all now.”

The two ate, the gravy living up to its aromatic promise. Valerie checked her E-mail, finding nothing from work or Master. She tried calling Francine, but there was no answer. Assuming her friend had to go to work, she left a message that she would look at the other houses on their list.

Sally had to get home and change. Her E-mail had a note from Charles with instructions to pick Valerie up and what special steps to take on the way. “Val, I’m supposed to pick you up tonight, so we should probably not spend the day together. Be sure you’re ready and naked by six. Can you drop me off at my place?”

“Sure. I have to go that way anyway to look at one of our potential houses. I have the day off from work, so I’ll be able to get home in plenty of time. What should I be ready for tonight?”

“I can’t say. It will be different in many ways, though there will be some familiar play.”

After dropping Sally off, she took in the other houses and apartment on the list. After the perfect house form yesterday, all these seemed to pale. The one she had first had high hopes for was a disaster. Painted(!) hard wood floors, cracks in the walls, water stains in the basement. She estimated there was at least $200,000 of repairs that needed to be made. They so did not need a money pit.

It was three by the time she had finished the rounds. He took a late lunch, splurging on a grease burger and fries at one of the local burger joints, then headed home to get ready. She took another shower, not that she needed one, and set a selection of toys on the table in case Sally needed any for the trip. It occurred to her that Master could demand that she travel the entire distance unclothed. She shuddered at the thought. “Could I deal with walking down to the street and getting into Sally’s car, naked, except for a collar and cuffs?” The thought was tantalizingly erotic, yet frightening and humiliating.

At quarter to six, she made one last E-mail check before the weekend started. Nothing was there that needed to be dealt with before the weekend was over. The last bit of waiting was almost torture. Valerie had never been very good at the waiting games. The doorbell caused her to practically jump out of her skin (there being nothing else to jump out of). She walked to the door and opened it, seeing Sally standing there, dressed in a delicious leather outfit that looked like it had taken a paint brush and a crowbar to get into. The biker’s jacket was worn loosely over a bustierre that made Sally’s breasts appear to be twice as full as they really were. The pants fit tightly enough that you could tell exactly what wasn’t being worn underneath. Knee high boots with a one inch heel fit snuggly over the pants, zipped up on the sides. The studded collar, her symbol of submission, was a perfect accompaniment to the outfit.

Valerie’s nervousness fled, faced with the ability to be who she was. She knelt and, head bowed, greeted her friend, lover and Mistress, “Mistress, welcome. I hope this humble slave meets with your approval. Is there anything you require of me.”

“Quiet. Remain on your hands and knees. Lead me to your bedroom.”

Valerie crawled on all fours through her apartment to the bedroom. Inside, she turned around and waited for further instructions from her Mistress. Sally followed her slowly, picking up some of the toys that were lying on the table. In the bedroom, she stood in front of Valerie, simply looking down on her. The silent scrutiny weighed on Valerie, a weight that was both pleasant and unnerving. Crouched at the feet of a dominant, waiting for orders or guidance, she was unsure whether she had Sally’s approval. Was something expected of her? Nothing in Sally’s stance gave any indication.

Time passed. After five minutes of perfect silence, Valerie was feeling incredible arousal with no idea why. No words had been spoken, no touch had taken place. She wanted desperately to please her mistress, but could not tell if she had or not. The not knowing increased a feeling of dread, like gravity being turned up. She wanted to plead for reassurance, for a reprimand even, yet she knew she had been told to be quiet.

Fifteen minutes of silence, of no movement from either. Valerie was crying tears without sobs, her heart pulling in multiple directions, wanting to please so badly, yet knowing she was doing what she had been instructed to do. Never before had nothing felt so horrible. Overwhelmed with the need to show her submission in some tangible way, she bent her head to Sally’s boots and kissed them, gently at first, but with increased passion. She covered every inch of the boots with kisses and tears, the action filling a gaping void in her. She would accept any consequence of this unasked for action.

Sally let her kiss the entirety of both boots, smiling at the abject humiliation that Valerie was willing to put herself through. She knew that master was able to see this on the micro-camera fitted into one of the stubs on her collar. Pleased at Valerie’s continued silence, she reached down and grabbed her hair.

Rustling from above her let Valerie know a second before that something was happening. She felt the hand grab her hair and she gasped, not in pain, but in relief at some attention, any attention, being directed her way. Sally bent down, holding the hair and a finger to her lips. “Shhhh. Do you love Master?” Vigorous nodding. “Will you do anything to please him?” More vigorous nodding. Tears flowing freely. “Would you go away if he ordered it?”

Valerie’s mouth opened, silent sobs wracking her body. She didn’t know how to answer. She wanted to be with Master so much and please him. “What if Master could only be pleased by my leaving? Could I do that?” The question tore at her, “What really would I do for him?”

Sally repeated the question softly, “Would you go away if he ordered it?” Valerie’s head was held up, unable to look away from her eyes. Unlike last week, these eyes were not empty, denying access to the heart within. In those eyes Valerie saw love, yes, but even more, confidence, confidence that this submissive would do the right thing, would know how to answer, understanding what that answer meant for her and for Him.

In her mind, it clicked. Her submission was all about pleasing her Master. She had no pleasure if he did not. That’s why true punishment does not arouse. That’s why she knew that the only answer she could give was to nod her head, all the while, sobs wracked her with the knowledge that she would accept such a horrible command.

Sally released her hair, grasped Valerie’s head between both hands gently and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re Master is very pleased with you, more pleased by this gift than in any other you have given him. You’re willingness to accept the worst possible fate to please him is a treasure that He, and I, will treasure. Know that you are NOT being sent away. Instead, your presence before Master is being commanded. Speak your heart, Valerie.”

“Oh God, please hold me. I need to feel you hold me.” Valerie collapsed into Sally’s arms, the tension of the last twenty minutes pouring off of her. “I… want to… please… Him…so bad it… hurts. Even… if it’s… the last… thing… I’m allowed to… do… for him! How do… How do I hold up when I don’t know?”

“Trust Him. Trust that he will tell you when you fail. Sometimes, and this will be hardest on you, I think, what is pleasing to Master is to wait at his feet, accepting his silence as you would accept his caresses and his pain.”

“It was so hard, the waiting, your not acknowledging me. I need… I need to know that I have been pleasing or not. It’s like waiting for the beating to start. It tears me up inside so bad.”

“I know little one. But think on this. One week ago, two minutes of waiting for me to start whipping you was intolerable. Today, you waited fifteen minutes in total silence and still did not speak or beg, but instead humiliated yourself even further. Look at how much you’ve grown! Tell me, what were you feeling when you nodded your head that last time, telling Master that you would leave if ordered to?”

“There was horrible gut wrenching pain. Oppressive sadness. A bittersweet happiness.”

“Yes, the bittersweet happiness, what caused it?”

“Because… I would please him with the last act as his slave.”

“Yes! When I asked you this last week, your answer was about how you would feel to be bereft of Him. Today, your answer included a willingness to obey for his pleasure, in spite of your pain. I think that master would only send away those slaves that would not be hurt by being sent away. Enough of the hard. It’s time to play.”

“Yes Mistress.” Valerie answered with a smile.

“Get dressed. Put on something to show off the slut inside. Be sure some of your punishment shows.”

Valerie, quickly transforming from the devastated slave to the playful sub, went for slut with a capitol S. getting out a one piece bathing suit that she had gotten a little too large to wear comfortably, she squeezed into it. Her pussy and ass were threatening to spill out the sides and her breasts were squeezes tight in the built in breast support. The backless design let a wealth of fading marks show, and of course, her legs were totally uncovered. She knew that any neighbor who saw her would be asking questions later, if not of her, than of every other neighbor. She slipped into the highest heels she had, a mere three inch shoe. She finished her look by clipping her leash to her collar and holding her arms out before her. “Mistress, would you bind me?”

“It would be a pleasure. You realize that we will be walking in public like this?”

“Yes Mistress. It’s frightening, but exciting.”

“I can see the excitement.” Sally commented, looking down at Valerie’s crotch.

Seeing that she had already created a wet spot in the suit, Valerie blushed, mortified at the thought of someone she knew seeing her like this. “What have I done?” she thought to herself.

Sally put the toys she had gathered into her handbag and tugged on the leash, leading Valerie to the door. “You may only speak to a direct question, understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The door opened and they went out. The only good thing about it being Friday after 6 is that most people who were going out, had already done so, or were taking in a late show. Luck was not with Val this night, however (or was it with her). As they stepped from the stairwell to the lobby, a couple was entering, and Valerie knew them. The man, Mel Halk, spoke the question on both their minds as he pulled his cell phone out, ready to dial 911, “Valerie! What is going on?”

An adrenaline surge sparked a memory, a cousin and a game. “Hi Mr. and Mrs. Halk. It’s part of a LARP, live action role playing. We dress up in roles and pretend that’s who we are. It’s kind of fun.”

“Oh. You don’t look like one of the Camerilla.”

“Oh, it’s not Masquerade. It’s a new one.”

“What game?”

Valerie hesitated, not sure what to say. The last thing she had expected was that they would know of LARPs. Sally, quite enjoying the exchange, rescued her. “It’s called ‘Captive of Gor.”

“So you’re the captive, I assume. How long did it take to put those stripes on. The make up work looks fabulous.”

Sally could barely contain the laughter as Valerie smiled and said, “It took over two hours. Very hard work, almost painful. It was nice seeing you.”

The two ladies broke out in riotous laughter once the couple was out of sight. “Yes, great make up job.” “Hard painful work.” “Live action role playing.” “Really intense LARPing.”

The laughter settling to giggles, Sally asked, “Val, where in the world did you hear of LARPs. You don’t strike me as the role playing type.”

“I have a cousin into it, Sal… Mistress. She sends me reports I barely look at regularly, trying to get me interested.”

“Come along ‘Captive of Gor’.”

Sally had parked two blocks away and led Valerie down the sidewalk to it. After the encounter with the Halks, the passing cars were not too hard to handle, cloaked, as they were, in anonymity. In the car, Sally buckled Val in. Looking at her with a mischievous smile, she said, “You do realize I’m going to have to punish you, don’t you?”

Thinking back, she realized, “Oh, I responded to a non-question didn’t I, Mistress. I’m sorry, I should have waited for one.”

“That’s right.” Unbinding her hands, she ordered, “Put you hands behind the seat.” Once there, sally reached back and resnapped the cuffs together. “For disobeying, we will do this.” She reached over and pulled the straps to her suit down, popping Valerie’s breasts out for all to see. “For starting to use my name, we’ll do this.” Valerie’s gag and blindfold came out and were placed on her. “Your safe word signal is to hit your head against the headrest three times. Understand?”

Valerie nodded. Her entire body was turning the most fascinating shade of red, as she realized just what she must look like, bound to the seat, blindfolded, gagged and her breasts showing. Even worse, she had no idea who was seeing her in this humiliation. At every stop, she imagined people looking and pointing at her, calling her a slut and whore from the safety of their own cars. The car felt warmer than it actually was, her own body heat reinforcing the warmth of the night.

With great relief, she heard the grating sound of the gate to Master’s property opening. The car slowly drove up the drive and parked in front of the house. She felt her hands being released and the seatbelt removed by Sally. “Wait here.” Sally’s door opened and then shut. Then her door opened and her collar was pulled, forcing her to get out of the car. Standing, her hands re rebound behind her, the gag removed and the leash was pulled again.

She found it very hard to walk in heels while blind. “Mistress, I’m scared.”

“What is it?”

“I feel like I might fall at any minute. I know there are steps, please don’t let me trip.”

“Would you rather crawl?”

“What ever pleases Mistress. I’m just scared.”

“I understand. Keep walking. Walking. Step. Step. Step. Walking. Walking. Stop.”

Valerie heard the main door open and then the leash tugged. Once inside, she was less frightened, knowing that the only steps would be at the stairs to the basement. She had not realized how dependant she would feel, being led blind. The intensity of feeling was on par with being whipped. Her safety was totally in the hands of her dominant, who could choose to lead her into obstacles or not. She wasn’t sure that she could have trusted anyone but Sally or Charles to lead her at a walking pace through the house.

“Stop.” Valerie heard the sliding doors of the elevator, breathing a sigh of relief that she would not be asked to negotiate the stairs. As the doors opened in the basement, she heard cries of pain and pleasure in the near distance. The others had started without her. Led again, she walked into the dungeon, listening to the sounds of play around her. Someone was being whipped, she could not tell with what. Someone else was being aroused, very aroused. A third person, Steven, was begging for an orgasm. She was stopped again.

Master’s voice brought her heart into her throat. It had been so long since he had communicated with her. “Valerie. Kneel down and remain perfectly quiet and immobile until I address you by name again.”

She knelt and waited. The tension of being ignored once again began to build, as time passed with sounds of pain and pleasure surrounding her. With no frame of reference, she could not tell how long she sat, immobile, not even sure that Master was still beside her. The impetus to DO something to please him grew stronger and stronger. She remembered sally’s words from earlier, “Sometimes, and this will be hardest on you, I think, what is pleasing to Master is to wait at his feet.” This is what he asked of her now, this hardest thing.

“I trust Master,” She told herself. “I will give him what he asked, my silence, my stillness. I will please him.” The pain of the stillness grew, forcing tears out of her eyes. Yet, she held her self, not moving or making a sound. Her determination to obey, to be pleasing giving her the endurance to withstand this very different sort of pain, as it did when she was being whipped.

Only later would she know that she knelt there, tears dripping slowly down her cheeks, for 90 minutes. The sounds of the others faded. She could not tell if there was anyone even present, her own breathing sounding like a hurricane wind in her ears. She could not see all of them, sitting around her watching as she endured pain, that was for her, greater than a whip or crop. When His voice came, her heart leapt for joy.

“Valerie. What would you do now?”

“Master.” Her throat, silent for so long, rasped, “I would so love to please you. Anything, Master, so long as it pleases you.”

“So if I asked you to remain here, silent and still for the rest of the weekend, you would?”

“I would try Master. But it is so hard, I don’t know if I could.”

As he spoke, someone was untying her hands. “I will not ask that hard a thing now, though I may in the future, when you are more able. I have a timer, do you hear it?”

The ticking was almost loud. “Yes Master.”

“I want you to remain still and silent until the timer finishes. When it does, you may remove your blindfold, your clothes and crawl to the lounge where I will be waiting. You will be alone, no one will be here at all. Only you will know it you are successful in this test. If you understand, nod your head.”

“Good. Please me in this.”

She heard several people get up and walk away. Her hands at her side, she knelt, the tears returning, as she felt the loneliness crush in on her again, her only companion the ticking of a kitchen timer. She cried in her head at the pain of being alone, of not having that reassurance from her Master. She clung to Sally’s words, “Sometimes, and this will be hardest on you, I think, what is pleasing to Master is to wait at his feet.” “Sometimes, and this will be hardest on you, I think, what is pleasing to Master is to wait at his feet.” She waited at his feet, her heart crying out for contact, any contact.

This time, his hands at the back of her head were not so sudden, though they were as insistent, but she did not try to fight them now. There was a moment’s fear, it was true, when she first felt them there, however he was still so relaxed beneath her, still so accepting of her touch, that she did not take his intervention as a sign of anger or disapproval. Rather, it was guidance, a teaching she must learn from. He was showing her how better to please him and indeed, she could only be grateful for this, so that she only went with it now when he once again began to push her firmly down.

She hit the gag reflex, of course, her body automatically stiffening up though she tried hard not to let it. Every muscle, every basic instinct tried to get her to pull right back, but she fought to control it, fighting against herself rather than him now and breathing quickly through her nose as she did so. He pushed her through it, as he had known she needed him to do. His dick went right back into her, down her throat and she fought not to gag, fought to keep breathing steadily through her nose, knowing only that this was what he liked, this was what he wanted, and what did it matter if she could not breath then, for it was his pleasure alone which was important now.

Slowly, his fingers sliding into her hair and holding the back of her head tightly, painfully even, he began to pull her back up. She went with him, using her tongue as best she could, swirling it about the head of his dick, using her lips and mouth as much as possible even as he controlled her movements and her pressure. This time, when he pushed her down, he did so hard and quick and she wasn’t ready for it, but she struggled to cope and he pulled her up again as quickly as he had pushed her down. Trying to go with him at first, she instead only made it harder, until she realised the best way was simply to let him have completely control, to let him use her face as he will. His hands were holding painfully hard in the hair at the back of her head, using it to pull her up and push her down, and she choked each time she went down over him, but it was only what she needed, what she deserved. She was to pleasure him and taking all of him in her mouth, her throat, her nose buried in his public hair, for that was what pleased him. If she could not do that herself, then he must show her how, but if she made him have to go to such lengths then pain was only what she deserved.

Faster he moved her now and she knew from his breathing, from the low way he moaned beneath his breath and even from the way he shifted his hips beneath her face, that his climax was not long off. She tried to ready herself for it, to do as he said and swallow all he would give her, to take the life giving fluid of his body and be grateful for his gifts. His hands clutched hard suddenly at the back of her head, gripping her hair with a blinding, flashing pain, and his limbs stiffened. He pushed her then, pushed her head down, far, far down, until her throat was forced to totally engulf his spasming cock.

Warm, sticky cum hit the back of her throat, coated her mouth, and she struggled automatically to try and breath but he held her down hard by that painful, agonising grip, and she could only do what she could to swallow. After the first couple of pumps, he pulled her back some and she could breath easier now as she took his seed in her mouth, swallowing fast, so much of it she could not catch it all and it dripped out from her lips across her face and chin. He seemed to orgasm for so long, his cries muffled through clenched teeth, using her to deposit his load of ejaculate, pulling her head over his dick so it all went in her mouth, or at the least, across her face.

When, finally, he had finished, his muscles relaxing slowly, the vice grip he had on her hair loosening somewhat, she was able to pull back and take her lips from him, gasping hard. She only hovered there for a moment, her face dripping with his cum, holding it by his own wet, sticky dick as she tried to breath. He only let his hands fall back and relaxed, breathing deeply.

“I dared you to swallow every drop, don’t forget,” his words, breathless and satiated, but determined to make her finish, even if he had already received his pleasure. She did not try to argue, she was long beyond fighting him and besides, he had dared her to worship his dick and leaving it in such a state was not faithfully following that instruction.

As she lay there, half sprawled between his legs, her face by his still only partially soft dick, she raised one hand to her face and wiped the cum from her own cheek and chin with her index finger. Then, slowly, she put it in her mouth and licked it clean, going through this process again and again, until she felt all the cum he had sprayed upon her face gone, swallowed, accepted as her reward for pleasuring him so. It did not make her face particularly clean, she still felt sticky across her cheek and chin where the cum had been and nothing less than a shower would change that, but she welcomed that feeling now. Welcomed the feel of the old remains of his cum drying upon her. A reminder she had pleased him, a reward for being able to do so.

She cleaned his dick with her tongue next, licking it gently, removing the ejaculate and the sweat and the saliva and swallowing it all, just as he had instructed her. She did this carefully, going over not just his dick, but right down between his legs, across his balls and all about his groin as well. She made sure she missed none and she took her time to ensure he was clean, knowing that until she had done this, she was not at all finished.

But once she had done it, she knew it was definitely over.

The world came back to her as she finally sat back and away from him. As she pushed herself up to kneel straight, her back and legs protesting from unusual angle in which she had been lying, the back of her head throbbing from where he had gripped and pulled her hair so tight. The world came back to her and she knew they were watching her each with grins on their faces, she knew this had changed things somehow, that the game had gone beyond all they had ever expected and become something else again.

She had survived dare, double-dare even. Survived it, dealt with it, got through it. And she was only very, very glad they could not see inside her head and know just how low she had fallen when she had been sucking his dick, just how totally she had accepted his dominance over her. These secrets she would hide, if she could. They shamed her too much, as much as they made her burn.

Brett clapped as she stood up, a mocking clap, accompanied by laughter. She only moved away, trying to get a grip of her thoughts, trying to wonder how she could let Davy do that to her, make her feel that way, make her want to serve him so totally. The humiliation made her cheeks burn and perhaps she couldn’t hide that, but she could try not to let them know she how confused she was by her own needs. How frightened she was at her own reaction to his brutal dominance, why she liked it when he was so rough and demanding. The dread which came with knowing he was already well aware of exactly what she was like.

“Enjoy that, Elspeth?” Davy challenged as she stood up, but she refused to look at him, refused to answer.

“It’s done. I completed the dare,” she said instead, then wished her voice hadn’t wavered so much. She swallowed, and tasted him.

His chuckle was amused. “You did, very satisfactorily too.”

Suddenly, he pushed himself upwards, standing also. Sometime between her finishing cleaning his dick and his standing now, he had put himself away again, fastened his jeans, hidden that which she had so focussed upon for what seemed a lifetime. She couldn’t help but glance to him, he was taller than her, stronger than her and he was standing far too close now for her liking.

“Yet I asked if you enjoyed it,” he continued once he stood, his voice low. “You didn’t answer me.”

She frowned, realising suddenly this wasn’t over, not at all, and she looked up to find his face malicious, his grin dark indeed. She stepped back at the sight of it, unwittingly so, but there wasn’t much room to move for there was a couch to one side of her and a small table to another.

“And I don’t have to answer,” she snapped at him. “You dared me to pleasure you, you dared me to swallow you. Which I did. You don’t have any further rights over me now, Davy.”

His laughter worried her because it was so confident, because it seemed not to care for the truth or otherwise of that. He stepped towards her again and in unison she stepped back what little she could, but she saw him nod down at Brett as she did so and all of a sudden Brett himself was standing up and right behind her and his arms were suddenly around her body.

She panicked, struggling hard, but Brett trapped her arms and took hold of her shoulders and it didn’t matter how much she fought or cursed or pleaded, he was stronger than her. They were both stronger than her and how was she supposed to fight two of them at once when either one could easily overpower her alone? Still she tried, fear and desperation driving her on, but Brett held her firm from behind and Davy only approached from in front and she felt a terror suddenly at her own helplessness, tears pricking her eyes.

“Stop it. Fuck you, fuck you, stop it,” she tried to swear at them and when that didn’t work, she turned to pleading. “Please, Davy, don’t do this. Please… for fuck’s sake, I’m begging you. You want me to beg? Then I’m doing it, just don’t do this…”

It wasn’t much of an attempt at begging, she was too confused between her anger and her fear, but he only grinned anyway and Brett simply laughed by her ear. Davy came to a still so close in front of her she was all but sandwiched between them and she flinched and tried to pull away from him, but Brett held her solid and there was no where for her to go, nowhere to run. With that same knowing grin, Davy just reached down and gathered up the hem of her skirt in his hand.

“I just want to find out if you enjoyed it, Elspeth,” he told her, all but innocently. “Just getting the necessary proof, you understand.”

“Don’t, please… this was not part of the dare…” she tried desperately, but it wasn’t going to do any good.

“A minor detail,” he grinned, enjoying himself and her fear, his expression mocking indeed. “Oh, no need to panic, sweetheart, no need to struggle. Fighting only makes it worse, you know that.”

Nonetheless, she swore at him again and struggled hard still, but he only bunched up her skirts and raised them quickly and before she could even try to argue with him, he had his hand under her dress and inside her pants and quickly, suddenly, hard up inside of her, too.

She cried out as his fingers entered her so quickly, so hard and rough. He only laughed, drew them out a little and then shoved them back in once again, three of them, as hard as he could make it, so that her body bucked against him with a real cry of pain. She could not struggle now, she was helpless against them. Brett held her firm and Davy leant against the front of her, his hand up hard inside her, moving his fingers so that she squirmed and tried to plead with him not to.

“I knew it. You’re dripping wet for me, slut,” he sneered at her, shoving his fingers again hard inside of her, so that she gulped in pain even as she knew what he said was so very true, she could not deny it. “You fucking loved every minute of it.”

She clenched her eyes shut and nodded, not wanting to see his face as she made this admission, a confession she could not avoid. She had loved it, she had loved him ordering her, demanding her obedience, commanding her every move. He had told her to worship his dick and so she had, it had been the focus of her world, his pleasure the only important thing. As if he really were her one and true god and she had cowered before him, frightened and in awe of his power, desperate only to please him. How could he do that to her? How could she let him?

“Say it. I want to hear you say it,” he demanded, his voice hard. “Open your eyes, look me in the face and say it.”

She could not help it, her eyes flickered open, but she tried to shake her head, she really did. “Davy, please…” she tried desperately, but he only twisted his fingers inside of her and she lost the words of protest in a half moan of desperate pleasure and half a cry of pain rolled into one.

“Don’t you dare fight me. You’re standing there squirming on my hand, you’re in no position to call the shots,” he declared darkly.

She sagged in Brett’s arms, her eyes glazed and her head lolling back against him as Davy’s hand moved inside of her. Even now it felt so fucking good.

“I loved it,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from desire and confusion. “I loved worshipping your dick. I loved grovelling at your feet, licking you clean, obeying your word. I loved it all…”

His hand slipped from her, her skirts fell back into place. Brett’s arms around her began to loosen, but she was not struggling now. Not anymore. Davy only grinned, triumph written right throughout his expression as he brought his hand up to her face and held his fingers, sticky and covered in her own juices, right by her mouth. She knew what he wanted her to do and even though Brett’s hold on her was loose and easily shrugged off now, even though now she could have fought them away, she did not. Instead she just did as he required and took his fingers into her mouth.

She tasted herself upon his skin, using her tongue and lips and slowly licking his hand clean, taking her time to ensure she missed nothing and sucking gently upon each of his fingers in turn. As she did so, she looked him straight in the eyes and she did not look away. She kept his stare and she held it, even in the face of his possessive, dangerous, triumphant smile.

When she was done, when he pulled his fingers from her mouth, cleaned, and wiped them dry upon her own blouse, she returned his smile with a sly one of her own.

“But I still fully completed my dare and you still have no further rights over me, Davy Parker,” she told him then and suddenly pulled roughly out of Brett’s hold, stepping from them to stand on her own, but at the same time refusing to back right away.

Davy’s face fell in shock. He had not expected that, not expected she would exert some self control now and indeed, he probably was well aware what it cost her to do so when everything he had said was only truth. She was burning for him, her underpants were soaked with her need for him, but she would not let him take her that easily, he was going to have to work for it. Besides, if there was one thing she knew by now, it was that Davy knew well how to play the game.

Completing their little triangle, Brett began to laugh. She grinned at him, then only waited for Davy to respond to what was clearly her challenge. His expression grew angry. She had known he wasn’t going to let a challenge like that go by unheeded, that it wouldn’t take much for her to metaphorically throw down the glove and be sure he would snatch it back up again. It was the reason she pushed him so hard to begin with.

He quickly turned, snatched the cap with the bits of screwed up paper up from the ground where it still lay and held it out to her.

“Then choose, Elspeth. Choose and we’ll see who can demand rights and who must simply obey,” he snapped at her. She smiled, quite sweetly, and shook her head.

“Nup. Not my turn,” she told him. Brett laughed even harder. Davy swore. He wanted her, he wanted her at his feet, begging him for release, for mercy, for simply the chance to please him, just so long as she was there and she was hanging on his every command. But there were rules to this game and she used them now to her own advantage and the fact was, she had just completed her turn. It was Brett’s now and then it would be Davy’s again before once more it passed to her. What’s more, when it came to her again it would not longer be Davy’s turn to choose, either. It would be Brett’s.

Which meant that, just as she had suspected, Brett would play the deciding hand in this little game of theirs. And from the smile on his face, he knew it too.

It was Brett who took the cap from Davy’s clenched fist, who smiled as he reached inside it and took out one small bit of paper. She didn’t trust him, of course. Brett would go whichever way suited him best, whichever way offered him the most rewards and he was as dominant sexually as Davy was, a fact which definitely did not bode well for her. And yet he wanted Davy almost as badly as she did, heterosexual Davy always so uncomfortable with his friend’s homosexuality. He was never going to get him of course, Davy would never let it get that far, but if Brett had her on his side then he might manage a little something. She hoped he would see it that way, anyway. It was the only thing in her favour at this point.

Brett laughed when he read what was on that paper. “Promise,” he grinned at them, holding it out as proof.

She glanced at it, unsure how this would affect the flow of events. It was still Davy’s choice at this point and previously she would have expected him to use this chance for some kind of revenge. Brett had treated him pretty hard over the course of their game, doing all he could to find ways of extracting his pleasures from the very unwilling Davy. It was Brett who had forced him to wear the anal plug which still remained inside of him now; it was Brett who had felt him up, who had insisted on doing so even when it had technically been outside the boundaries of the game. Yet going for revenge now would not suit Davy’s purposes and if nothing else, Davy was always prepared to do whatever necessary to get what he really wanted.

Davy had one choice, one promise he could ask of Brett, and then it was all out of his hands. Following this, he himself would have to choose from the hat and then he would have to submit to Brett’s choice in response to that. Then it would fall on her once again, but Brett would be deciding for her as well, Davy wouldn’t even get a look in. So this was it, this was his last chance. He breathed deeply, watching Brett and thinking through his options.

“Promise me you’ll side with me against her.”

At first, she didn’t think she’d heard him correctly. She had been expecting a kind of subtlety from him, a sly ploy perhaps, or an insidious manipulation, anything but this blunt, brutal honesty. Now she could only stare, unable to believe even he had gone this far. It pushed the boundaries of their game so much that it was coming damn close to breaking it completely. Indeed, this was so far outside of the rules that he surely couldn’t hope to get away with it. Alliances were made and broken with each round, that was how the game was played, but this would shift the balance of power so greatly and so permanently that there could be no game after this, not if he got away with it. Not if Brett let him.

She turned quickly the moment she realised it was not Davy who would decide this, but Brett himself. She found him frowning, obviously uncertain how best to handle this development, not to mention deal with the sheer intensity in Davy’s voice.

“I don’t know if this is right, Davy,” he began with a frown. “That’s not a promise which has anything to do with me and everything to do with Elspeth. I don’t think that’s really within the game…”

“You pulled out promise, I’ve asked for the promise I want,” Davy shot back, determined and sticking to his choice.

“Yeah, but it’s meant to be something involving me, not her. It’s not really fair, is it?”

Brett’s voice sounded reasoned, logical even. He did not, however, sound like he was overly horrified by Davy’s demands for his promise. Her initial certainty that Brett would deny Davy this because it was outside the rules of the game began to fade rather dreadfully. He sounded merely undecided, as if he could be persuaded either way by a good argument. Or a good bribe.

“No. No, he can’t do this. Don’t let him do it,” she finally found her voice. “Tell him, Brett. Tell him that’s outside the rules. He can’t use your promise to entrap me.”

But Brett only held up one hand to forestall her. “Stay out of it, Elsepth. You can’t influence this,” he told her and he sounded just as reasoned and logical as when he told Davy his promise wasn’t fair. “This is between Davy and I. My promise, his choice.”

Davy never once took his eyes off Brett. “What do you want to sway your decision in my favour?”

“No!” she couldn’t help but burst out, desperate, but it didn’t matter, neither of them were paying her the slightest attention now. This was her last hope and Davy had just set about destroying it. He was prepared to bargain for what he wanted and she knew Brett would take that chance to get whatever he could. He’d negotiate a deal to suit himself, but she’d be the one who would end up paying the real price of it. So she tried to protest, she tried to demand her fair rights within the game, but they just ignored her and she knew then that it truly was too late. That it had been too late from the first moment Davy had indicated he was willing to strike a deal.

Brett’s sudden smile was broad indeed. “Davy, you really know how to push it, don’t you?” he said, laughing at the other’s audacity. “That is so not within the rules of the game.”

Davy nodded slowly. Yes he was pushing it. Yes he was breaking all the rules. Knowingly, deliberately, openly, just so he could get what he wanted, which in the end was no more than either of them would have expected from him. It was clear now that Brett was no longer objecting, that he merely found amusing the lengths to which Davy was prepared to go and was more than willing to negotiate. After all, Brett had no interest in her, not sexually. His interest was in men. In this room, his interest was in Davy. Davy, who Brett wanted so badly, and who needed Brett to get what he himself wanted. Her.

For the moment, Davy said nothing, just held the other man’s amused, expectant stare and took his time to consider his next best move. He had to be careful here, he hadn’t won yet. If he offered too little, it would leave the way open for her to bargain with Brett herself and she found herself clutching her fists anxiously, waiting to hear what he would say. Eventually, he just took a deep breath, accompanied by half a nod to himself. As if he had just reached a long, hard decision of his own.

“A night with me,” he offered suddenly and he sounded very sure.

There was utter silence. Even she stopped trying to protest. Brett’s smile dropped, he could only stare, unable to believe Davy had just said that. Indeed, she could hardly believe it herself. Only Davy looked certain, Davy who had always refused even just to let Brett tell him what attracted him about other men, who ran from any detail of what gay sex might actually involve.

She knew simply from the stunned look on Brett’s face that he had never imagined this, not even when Davy had first suggested he might be prepared to buy Brett’s decision, be willing to negotiate the price. Brett had obviously had a few hopes as to what he might try to get out of such a negotiation, perhaps extract a few favours from his very heterosexual friend, but this… Davy’s sudden offer went far, far further than either of them had ever thought Davy could be willing to go.

And with his offer went her last chance of gaining Brett’s support herself. The only hope she had, the only offer she could have made to Brett, was her support in ganging up on Davy. Now Davy had just given Brett all he had ever wanted and negated anything she could ever possibly have offered him.

“Davy, do you know what you are saying?” Brett asked him after a moment, his voice hoarse, strained. Davy only nodded quite calmly.

“Yes. I’m offering you a night with me, if you’ll agree to my promise,” he said. “It’s not within the rules of the game, but I figure if there’s enough in it for you, you’ll be happy to bend the rules a little. So this is what I offer you.” He paused, opening his arms a little. “Me.”

Brett swallowed hard and his eyes flickered downwards along Davy’s body, his breathing becoming unconsciously more ragged as he did so. There was real desire in his face, real need in his expression as his eyes unwittingly travelled over Davy’s form, from his ankles to his shoulders and lingering long on that place between his legs which had even now begun to swell again. He was being offered something here which he’d long wished for, but had always known was impossible, and his gaze reflected the desperate hunger he’d kept tightly reigned in for such a long, long time.

Only after a long moment was he able to force his eyes back up, quickly shifting now as if he hadn’t even realised he was looking so nakedly, checking out his friend so obviously. Davy only stood there and let him look.

“Jesus, Davy. I have wanted you for so long,” Brett admitted roughly. “But you’re so fucking heterosexual.”

“Well now you have the chance to have me, willing and compliant,” Davy sounded very sure. “You want me. I want Elspeth. We each get what we want.”

“Yeah, well what about me?” she couldn’t help but interrupt at that.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” Davy shot back at her, without even turning to look at her. “You’ll get what you’re given and you’ll like it.”

“Fuck you,” was all she returned to that, turning desperately to Brett. “He’s manipulating you, Brett. You can’t let him, you can’t…”

Brett suddenly grinned, even as she spoke. “Shut up, Elspeth. Be a good girl and do as Davy says now.”

His words cut over the top of her own and silenced her as effectively as Davy’s dick in her mouth ever could. Her mouth closed sharply, an unconscious reaction she could not help, though she cursed herself for the unwitting obedience to their orders and promised herself that her fears were not true, he did not have her yet. And yet what could she do when it seemed everything she tried only enmeshed her further within Davy’s grasp? The net had been thrown and she found herself caught in it and every struggle only seemed to bring it tighter and tighter about her.

“Okay Davy, you get your promise,” Brett told him as she did as they had both told her to do, and shut up. “And I get you.”

Davy nodded, not quite relieved, his face hard. “Good,” he muttered, taking a breath, then reached out suddenly to the cap Brett was still holding in his hands. It was his turn to choose and she was helpless to do anything but watch. It hardly mattered what he picked now, Brett would be the one choosing for him and Brett had just promised his allegiance to Davy.

Davy’s hand held a screwed up bit of paper when he pulled it out of that cap, but he didn’t bother to open it, didn’t even take a glance. Instead, he just simply held it out to Brett, who took it with a smile.

He laughed when he saw what it was. “You lucky bastard,” Brett told him, handing the paper for her to see even as he did so. “It’s truth.”

She said nothing as they went through the farce of Davy’s turn. It would be no difficult thing for him to face truth, not now after he had offered himself so completely to Brett in exchange for his dark promise. He had her trapped, the net was pulling tighter with each turn and she was left merely to watch in helpless silence as those two wrapped it all up between themselves. As they closed their deals and divided the spoils, up to and including her.

“What’re you want to know?” Davy prompted. Brett didn’t take long to think about it. He already had a damn good idea what he wanted to know, it was the only question on his mind at this point in time.

“Are you really so sure about offering yourself to me as you seem?”

For the first time since she had helped Brett bully Davy into letting his gay friend cop a feel, Davy hesitated. He opened his mouth to answer, as if it should have been easy to do so, but for the moment no words came out. Instead, he only glanced to her, his eyes narrowed, and she tried not to step back from that look. He watched her a moment, then shrugged.

“I’m sure of it,” he said then. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Oh, I know that. I also think there’s something more,” Brett challenged. Davy almost flinched, an expression he hid quickly, but which Brett still caught nonetheless. “You owe me truth, Davy. The truth about why you are so sure in giving yourself to me.”

“It is the truth…” Davy began, but then stopped, suddenly. This time, when he glanced at her and then back at Brett, it was with some confusion in his eyes.

“You know how to dominate,” he said suddenly, his voice hushed. “You know how the game is played. It’s not about gender. It’s about control. You know how to control.”

Brett only nodded, as if he had expected this all along, and indeed, perhaps he had. Even she was none so surprised when he finally said it. Davy always had to be so damn dominant that it wasn’t truly a surprise when he finally admitted to at least a passing curiosity in what the other side was like. Just as she liked to push on occasion, so it appeared he liked to be pushed once in a while, too. She could not give him that, she knew it. All she could do was challenge him to further domination. Brett, however, could show him just what he wanted to see, the other side of the coin. Brett could give him the kind of opportunity she would not, for that was not how she wanted Davy. She wanted him strong, she wanted him dark and dreadful. But for Brett, he could be something else again.

It was all about control and she knew she was about to lose hers. So went the rules of the game. She backed off when Davy took the baseball cap out of Brett’s hands and approached her with it, but there was only so far she could go before she found herself backed into the wall. Brett had followed Davy languidly, a dark smile on his face, for he had everything he could ever have hoped for secured now and all there was left was to see her fall. Davy knew he had her, Brett was going to enjoy watching him have her and she just backed up against the wall, staring at them desperately.

The cap was shoved at her.

“Choose, Elspeth,” he demanded. “You want to play by the rules? Well it’s your turn.”

He sounded angry, an anger she may have been able to mitigate if she had simply let him have his way after he had made her suck his dick, if she hadn’t rebelled so dangerously then. Now he would get his revenge for that, he would make her pay the price he would later have exacted from him by Brett, the price he himself had paid to ensure she fell under his control.

“Tell me you’ll be kind,” she whispered, staring at that cap. He only laughed.

“You fucking wish,” he returned. “Make your choice.”

She raised her shaking hand, it hovering desperately over the cap. Only a selection of ‘truth’ might save her now, but she couldn’t even trust to that. Truth had been what had got her into all this trouble to begin with, the truth Davy had forced from her at the beginning, making her admit to wanting to be dominated so. A truth she wasn’t even sure how to handle herself, but he had understood it, and understood how to use it against her, too.

She pulled a scrap of paper from the hat. He snatched it from her fingers before she even had a chance to see what it was, but it hardly mattered, it could make no difference now. Whatever it was, he still would have her. She only stood there backed against the wall, Davy crowding her on one side, Brett on the other and she unable to fight either of them. Even before they’d looked at that piece of paper, she’d all but given in. What other chance did she have now? What hope was there for her? Davy glanced at the paper, then grinned nastily and passed it to Brett. He laughed.

She’d got through truth, she’d even got through such an intense dare. She’d rather enjoyed that first kiss.

But she lost it on the promise, perhaps the easiest option of all.

“Promise,” Brett read the bit of paper with a sly smile. “And it’s my turn to choose too, but damn me if I just can’t think of anything. Davy, do you have any suggestions as to what she can promise?”

Which was Brett fulfilling his obligations towards Davy, fulfilling his own promise, out of which he had gained so much. Davy only smiled, darkly.

“Oh, I have plenty,” he said as he leaned forward towards her, holding his face very close to her own, his body shoved hard up against her. “But one in particular I think sums it all up.”

She tried not to look at him, an impossible feat with him standing so close she could feel his breath on her cheek and his arousal hard in his pants and pressing into her.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” she tried in a whisper. He only ignored it, which was all such a statement at such a time deserved.

“Promise to obey me, Elspeth?” he asked then and she gulped. His voice was dark and it was sultry and it made her body go completely weak in unwitting physical response. “Promise to obey all my commands? Promise to submit to my will? Promise to idolise me, to think only of pleasuring me, to make me your world? Do you promise me these things, Elspeth?”

“I…” she tried to begin, but could not make her voice work.

“Promise me. Promise to worship me, to make me your one and true and only god.”

She bit her lip and tried not to cry out. Then she only nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I promise, I promise.”

“Then get down on your knees.”

She slid down the wall slowly. She did not so much kneel as fall gently, the weight of fate pushing her down as hard as his hands ever could. Yet it did not feel wrong to fall before him. It was not so hard to do in the end. To obey this, the first of his commands, and which she knew would not be the last. It was only a matter of accepting the inevitable. Only a matter of knowing this was what she must do and it was useless now to try and fight. A matter of letting him into her head and into her self and giving up to him anything and everything he wanted there.

He asked it not directly of her, but as she fell to her knees and finally accepted him as her true lord and god, she also pushed herself forwards to the ground and brought her lips to his shoes, kissing his feet where he stood. She had promised to worship him and so that was what she did, all but overwhelmed by her need for him, no longer fighting it, no longer trying to deny it. She found it all made sense once she stopped fighting. She was sprawled on the ground by his feet, her mouth on his boots, her hands clutching at his ankles and she knew only sheer adoration for him, and that was right, that was only proper. That was the way it should be.

He just stood there and watched her do this and nodded approvingly at such base worship, with that dark smile which made her both fear him and desire him so desperately in turn.

“My lord,” she whispered, her lips to his shoes. “My god.”

“That’s right, Elspeth. That’s right,” he told her, his voice low and dark indeed. “I am your god. An angered god. You denied me earlier, you denied me when I wanted you. I will make you suffer for that.”

Her breath shuddered, a desperate intake of air mixed with fear and half a swallowed plea. She was unable to reply coherently, unable even to beg for his mercy, for she knew she deserved all the pain he promised she would feel and she could not resist him, not any longer. It was his will and before that she was powerless, she was nothing, she was worthless, and instead she merely remained where she was, prostrate before him and kissing his feet, gripping his ankles, pathetic and debased and worshipping him wholly.

“You want me to do it, so you can watch?” Brett made the offer sounding at his most normal, reasonable best, as if he dealt with just such a situation every other day. “She won’t be so proud by the time I’m finished with her.”

But Davy’s smile was grim. “No. No, this I want to do myself,” he replied as he looked down upon her. “But you can partake, if you’ve truly an interest. Though I thought your interests lay elsewhere.”

“They do. I was offering for your sake, not for my own,” he shrugged easy enough. Then as Davy’s eyes caught his own, he smiled rather fondly. “I have a greater prize awaiting me in you, my friend. I’m content to wait until then.”

He was standing close beside Davy and raised one hand to his shoulder as he spoke, running it down his arm gently and squeezing softly as he did so. At any other time, in any other place, Davy would have jumped well away, perhaps even with a discomforted curse and Brett probably would have laughed, for he would have only been acting in joke. Yet he was not joking now, his action was seriously meant and fondly executed, both desire and simple patience in his movements. And Davy did not pull away, though his breath did catch and he stiffened some at the touch.

She felt his physical response from where she lay, just as she had listened to his words and taken in all he had said, for his words were always important, she hung on each one, even when they were not directly addressed to her. As he stiffened, she pushed herself to her knees, reaching out for his hands and taking them in her own. Just as she had kissed his feet, now she kissed hands, her lips on his fingers, his knuckles, all over his palms and wrists, covering his skin in her desperate, little kisses. He allowed her to do this just as he had let her kiss his feet, accepting her worship as his right and she grateful simply for that.

As she kissed his knuckles, she looked up from where she knelt, eyes wide, watching his face, the face of her god. His friend stood just to the side of him, one hand held possessively around his arm, but fondly so, a gentle-firm touch. It made him shiver still, but nonetheless his heavy lidded eyes were half closed as he let himself grow used to being touched fondly by another man, no longer trying to shake it off or deny what was to come between them. When he shook now it was not solely from his long standing fear of this and he even seemed to respond to that touch with as much anticipation as he did anxiety. Perhaps even with some expectation of pleasure of his own. He, too, had accepted something within himself he had not found easy to face, just like she.

“My lord?” she ventured softly, her voice quiet and filled only with respect and awe. “My sweet, dark god…?”

She still held his hands in her own as she looked up at him and waited for his acknowledgment, if he chose to gave it. His eyes flickered fully open, then narrowed as he turned them down upon her, undecided as yet whether to be angry at her presumption.

Brett chuckled. “You’ll want to watch this one, Davy,” he commented idly. “She’s got an independent streak you might want to beat out of her.”

“She’ll learn quick enough with what I have in mind for her,” Davy returned darkly. “What is it, girl? What tempts you to interrupt my own personal, private conversations?”

In apology, abject as it was, she looked down again and brought her face back to his hands, covering them in kisses once more, savouring the feel of his skin beneath her lips. She could not help but want those hands upon her, as hard and rough and demanding as she knew they would be, and she squirmed where she knelt at the thought of it, her legs pressing together in a failed attempt to deal with her own desperation. It was not her place to dictate desire or the fulfilment of it; it was his desire alone which was important and his needs which would command the when and the how and all else in between. Her own desire irrelevant, she would only experience satisfaction vicariously now, through him and him alone.

“Let me be there when he takes you, my lord,” she murmured against his hands, gripping them tightly. “Let me be there when you give yourself to him.”

Silence. She risked a glance up, but he was not looking at her now, he had turned to glance at his friend, who indeed only shrugged, a wisp of an amused smile on his face.

“Now there’s a thought,” Brett mused. “She’s yours to decide upon now, of course, but you might like to have one there to serve you whilst I introduce you to such new delights.”

Davy’s voice sounded grim when he replied. “We’ll see,” was all he answered, before he caught sight of her wide, watching eyes and the corner of his mouth turned up somewhat cruelly. “Of course, it may do her well to bare witness to a loving coupling. To know it is not her place to receive such care or kindness, to know her master would give himself to another out of fondness and be taken as such, but that she herself only exists to be used and abused. Well, girl? Does that seem about right to you?”

His words hurt, she knew they were the truth and she could not help but hang her head as he detailed it to her. An obvious gesture perhaps, yet she could not and would not hide it from him, for she had no right to hide anything from him anymore.

“Yes, lord,” she merely whispered, openly acknowledging the pain his words caused her. A pain to which she submitted because it was his right to inflict it, if he so wished. And if he wanted to inflict it, then by simple definition, she must well deserve it. “And yet, my lord, my god, by your leave, I…”

She faltered there, struggling with the difficulty of this and all of a sudden glancing up, because it was too hard to do this whilst looking down to his feet. She met his eyes squarely and then, for the first time since he had forced that promise from her, she also let her gaze move across to Brett directly.

He only raised his eyebrows, as well he might. It was Davy who was meant to be her entire world now. To her, Brett should only figure in significance through his relations to Davy and it was via Davy alone she should view the world. Yet that was why she did this now, deliberately acknowledged him separately.

“Sweet god, dark god, if it pleases you,” she began again, a praise and worship to tide over his anger. Then, nervously, she risked a smile as she looked at them each individually, though she kept it mostly respectful, because she knew better than to push it too far. “Next time, if you please, let me choose the game. You’ll like what I have in mind, boys. I promise.”

Brett was better at hiding his smile, though he had to turn away to do it, stifling laughter. Davy himself had to fully bite his lip to keep from grinning, something he couldn’t quite help at first. Then he swore at her for making him do so, with some effort managing to force it all back down and return the dominating anger, which was now only increased tenfold. She was going to pay heavily for making him slip like that, the dark fury on his face was indication enough she would suffer badly for this indeed. But she had already been aware of the likely consequences and she had always known how to push his dominance so, just how best to turn on his need to control.

He slapped her hard, his hand connecting sharply with the side of her face and bringing real tears to her eyes as the force of the contact literally knocked her down. She cried out with shock and pain, suddenly finding herself face down on the carpet, the sting of all five of his fingers throbbing viciously against her cheek. The open handed blow had held all his anger, all his fury, and it left her cowering in such frightened distress before him she could do nothing but cry and try to plead for his mercy. A painful reminder of her place in the scheme of things now, a reminder of exactly where she now belonged, which was crawling at his feet, grovelling on the ground before him.

“Please, don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me…” she couldn’t help herself as dragged herself forwards once again, clutching desperately at his ankles and kissing his boots. “Please, mercy, my lord, my god, my sweet and dark god. Have mercy…”

“Yes, that’s right, beg me Elspeth. Beg me just so,” he said to her then, looking down at where she cowered pathetically at his feet, crying and desperate. “It won’t help you, but beg me anyway, because I love to hear it. I love to see you grovelling so pathetically, debasing yourself before me.”

Which was exactly what she did, begging him desperately, debasing herself so wretchedly and feeling as pathetic as he said she was as she did so. He was not a merciful god, however, and his wrath was great indeed. He had her crawl to the centre of the room then and he had her strip to her underwear there. Laughter, from his friend as well as himself, when they discovered she was so sodden and soaked, so wet for him and desperate for his touch. He made her complicit in stripping away what little remained of own her self dignity, then. With that dark, knowing grin, he set about making her party to her own degrading submission.

He told her it was her choice. If she truly wanted him so very much, then she would remove all her clothing, including her underwear, and they would be thrown irretrievably away. Any attempt to protest or hesitate would be read as indication she obviously didn’t want him badly enough, which would have consequences in itself, but not nearly so much as trying to lie to him would. What else was she to do? She was desperate for him, needing him to touch her, to take her, to fuck her however he willed; to use her, abuse her, to hurt her if it so pleased him. So she offered up her clothes, just as she offered up her own self, as a sacrifice, before him, her god.

As she knelt there, naked and humiliated and desperate with desire for him, he stood beside her and began slowly to undo the thick, long leather belt which he wore through the loops of his jeans. Like a dreadful kind of foreplay, he slid it inch by inch from around his hips and her eyes were glued upon it, unable to look away from what she knew would soon become the instrument of her own punishment. He held the heavy buckle in his right hand and wrapped the strong, dark leather around his fist a couple of times, until it was just the length he required. Just the length he needed so as to give her the belting of her life.

His arm would be strong, his blows would be hard. Her tears fell with the knowledge he had promised her suffering and he did not mean for it to be over quickly. And yet she did not fight him. She did not struggle, not even as she knelt there with her bare back and buttocks exposed to the leather strap in his hand and he instructed her to move into the position required to receive his discipline. This was his will, the will of her god. It was his will for her to suffer. And as such, her suffering could only be sublime.

The next game, perhaps, might be different. She had some ideas about that, though no doubt so did he and they still had Brett’s promised night with him to get through yet, a night which could prove very interesting indeed. Just now, however, there was only to be pain. Then later, pleasure. His pleasure, of course, for that was all that mattered now, his pleasure and his will and her submission to both. Such was all she wanted now, all she could conceive, to know only to please him and adore him and do just as he commanded. To lose herself in his presence and his desire. To make him her world.

To worship him. Just as she had promised.

They were the rules of the game, after all.

His brows knit and he leaned back in his chair.

“Lexis, your desire is your choice. I won’t act on that desire unless you understand that you are still responsible for your choices, just as I am responsible for mine. I am not interested in control over anyone who is not willingly offering it.”

It made sense, and I knew that he was right, but it was still difficult to express myself.

He asked, “Did you enjoy what we did in there?”

“Yes.” I relaxed again as I liked when he asked me easy questions with one word answers.

“What about it did you like? Be specific.”

I hesitated and wondered what I did like about it. I knew some of why I liked it, but it was hard to tell him out loud.

He said, “It might help you if you think of it this way: when you hold in how you are feeling, and why you are feeling it, you are exercising a very strict control over your emotions. And yet you say that you want to give up control. You say that you want me to ‘take’ what I want, but what I want can’t be taken. You have to let go and trust me: you have to offer these things to me. Does that make sense?”

It did make sense. I just hadn’t ever thought of it that way. He waited as I tried to gain the courage to tell him.

‘Ok,” I started, “I liked knowing that you were in charge, not just of me, but of the situation. I felt safe.”

“Go on, ” he said.

“I liked it when…when you called me good girl. It’s like I pleased you and that makes me happy.”

He smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. What else?”

“I like…I like those sounds. You know…” I blushed as I said that.

“The sounds when I fuck your mouth?” He asked, and without waiting for a reply he added, “I like those too Lexis.”

“And I like it when you give me orders.”

“Come over her Lexis.”

I walked around the desk and stood beside him, where he ordered me to lay over his lap, first making me lift my shirt and slip to my waist. His hands circled my ass. He spread my cheeks apart a few times and passed his thumbs over my tight bud. It was just beginning to make me wiggle and moan when he slapped me hard.

He continued to rub my ass, making me wetter and wetter, but he didn’t spank me again. I felt my pussy drip and spread my legs a little, hoping he would take the hint. He slapped me hard again.

“Bend over the desk. Keep your eyes forward.”

I did as he told me, but as much as I had fantasized about it, I was growing more uncertain as reality came closer. I heard him open his desk drawer and set something on the desk but I didn’t look. I felt something smooth and cool slide into my pussy slowly and then pop back out. He brought it to my face for me to see. It was sort of a dildo, but it was narrow at the top and wide at the bottom, then narrowed again like a short wine stem. It was red and shiny and smooth. He brought it to my lips and pushed it in slowly and told me to clean all of my juices off it.

“This is a butt plug Lexis. I’m going to put it in your ass, but first I want you to feel it in your mouth.”

I sucked it clean and he withdrew it when he was satisfied.

He inserted it in my pussy again, twisting it and coating it once more with my juices. Then he dragged the slippery plug toward my ass. I flinched.

“Relax.” He told me as he ran his other hand over my ass and then up onto my back and across my shoulders. His touch felt so tender and so good. “It will hurt a little, but the more you relax, the less it will hurt.”

I didn’t completely understand, but I trusted him and I wanted so badly to give something to him that nobody else had ever had. I felt the tip press into my little hole and thought about having it in my mouth. Not so big I thought. It’s ok, it will be ok. I was surprised when I felt it go away and be replaced by something wet and warm. Oh God, he was licking my ass and it felt amazing. His tongue dabbed stiffly into me, just as the plug had done, but it felt so warm and so wet. I felt a finger slowly sinking into my pussy as he continued tonguing my ass. My clit was so swollen and I found myself gyrating, trying to get his finger to touch it. He pulled out his finger and slapped my ass hard. I stopped moving. Then he returned to using his tongue.

Soon his tongue had traveled down and he was now tapping and alternately sucking my clit with his tongue. Each time I came even near to coming he would stop and bring his tongue back to my tight little hole. Once I was sufficiently slick from my pussy to my ass, he pressed the butt plug into me, this time making small thrusts until my body began pressing back for more. Then he pushed it in all the way, not stopping, not tenderly, just pressed it in as I screamed out. My ass snapped tight around the stem and he kept one large hand over it while his other hand rubbed my back and my hips, reassuring me it would stop hurting soon. It was a stinging like I had never felt before but at the same time I could feel my body pulsing around it, a sensation that was strange and pleasurable. I felt his fingers dip in my pussy and begin once again playing with my clit. Soon again I felt his tongue there as he fucked me with his fingers. It felt so good and I wanted to come so badly.

“Please Sir can I come?” I was thrusting back against his fingers and face. I felt him push against the end of the plug as he sucked my clit.

“Oh God Sir, I am going to come!” He pressed it again and fucked me harder with his fingers, my pussy eager for it to be rougher still.

I whimpered and panted as a wave of sensation spread through my body, my legs tingling and toes curling in momentary spasm. He held his fingers deep inside me as I came and my pussy squeezed tightly down on them. My ass clamped down on the plug, milking it, clenching down on it. I jerked and for a few seconds there was almost nothing but blackness. I don’t believe I had ever come so hard in my life.

Once my body began winding down he pulled his fingers from me. I felt him carefully pull at the plug. My ass reluctantly stretched open once again to expel it, leaving a sweet stinging and soreness. I was exhausted, emotionally and physically. I felt his weight on me. It felt so good, pinning me there. His face was in my neck, biting me.

“Soon,” he whispered, “your ass will be ready for my cock.” He continued kissing and biting my neck, sending small shivers down my body.

“Eventually,” he whispered, “you’ll crave it.”

My mouth was pulled off him as my head was pulled back.

“Open. Show Miss Diana.” I opened my mouth wide, revealing the semen inside. She pulled nearer to me and kissed my open mouth. I had never been kissed by a woman like this. It was sexual and dominant. Her tongue lapped the offering within my mouth. I felt her body against my skin, felt her clothed body against my nakedness. I was almost cumming. She pulled away leaving me breathless and tottering on the edge. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening for a moment. Her mouth took me again. This time as her mouth was attached to mine her fingers opened me, fucked my insides. Her mouth left me momentarily. Desperately I looked sideways to Master. He shook his head.

“She is not to cum Diana. Not yet.”

“God she is so wet. Dripping. And her pussy is gripping me hard. I bet she is quite a fuck.” Master laughed I think. I was clawing with my fingers in desperation. Thankfully she stopped, my hips continued moving, hopefully, desperately. I was whimpering into her, my hips grinding into thin air, seeking something, anything. I was so near, my body was shaking, I realised that I was making pleading noises, animal like. I was trying to find the pressure again with my tits and cunt. Oh God. I could feel how I had tensed the tendons in my throat attempting to control myself. I knew myself again then. Her hand took my hair and her fingers were presented again. She wiped away the tears that had dripped onto my cheeks with her fingers reeking of my lust. I sucked them clean, realising that my mouth was still partially full of Masters cum. I was shaking on my knees, my body moving involuntarily.

“Look at you slut. What are you?”

“A slut Master. Your slut.”

“Yes you are. Why are you? What do you feel?”

“Just a seething mass of disgusting need and lust Master. I’m… I’m so close… Master. I’m yours… I’m yours because you make me like this, with what you have me do Master. You create this in me and I can do nothing about it but you can. You can control it. You can create it, and you can deny it, and you can release it. That’s why Master. I’m yours Master, all yours.” The words came tumbling out, tears rolled down my face, my hips still rocked.

“That’s right my darling Tuesday slut. That’s right. Now I have you reduced again to what you are.” His words soothed. His hands soothed my face and he kissed me. “No, no more tears my sweet.” I used his strength to stop. I was just an animal full of passions that I couldn’t control, but for Master I needed to. Without him I was nothing.

“But you’ve become a little complacent, haven’t you? A little safe even in your humiliations and submission. I don’t want you to forget it is your Master who decides, your Master who owns, your Master who is to be pleased. I stood open eyed. He was right of course. He knew. He always knew. I nodded silently even as I trembled. I knew what I needed to say but it was hard. I looked at the floor. Oh God.

“Please Master will you punish your ungrateful submissive?”

I climbed over his knee on his instruction. I felt the wet warmth of his cock, still out, as I lay face down over his legs, placing my hands on the floor and my buttocks high and my legs spread a little. This position reduced to me to acceptance. I had to accept. I wanted to accept. I felt his knee near my groin and the flutters began again. I was to be spanked and this time with an audience. He began. Smack. The pain shot through me and I gasped. I counted for him, not knowing his total. Now on the other cheek, then back again. My breath came in rapid bursts as I constantly held it in and then needed to breath again. My bottom felt on fire now. Each slap warming a slightly different place. I tried not to squirm or sob but it so difficult. Fires raged in my body and soon connected with those in my sex. I was aware that my sobs had changed slightly to more animal like sounds as I felt myself rising to each slap now. My face was wet. The arousal fanned by the fires in my bottom. My rhythmic grasping of the plug up my arse. My mind couldn’t concentrate on one arousing item before it found another that caught its attention. I was near again. The initial slaps reducing my inner excitement, now bring it back with a vengeance. I knew he would allow me to cum under punishment. My cunt felt huge and neglected. I could feel him erect again and pressing against me. I was… He stopped and I felt my hips bucking up and down in frustration yet again. Had I stopped counting? What was it? Please, please just a little more.

“Can you see how she has reddened? Can you see how her buttocks clench and unclench around her plug? Look at her cunt. Look how it has curled open to reveal her dark inner flesh. Feel how hot the flesh is.” A hand touched and I pushed up again. It slid over my curves.

“God yes. It is hot. And she is so wet again. Her thighs and cunt is shinning.” The word ‘cunt’ in her female voice so strange. I couldn’t remember any other woman using it except me with Master. I felt opened by her use of it, my inner degradation exposed. The slaps again, counting again, not knowing the numbers now but counting anyway, grunting, whimpering. Nearer, nearer. And then again as i was tottering, fireworks beginning it stopped. “Please, please.” I whimpered childishly. Knowing.

“What slut?”

“Please… touch me Master. Let me… cum.”

“Not yet. Lift up on your toes.” I lifted clear of his legs and felt him move back on the seat. “Now on your back over my knees.” I turned, laying on my heated buttocks on his knees, the texture of his trousers obvious against my raw flesh, my back on the sofa, one of my feet there too the other on the ground, my hands stretched above my head. Miss Diana was sitting on the coffee table bending nearer. Master took a tissue and cleaned my face of tears and sweat and saliva.

“Pass me the spatula please.” To Diana. She passed the flexible plastic spatula from the coffee table to Master. I was gasping still. Laid out for them. A piece of meat, but very much alive.

He slapped my breast on the side with the spatula! Not hard but it shocked me. Again and again on the same breast, each getting a little harder. Over and over until I thought my breast would burst, open like a volcano. I had my mouth closed desperately. Over and over. That one breast so big and hot. So tender. Oh God I couldn’t take it. Then once directly on the hardened nipple. I cried out and my body arched up. The pain intense and immediately transferring to my clit. I cried out, an animal cry, almost a scream. Tottering, wanting to fall into the chasm of orgasm. Just short, oh God. He let me calm a little. Listening to the tone of my whimpers carefully until he knew. God he knew! Controlling me. Oh God. I was covered in sweat.

“Jesus! Michael!” Diana. I daren’t look at her.

“Yes I thought you might appreciate what I’m doing.”

He began so gently on the other breast. The same. Smack, smack of that horrid plastic, building up the pressure in my breast with the pain. He didn’t do it on this one as much I noticed. Results were quicker. He paused again. We all knew what was coming. The wait was worse than the pain/pleasure. I realised that noises were escaping from my mouth, saliva dribbling too. Oh the wait. Then suddenly the thwack of the spatula on the bursting nipple. Electricity. It was like a shock of electricity. My body arching up again. His control perfect. So near! So near! Deep grunts came from me as I lowered again. He pushed my legs apart so I couldn’t rub them together. I cried again in frustration. It was too much. A hand held mine down until I calmed a little more. Rivulets of sweat drained off my skin. My cunt felt so big. So grossly open, wanting, needing. I daren’t open my eyes.

I felt the kiss of the spatula on my mound. Moaning and sobbing openly now. Totally out of control. Diana holding my arms. Legs apart, held by one of Masters arms. Again softly, building. Screaming each time now at the merest touch. My clit feeling each and every ripple of each tender kiss of the smacks. He was going to stop! I knew! Oh God I was so, so near. Gurgling now. Then one almost on my exposed clit. He let me over, into the void of orgasm. It felt so peaceful for a moment, feeling my body rigid, stretched. How long, I didn’t know. Then it hit, my body held down as I thrashed and thrashed. My head free, thrashing from side to side, my hips jerking up and down as my body filled with the electricity and fireworks and lava and thankfulness. It hit again. Then again. My body wanting and taking more of the wonderful feelings.

I lay over him exhausted. I lay incapable as waves of pleasure drowned me. Eventually I opened my eyes. Master was looking down on me smiling. I cried in gratitude, my head dropping sideways. Diana hand was up her skirt. Her face still, her eyes closed, her mouth slackly open. I closed mine again so happy and content.

He helped me. I noticed his leg was covered in a damp patch. He helped me rest and yet keep me where he wanted me. Still in the after effects of my orgasm he fastened me, spread me on my back on the coffee table he used for this purpose. My legs were fastened to the legs by leather straps attaching my ankle cuffs. I was spread wide and there was a small leather cushion on the very edge of the table beneath my buttocks lifting my gaping sex towards them. My wrists were fastened to the other legs in the same way using my wrist cuffs causing me to arch slightly. My head was on the edge and supported. A small though wide leather prick like shape, that I knew from the past was fastened in my mouth keeping me open around it. It had been used both in my mouth and cunt at different times and the taste of leather and sex mingled. I was unable to move other than a fraction. I had attempted to, obviously, as soon as I was secured but I was gratified to know that I now was totally unable to do anything and would have to passively accept. My cunt wept ever more liquids down my spread crack, no doubt staining the light coloured leather cushion more and more. I tried to rest in the peace of knowing that I was now bound and gagged and helpless in my plight. That made me pulse all the more.

Cream was being rubbed over me by Miss. Over my breasts where they had suffered over my body down to my mound. The caresses were a luxury. As she rubbed in the cream she pulled back the flesh to tease my clit to come out from hiding again. She blew on it bringing soft sighs from my full mouth. Under instruction from Master my anal plug was removed. I felt the inner width stretch me and I groaned. She had seemed to take considerable delight in applying copious amounts of lubricant inside my now opened anus with her fingers. Sliding them in and out as though slowly fucking me. Master must have realised how humiliating it would feel for me to be touched by a woman like this. Finally she wiped her hands clean on my thighs.

“You like all this, don’t you?” Soft whispers, her voice tender. I nodded as well as I could. There was a look that was almost awe on her face but I must have misinterpreted it. “I’ve never seen such a slut as you. You are such an amazing slut.” My anus spasmed in its openness and I knew it was visible as it winked involuntarily. My body was so alive. My skin so sensitive to even the smallest of air currents. It seemed as though my skin could easily split to allow my engorged body to break out. I ached, I stung, my body pulsed, I was so happy.

I wasn’t going to be allowed to watch the video I realised. My position left me unable to see the TV, my only sight was upwards or towards the sofa with effort. I didn’t know whether I was pleased or not. I had never seen myself cum and had a strange desire to see myself humiliating myself and cumming.

Miss was still next to me when Master spoke.

“I think you are overdressed, don’t you Diana?” I heard the steel in his voice that I knew and loved, but I hadn’t heard him use it with Miss before. She stood, I could see the length of thigh next to me and slightly, though not a great amount up her skirt. I watched as she looked at him. Her tongue moistened her lips though she seemed unaware of her action. She seemed to stand there a long time, Masters eyes were direct. Eventually I saw her move, her hands undoing her skirt, it slid down her legs. She was looking down at it as she saw my eyes on her and her actions changed subtly to more overt suggestiveness as she undid her blouse and took that off rather theatrically. Her underwear matched, an expensive set I guessed, she looked good, her figure firm, her breasts larger than mine in her bra. I eyed them enviously. They rose and fell with her breathing and she was obviously breathing deeply, attempting to suggest she was acting it out even though there could have been more behind it. What was happening aroused me, puzzled me, made me feel jealous, made me realise that I was captive to this. Her thumbs caught her panties and they were pulled down revealing her bush, her hairs flattened and obviously damp between her legs. I was not allowed those hairs there. My shaven mound distinct and categorising me as one who did as she was told. Her bra dropped revealing her nipples and large aureoles. I was slightly pleased to note that they sagged more than mine even though mine were smaller, and in my position flattened.

She moved over to him and sat astride his knee facing the TV, laying her naked body against his. I could see her rub herself against him seductively. I knew my own heat. She looked at me briefly, smiling before Master turned on the video with his remote. The video began. I could only see them as they watched, their eyes glued to whatever they saw of me on the screen. I could only see them and listen to the sounds from the tape. Of course I knew what the content was but frustratingly not what they could actually see, not exactly the spectacle I had made. In the bondage that contained me I could hear the things that I had to do. Hear my sounds, hear myself humiliate myself. Master took Miss Diana’s tits in his hands, her eyes wide, still focused on the screen.

I had been told that I had to go into a room and cum three times within 20 minutes. I had to bring myself off using anything within one room. I was to stay bound. The girl would video me as I was doing it all. She had a timer, after she had made sure I understood she had begun it. I with my mind in a turmoil I sat as the seconds went by. I had suddenly decided on the kitchen. Feeling so very naked in front of the girl and with the total embarrassment and humiliation of what I had to do making the blood pound in my ears I began. My broom was against the door, grasping it with my hands behind me I placed it against a chair so that it angled upwards. I had squatted over it and held it position with my feet. I rubbed myself up and down the plastic handle until I came. It hurt a little but the pleasure was overwhelming. Her eyes were on me, the camera lens was on me. I thought of Master seeing me doing this. I thought of what I was. I was being disgusting, so disgusting. No one had ever seen me masturbate before except Master. Still trembling I finally managed to get up. Using my hands behind me I turned on the washing machine. It was empty but it didn’t matter. I moved it through its cycles until it was vibrating and I pressed my crutch against the corner as it vibrated against my clit.

Masters spoke and stopped the video. They both stood. Miss Diana helped him undress and they sat again. Masters cock was erect, beautiful. I wanted it deep inside me. I felt myself moving against my bonds. Miss Diana held her lips apart and I watched as she slowly slid down him, down his length, down onto his cock so it fucked her. Oh God. Her eyes looked glazed with arousal. I heard her told to keep still but one of his hands went to her sex and I could just see it playing with her. When she moved I saw he pinched her nipple to keep her still. I felt it in mine.

On the screen I heard my second orgasm, I knew it took less time than the first. Not bothering to turn the washing machine off I had stood gasping in the middle of the room wondering desperately what to do next. Panic had setting in. I had no idea of time. I looked at the bananas in the fruit bowl, but didn’t know how to use them. I scanned around me again. Finally I climbed up onto the table and dropped them onto the floor and lay down so that I could press down on them and grind myself off as I humped the floor. I could imagine the sight I made to her and the camera. I could hear my gruntings.

I heard soft cries in front too. Miss Diana was near but Master was holding her by the waist now, keeping her still. His fingers moving between cunt and nipples with his free hand. She was pleading and he was refusing. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I knew, I had been there. Now watching someone else it was burning me up inside. I couldn’t do anything, I was helpless.

I heard the timer go off on the tape behind me. I knew I had been desperately humping against the bananas on the floor. The girl had stopped me. I wanted to carry on but she wouldn’t allow it. Told me to get up and go to stand by the chair again. As I had sat I knew I was rocking in frustration still. She fastened the camera back in its tripod. Sweat had covered me, as did bits of fluff and dirt from the floor, hair stuck to my face. My chest heaved with my knowledge that I had failed. My cunt throbbed in its soreness. She told me that I had a chance to make up for my failure. I was to cum as often and as fast as I could using my fingers as I stood before the camera in the next 15 minutes. She unfastened the cuffs. I began.

Miss Diana was openly pleading, begging to be allowed to cum. My own arousal was intense now though I had no means of release. That made it worse..

I could hear my cries and sobs, the wet slapping sounds of my fingers over tender flesh. It would be open to their eyes as I pushed lewdly for the camera to see me, see what I had become. My moans and cries, the slapping of my fingers echoing in my ears. The girl had left me on the floor with my hands still grasping my tender sex and let herself out. I simply wanted to sleep and did. When I awoke the room stank of me, of my juices. My cunt was sore I could hardly move. It was so very tender. I soaked in the bath and eventually rubbed cream over myself gently. I had to wear a pad over it to stop the rubbing. The soreness was a constant reminder for days.

The tape ended, the room now silent except Miss Diana’s sobbing pleading and whimpers. Her body exposed to me. Her face flushed red as were her breasts. She was restrained by Master still. I was so aware of what he was doing it was pinful but I found pride in my Master’s abilities even though I craved it to be me.

“Cum for us now slut.” She opened her eyes for a second looking directly at me, then cried out, looking helpless. Her body shook and rose and fell on his hard flesh inside her, free to fuck now. Her cunt almost as loud as her sobs. I watched her body find its release whilst I still ached for it. I struggled against my ties as I watched, knowing the futility of what I was doing but needing to have physical movement of sorts. I watched her fall forward, holding Masters knees, her breasts swinging in front of her, her face hidden. I felt the sweat on my face and the trickle of liquids around my crack.

He lifted her from him, easing her onto her knees in front of him. He stood, his cock glistening and red, standing up proudly and dominant. I gasped looking up at him as he stood between my splayed legs.

“Do you want something Tuesday?”

“Oh Master. Oh please. Please will you fuck me. Please fuck me. Please”

He knelt and his cock touched my lips. I jerked up within my bonds. He took himself with his hands and bent it down. I felt him at my arse. I wanted him in me, my cunt preferably but anywhere. I wanted to be used. I wanted him to pleasure himself using me and those thoughts were so exciting to me. His cock nudged against my slippery lower opening. He forced into me, stretching me far more than the plug, forcing me to accept him. He was in and pushing now, pushing deep. Hot flesh filling his sub. I was thrashing on the table. I felt as insect stuck on a pin. He nodded. I came. I was so aroused it needed little to push me over. My arse stretched and full and nothing else touched, nothing else needed. My body found release, going into that dream like rigidity for however long, out of the universe for a time, before screaming out, jerking on the controlling hand at my cunt. I could hear noises, not certain of their origin. Cries, whimpers, laughter, wet noises. The bonds somehow keeping the sensations and amazing pleasure locked inside me. Oh God. Oh God. As I came down finally I knew he had cum within me. He had waited to give it to me! Cum up my arse, with an audience, I was his. Oh yes. I belonged to Master. Miss Diana was kneeling beside me watching me. Nothing mattered. I was in an inner peace. As I calmed, flavoured fingers slid into my mouth. I sucked and sucked like a baby. My body continued to feel the electric sparks inside, fireworks slowly disappearing from my vision.

“Oh… thank… you… Master… Thank… you.”

Telling her to leave her clothes she was sent with me to make lunch. Everything was ready as usual, except this time I wasn’t alone. Miss, naked too. We worked quietly in silence, semen dribbling from me still. Allowing it to, enjoying it.

Tags: Fetish, Story