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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Passions Playpen part 8 of 14 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PASSION’S PLAYPEN
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Eight
After being used so cruely out under the birch tree, strung up
by her wrists with her boobs swaying like ripe fruit in front of her
while her ass was stung endlessly by the birch, Kate wanted nothing more
than to go home. She cried to herself, stumbling in the wet, dew-laden
grass as Melinda led her back into John’s house. Oh, how could he have
been so inconsiderate of her? Kate asked herself. She’d contemplated a
more romantic encounter than simply being tied up and fucked, and,
worse, whipped by his mistress. Melinda had struck her with the hand of
a jealous woman. Kate’s bottom was burning like the sun and amidst the
overall feeling of fire there were deeper, whip-thin scars of heat,
blazing away on her chubby cheeks. Kate knew those must be weals, or
near-weals, and they’d take days to heal. She wanted to reach behind
herself to feel if her skin had been broken, but she didn’t have the
nerve. Instead she sobbed into her palm while her other hand was
dragged forward by Melinda, who led her back up the stone porch and in
through John’s imposing front door. Its square wooden frame received
her like the maw of Hell, Kate’s bottom impelled forward by its burning
into what she knew must be more ferocious tortures inside.
Yet, within, inside the seeming safety of the house, Kate’s
bottom turned out to be a new source of delight for John. He
photographed her as she came tripping inside. Kate was led into a room
where a massage table had been set up. It was modern-looking, like an
examination table in a doctor’s office. Kate saw that a clean fresh
white towel had been thrown over it for her comfort.
“Up on the table, dear. We must attend to your bottom right
away,” Melinda said in a conspiratorial voice to Kate. Eunice stood
near the table. She viewed Kate with the air of a British household
servant, an adherent of the commonsense view of life, who, though
dutiful, looked upon the lifestyle of her rich masters with dubious
disapproval. Nonetheless she stood beside a night table cluttered with
phials, apparently all specially prepared just for Kate.
Kate was grasped from behind by John. He took her by the ribs
so as not to further injure her bottom. He lifted her bodily. For a
moment Kate was held aloft by him, her feet merely dangling beneath
her. Then he plopped her face down on the table. The soft towel
received her. Kate felt her nipples, still stiff from the cold
outdoors, prick against the cotton of the towel.
“Spread your legs,” Melinda told Kate. The blonde had no
intention of obeying. How could she show her sex to these people after
they’d treated her so roughly? Yet, with an anxious glance at John, she
saw resistance was not a viable option. He was standing with his arms
folded over his chest. He was bare now, except for his socks and
shoes. He’d disrobed to fuck her and Kate wondered if his discarded
clothing still lay on his front lawn. She saw the rippling of his
muscles and his stern countenance. Melinda slapped Kate’s unmarked
thighs, intimating that her wounded bottom would get the next slap if
she didn’t obey. Quietly Kate opened herself to Melinda. The woman,
seeing her legs part, helped her obey by seizing Kate’s ankles and
spreading her feet as wide as the table would allow. Then Kate’s ankles
were each cuffed with soft leather cuffs to the table.
Kate’s hands, meanwhile, were drawn out in front of her by
Eunice. The woman, tsking at Kate’s fate, at her coming here, no doubt,
in the first place, to this forest-shrouded house where only John was
the Law, cuffed Kate’s wrists.
“Here’s a pillow. You can rest your cheek on it,” Eunice said
sympathetically to Kate. The servant slipped a small soft slipcased
cushion under Kate’s face. With her arms at full extension, and her
legs spread, Kate resigned herself to her misfortune and settled her
cheek onto the pillow. Eunice produced a soft cloth and wiped Kate’s
face with it. Kate wriggled her nose. She felt like a little girl
being attended to by her mommie and she didn’t like the feeling of utter
dependency.
“Your bottom needs aromatherapy to make it better,” Melinda
said quietly to Kate. “The first lotion I’ll apply is an antispectic,
Clove.”
Melinda had barely spoken when Kate felt a splash of liquid
upon her bare fanny.
“Aughgghgh!” Kate cried. She launched her face into the air
and pulled at the staps which held her. “Oooooh, it burns!” Kate sobbed
when she’d recovered herself a little. Eunice hovered over her face
with a fresh towel. When she got a chance she wiped Kate’s face anew.
“Of coruse it burns. I told you it was an antiseptic, silly!”
Melinda snipped. “First we must cleanse your bottom of any residue from
the birch. This should numb your bottom too, and give it a little
relief.” With her bare hands Melinda gently massaged Kate’s wettened
bottom as the blonde gritted her teeth and tried to bear her
discomfort. As the oil soaked into her skin she did feel a slight
lessening of the awful burning which afflicted her. Her bottom also
began to grow warm. Kate wiggled her ass as she felt the warmth turn
into a glow, as if her bare ass were a nightlight. John, watching,
began to rise again as he watched. And as his manhood grew he took more
photographs of Kate for his friends.
“Don’t worry. We have no intention of harming you,” Melinda
told Kate. “John will do doubt want to fuck you again after enjoying
the pleasure of seeing you whipped. Try to bear up well under it. This
is nothing compared to what birthing a child will feel like. Or so I’m
told,” Melinda smiled at John.
“Next I’ll apply Peppermint,” Melinda told Kate. There was a
new splash of oil on Kate’s tushy. She cried out again, but less
urgently, for she was pleasantly numb from the Clove oil. As Melinda
rubbed the oil into Kate’s bottom Kate felt her hind cheeks relax. The
oil was a muscle relaxant, Melinda told her. “Anti-inflammatory too, to
help you recover from your burny welts.” The peppermint oil left Kate’s
bottom feeling pleasantly cool. Yet Kate didn’t like any of this, she
told herself, having herself spread out naked on a table and her bottom
paid so much attention. She sobbed quietly, remorsefully.
Kate sniffled as she sobbed. Eunice put a hot towel to Kate’s
face and made Kate blow her nose into the towel. John, meanwhile, felt
insprired. He presented his cock to Kate’s mouth after her nose had
been wiped and made her take it. Kate found herself involuntarily
sucking him, but there was nothing she could do. She huffed and puffed
over his huge penis as, behind her, Melinda made her wince with new
applications of the Peppermint oil.
John showed little interest in conserving his seed. He forced
Kate to suck him, taking occasional intimate photographs of her
efforts. When he felt like cumming he simply shot himself into her.
Then he withdrew and took photos of her cum-dripping mouth. Kate
agonized over her bottom as more splashes of oil were poured onto it.
Melinda didn’t bother to describe each oil to Kate. Some were sweet,
almost harmless, while others seemed deliberately bitter.
Eunice wiped the sperm from Kate’s face when John was through
phtographing her oral denoument. Melinda, meanwhile, to finish Kate’s
treatment, applied Rose oil to her fanny. “This one is an
antidepressant,” Melinda told Kate. “Just in case you’re feeling down.
It also serves as an aphrodesiac, so don’t blame yourself if you start
feeling sexy!”
Kate wept loudly. She didn’t want to be sexy. She just wanted
to go home to her own dorm room at her college, where all her friends
were, and snuggle up in her bed by herself and never, ever go on such a
wild partying spree again. Yet, with Eunice wiping her face, she felt
sure John had more plans for her. Worse ones, perhaps, than she’d
already endured.
Kate was taken back downstairs to the cellar. She was collared
and her collar, which was a simple dog’s collar, was tethered to the
wooden post. She was given a waterbowl to drink from, and a small bowl
of broken up bits of cheese and bologna. She was told to relax on the
pillows, tummy down, bottom up. She was handcuffed, with her hands
behind her, to keep her from pleasuring herself if she should feel
randy. And then, cuffed and collared, she was left by John and
Melinda. Eunice promised to check up on her during the night. John and
Melinda told her they were going upstairs to sleep.
In the morning Kate’s bowl was cleaned by Eunice. Kate had
eaten nothing during the night. Now, as she lay hungry over the
pillows, she watched as Eunice transferred a ham and egg omlette from a
silver tray into Kate’s doggie bowl. Kate’s hands were freed so that
she could eat from the bowl kneeling on all fours. John came
downstairs, looking and feeling refreshed, with Melinda beside him. He
photographed Kate as she ate like a dog and drank from her water bowl.
Eunice poured coffee into Kate’s water bowl to accompany her omlette.
Afterward Kate was forced to kneel before John and, wincing every time
she moved, for her bottom still hurt, Kate was forced to catch in her
mouth seedless grapes that John and Melinda tossed at her.
Kate was taken upstairs. Outside it was a dreary morning.
Rain drizzled over the lawn. Melinda had Kate come out back with her
and go swimming with her in John’s heated pool. The two girls swam in
the nude as John watched from the porch. At Melinda’s encouragement,
the two girls practised their diving. They competed with each other in
dog paddling races across the length of the pool. Melinda allowed Kate
a head start because her wounded bottom still pained her whenever she
moved. The girls played with a big beach ball. They tossed it back and
forth to each other, standing in the shallow end of the pool with their
bare bodies exposed to the chilly rain.
When John felt ready, he ordered both girls out of the pool.
He told them to kneel in front of him. They obeyed, and Kate found
herself admiring anew John’s penis. It was big and strong and it pulsed
with his need. He fed it first to her and then, holding in his seed, he
fed it in turn to Melinda. He alternated between the two girls, giving
each of them equal time with his prick. Sometimes he stopped and
bantered with them, letting his organ rest lest he blow himself away
before he felt ready. Finally, when he couldn’t stand his need anymore,
he stuffed himself into Kate’s mouth, almost choking her. He thrust
into her throat and, stabbing in and out of her deeper depths, he
discharged his seed into her. Kate gasped for air when he finally drew
himself out of her. Cum splashed down over her cheeks and chin and ran
down her neck and speckled her boobs. Melinda turned Kate’s face to her
own and, with John perfunctorily commanding it, for Melinda apparently
already knew what he wanted, she licked Kate’s face clean.
Kate was left unmolested for the rest of the day. Eunice
offered to teach Kate piano. Kate found herself sitting bare-assed
naked on a soft cushion on a wooden piano bench, with Eunice beside
her. A fire blazed nearby, warming Kate sufficiently. Kate was made to
play chopsticks and other simple songs as John, sitting nearby in an
overstuffed chair, relished the rise and fall of her nude breasts.
“We will discipline your breasts this evening,” John warned
Kate. She might have replied in the negative. But after John spent in
her mouth out by the pool he’d forced her to accept a black gag. It was
made of soft felt. Kate didn’t like it. Nonetheless, she was
determined to wear it as gracefully as she could. She was beginning to
respect her captors. She was given leave to explore the house on her
own, and even to pick flowers in the back yard, when the rain let up,
provided she kept on her collar and dutifully wore the gag.
At lunch Melinda pulled Kate’s gag down to her throat. She
spoon fed Kate. It was a lunch of yogurt and brie cheese. They drank
wine. Kate relished the smoothe feel of the wine as it slid down her
throat for it promised to ease a little the sting in her bottom, which
still hurt. After lunch she was re-gagged. They played Scrabble, lying
nude on the floor in the living room. Only sexy or dirty words were to
be used. Frequently Kate had to resort to a nearby paperback dictionary
to look up words. She used “condom,” and “flagellate,” and “discipline”
to win rounds for herself. All the while John teased her about her
breasts, watching her lying on them with her chin up, supported by her
fist, so that her bosoms pillowed her. Whenever Kate lifted herself up
her bosoms would reveal themselves, sometimes right down to her wiggly
nipples. John stroked himself occasionally, and Melinda masturbated a
little. They encouraged Kate to but they didn’t force her. Near the
end of the game, Kate sat up and, just to appear good, she sat on the
floor with her legs crossed and played in her slit with her fingers.
John smiled and told her he’d go easier on her breasts when he punished
them after dinner.
“Why must they be punished?” Kate wanted to ask. But she could
only look at him with her wide blue eyes and frig herself. Her fingers
became visibly wet with herself, and Melinda smiled at the appearance of
dew on the lips of Kate’s cunt.
The dress bound the woman from her throat to her toes. She had
long brown hair, pinned up neatly but loosely, as if she’d been
interrupted. She smiled at Kate. Her dress, which held her tight as
paint on a vase, was jet black. It was sleeveless, so the woman wore
opera-length gloves on her arms. The dress dipped down in an inverted
decollette arch, showing her bosoms, almost to the tips of her nipples,
yet a collar that was part of the dress itself bound her throat. The
dress was so tight that, looking at the woman, Kate fancied she saw the
indentation where her navel was. And, as the woman gazed at Kate, all
sweetness and full of welcome, her nipples rose through the sheer fabric
of her dress.
The woman turned around. Her dress was slit up each side. As
she turned on her long stiletto heeled pumps her legs were bared by the
swirl of her dress. She had breathtaking legs, which supported, as Kate
saw, a firm round adorable bottom. Her back was bare. The black dress
dipped so low that it showed more than half her bottom crack, exposing
her softly clenching cheeks. There could be little doubt, once you saw
this elegantly dressed creature from behind, what the night portended.
In response John, who was standing beside Kate, holding her gently,
popped a boner. Melinda glanced down at John’s newly risen crotch and
giggled, though Kate thought she detected a trace of envy in Melinda’s
laugh. Despite Melinda’s beauty, she and John had been living together
for some time. Men always proved most responsive to a brand new
conquest, Kate reminded herself.
Kate was still in that category for John. She wore her dog’s
collar around her throat and, when she and John stepped into the home,
all the guests could see that she was handcuffed by one of her hands to
John’s left wrist. Melinda travelled uncuffed at his right. She
carried in her purse a small collection of John’s newly developed
photos.
It was a beautiful house. Kate permitted herself to gaze
about. She felt scared and lonely and her pussy was hot, thanks to her
masturbating, but she tried to relax and to convince herself that John
wouldn’t punish her breasts.
Drinks were served. The other guests, there were perhaps 20,
gathered in the living room and exchanged small talk. Little mention
was made of Kate’s being handcuffed to John. It was all taken in
stride. Kate looked adorable in a short dress and blouse, both made of
fine cloth, one dark lavender and the other a lighter shade of violet.
She had frilled ankle socks on and graceful Jelly pumps, their long
spiked heels reinforced to loft her up on her tiptoes. She wore a tight
corset under her blouse, hidden there beneath her kid-like clothes,
which lifted up her breasts almost obscenely but failed to cover her
nipples. She wore no panties and her corset had no stockings to attach
its base to. It left her pussy as exposed as her nipples. But nobody
knew, gazing casually at her, for she was young and perhaps they thought
she had high-perched breasts, which were high but not quite as high, in
real-life, as the corset made them look, pushing them up rudely to show
off her nipples the minute her blouse was removed.
And Kate had no doubt that it would be. They were to spend the
night, and her nipples were to feature prominently in the evening’s
festivities, though nobody knew that yet, just that John had brought her
for everyone to play with.
“Some old faces, some new faces, eh John?” A man who introduced
himself to Kate’s master said.
“Who’s the bombshell hostess?” John asked.
“A gal who’s new. To our area, not the scene,” Rex replied.
“Who’s your little friend here?” His eyes passed to Kate’s prominent
breasts.
“Just a toy,” John said. He tugged at the collar around Kate’s
neck. He grinned at Rex. “Don’t ask her to sit down.”
Rex’s eyes widened. “She’s spirited, eh?” he asked.
“She deliberately dropped one of my best tea cups,” Melinda
said, though she hardly looked upset about it and her voice trailed away
absently as the hostess offered her a flute of wine.
“Your dress is simply gorgeous,” Melinda complimented their
hostess.
“Thanks. I look better without it, though,” the hostess, who
was named Ruth, repliled. “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh,” Melinda answered, turning her head back toward Kate.
“Just some teenager John’s breaking in.” She leaned forward and
whispered something into Ruth’s ear. Ruth’s eyes grew wider and they
both shared a secretive giggle. Kate, overhearing, tried not to blush,
though she feared they were talking about her.
The small talk continued. Everyone met everyone else and,
underneath their pleasant remarks, they sized each other up for the
evening’s games. Finally Ruth went over to Kate and, touching her
politely on the shoulder, she said, in front of everyone, “I hear you
were very brave last night. Could you show us what John did to you?”
Kate gulped. Everyone, all the woman as well as the men in the
room were looking at her. She let Ruth turn her around and then, with
all eyes pasted on her from behind, Ruth gently lifted Kate’s skirt and
showed them her bare bottom.
A gasp went up from the crowd. Kate’s bottom, which they all
instantly praised as adorable, had been marked quite distinctly by a
birch. Melinda took credit for the marks. Everyone wanted to feel them
and Kate was forced to suffer the indignity of a thousand fingers all
nimbly touching her heinie. A few insinuated themselves naughtily into
her crack. Others, particularly, it seemed, the long-nailed female
fingers, actually passed between her legs and felt up her lovelips.
They came away wet, for Kate was still aroused from her masturbating.
John and she and Melinda had ended their session of scrabble without
permitting themselves to cum. It had been a plan, Kate figured now, to
make her more receptive. Her cunny was too hungry for her to flee the
seeking hands which explored her. They gave her rump admiring pats and
praised her for taking her punishment like a grown up girl. Ruth,
boldly, when everyone had felt up Kate as much as they pleased, bent
over and kissed Kate’s behind.
“I hope that makes it a little better,” Ruth told Kate. She
restored Kate’s dress. Kate thought herself free of the press of hands
and eyes but then Ruth, taking the zipper at the back of Kate’s dress,
said to her: “You’re bottom’s just too pretty to keep hidden.
Especially with such fine marks on it. May I undress you?” And,
without waiting for Kate to answer, though she did pause, though only to
smirk confidentially at the other guests, Ruth took down Kate’s dress.
A quick zip left it unable to remain at Kate’s hips and when Ruth drew
her fingers away, it fell to Kate’s knees, where Kate caught at it with
her hand. Ruth freed the dress from Kate’s fingers and let it fall down
to her ankles. “Step out of it, please,” Ruth told Kate. She lifted
Kate’s hand and made the girl step out of her skirt.
In doing so Kate was aware of the dangling of her corset’s
straps. They should have attached to long stockings, but John had given
her only little girl’s socks to wear, frilled socks that rose only as
high as her ankles. Kate observed the men’s eyes on her straps. They
were slender and delicate and obviously made to attach to something, yet
they wiggled with her every smallest movement. The two in front framed
her blonde bush, swaying in front of it and inviting the eyes to center
upon it. In back, her bottom was framed by two more unattached straps.
Like little thongs they danced over her whip-marked bottom, as if to
give it new stripes.
Kate, still handcuffed to her master, tossed her blonde head as
casually as she could and tried not to think of all the eyes on her
fanny. She was proud of her bottom, in an odd, feminine sort of way.
Proud of how all the men, and not a few women, gazed at her nether
cheeks in admiration. It wasn’t often you could show off your bottom in
public, Kate reminded herself, trying to suppress the butterflies that
rose up in her tummy. Yet, when you were young, and beautiful, wasn’t
it something you should wish to do? Kate gave her heinie a wiggle and
watched the other guests respond. She was a fish, leading a school of
fish in the ocean, her flipping tail making all the others follow.
“God, if it wasn’t marked already,” a young man sighed. He
looked wealthy and spoiled and Kate took an instant liking to him. He
seemed to have eyes filled with fire and Kate guessed his veins were
just as arduous, right down to the ones that ridged the thing in his
pants which now stood up quite plainly, making him a little embarrassed
as he stood amongst his fellows. Then Kate saw her admirer’s eyes pass
over to the waist of the hostess. Kate leaned back a little and saw
that there was a competitor for the room’s eyes. The hostess, in
bending over to kiss Kate’s fanny, had revealed more of her own rump.
Her dress was so tight and cut so low in back that when she bent her
bottom had arched up out of her gown. Now it stuck out quite
completely, with her tight gown bunched underneath it. Unless she
reached back and put a finger into her dress and lifted it up back over
herself, the hostess would have a bare bottom for the rest of the
night. Kate waited for the hostess to repair her dress. But she
didn’t. Instead, she went on with her duties as if nothing had
happened. She took a fresh bottle of wine from an ice bucket and had a
man uncork it for her. Then she filled the glasses of those guests that
looked empty, waiting while a few guests hastily downed what they’d
already been given.
“We must be in high spirits for the evening,” the hostess
laughed. Her nipples were risen through her expensive dress. It clung
to her belly and thighs so liquidly that Kate felt the woman’s pussy was
almost on display. Where her thighs met the hostess’ dress dipped
inward, then rose a little to show the outline of her bush. While the
effect had always been present, the fact that the hostess was now
disordered in back seemed to deepen Kate’s awareness of it. She felt so
teased by the woman’s attire that she wanted to run over to her and rip
off her dress. She felt a strange desire to lick the woman’s bush and
pass her tongue up between her lovelips and make the hostess as aroused
as Kate herself was feeling.
The hostess came around to where John and Melinda and Kate were
standing, talking with Rex and the young man whom Kate admired for
having such fiery eyes. He introduced himself to her as Ken. Kate
liked the fact that both her name and his began with the same letter.
He seemed to want to stare at her bare pussy but he kept his eyes aloft,
at the level of her eyes, though sometimes he did allow them to fall to
the level of her breasts. Kate’s corset, which everyone now knew she
wore, pushed her bosoms up high. Her nipples presented themselves to
him through the thin fabric of her blouse. It was a blouse that a
little girl might wear, frilled at the edges, with short sleeves that
were too short, hugging her upper arms where they joined to her
shoulders. It dipped in front, but modestly had a slim-ribboned bow
tied between her uplifted breasts. Ken, clearly a little nervous at
touching her in the presence of her master, as he talked to Rex, reached
out and yanked on Kate’s blouse-bow and undid it.
“Hey, those breasts are mine to torture,” John said to Ken.
“Torture? I should want to defend them then,” Ken replied.
His resolve to have her seemed to stiffen in the face of another male’s
open resistance.
The hostess, perhaps sensing the start of a dispute between two
of her males, appeared before John with her wine bottle in hand. “It’s
been awhile since I’ve been marked,” she said to John softly, meeting
his darkening eyes with her own deep blue pair. To Kate they looked
like pools in which anyone might be lost, male or female, and she felt
again her desire to know this woman as she had not known any other.
Perhaps it was simply the wine, for when the hostess had
refilled John’s glass she turned to Kate, nudging Ken back, and told
Kate to drink what was in her glass so she could add this new, different
brand.
Kate sipped her glass as quickly as she could. Ken’s eyes
flashed at John and John’s flashed back. Sensing a battle still
brewing, the hostess reached out and touched Kate’s pubic hair with her
fingers. Kate started. Wine spilled down her chin and fell in drops
onto her blouse. The hostess ran her fingers freely through Kate’s bush
and then tugged on its springy hairs, invitingly, as if to ask Kate to
follow her to bed.
No one else saw, except John who was standing right next to
her. Ken had turned away. The young male defeated by the older, vowing
revenge. As Kate withstood the hostess’s exploration of her private
hair, she passed her hand across to John to steady herself. As it
happened her hand fell upon his crotch. And no wonder, it was sticking
out quite markedly, offering an easy handhold for searching female
fingers. Kate gripped it, only to keep her balance as the hostess’s
fingertips explored her. But in gripping it she felt it rise, bulge
more. John’s cock stiffened and she wondered absently if he was issuing
pre-cum into his underpants. She felt her own dew moisten her
cuntlips. The hostess wet her fingertips on Kate’s sex and then, after
bathing in Kate’s excitement for a moment, withdrew. The hostess put
her fingertips to Kate’s lips.
“You are wet,” the hostess said to Kate. She made Kate taste
herself and passed her fingers around Kate’s lips, glossing them with
the dew from her cunt, a kind of natural lipstick.
Jealously Kate watched as Ken was engaged by another female.
She had a very short miniskirt and long black boots on. Her top was a
midriff that showed her belly. She had seductively innocent pigtails,
created by bows tied into her hair. Openly she offered her hand to
Ken’s crotch. He let her massage his thing.
The crowd was growing more physical in its admiration of one
another. Hands that had heretofore remained quiet now whispered over
breasts and delved between legs. The men became visibly uncomfortable
in their pants as their cocks grew huge and had noplace to go. The
females all sprouted nipples, those with thin blouses, while Kate
guessed the others were just as excited but restrained by their bras.
Men and women who had not known each other’s names an hour
before now kissed, openly, in front of their wives or girlfriends or
husbands. Kate watched as Ken’s fly was unzipped and the woman in the
black boots drew him out to his full length. Nobody seemed to mind that
his penis was on display. A jewel of precum at the tip of his rod,
where he might have peed if he wished, issued forth. It grew heavy on
the tip of his cockhead and drooled in a long drop to the floor. The
woman in the boots smiled at Ken. She rubbed his shaft and invited him
to cum in her hand if he wished.
‘You are young,’ her eyes seemed to say. ‘You have plenty and
I know you can go all night. Don’t torment yourself with your
abundance. Spurt it out if you wish to.’
Though she was no older than Ken the young woman in the boots
seemed to have a taste for decadence far beyond what Ken was used to.
His eyes expressed shock that she would take him this far this quickly,
right in front of everyone, with the others still petting and kissing.
The girl in the boots simply smiled reassuringly. Helpfully she cupped
her other hand under his cockhead, while still rubbing his shaft.
Ken tried to step back. He didn’t want to lose himself so
quickly.
“No!” the girl in the long black boots said sharply to him, as
if he were a randy dog. Except she wanted his sperm. She did not have
a desire to push him away, as a female might, finding a dog rubbing up
against her leg. Instead, she wanted to see him satisfied. She clung
to the root of his penis with her fingers, while still offering a
cupping place for him to spurt with her other hand.
Kate, still having her lips lightly rubbed by the hostess, one
hand rubbing her mouth while the other sought between her legs, watched
Ken and prayed he held on to himself. As she prayed she felt her own
legs offer a new sprinkling of dew. And Ken, not knowing of her own
offering, suddenly jetted his sperm into the hand of the girl wearing
the boots. She frisked his stiff rod and accepted his liquid manhood
into her palm. Ken looked down at himself. He was clearly embarrassed
by his eruption but there was nothing he could do now. All was lost, or
gained, for his face puffed with pleasure as he spurted himself into the
girl’s hand. She rubbed him until he had no more to give. Then, as if
to tease him, she lifted her cupped palm to her mouth and quietly licked
at his profusion. Ken watched as she fed upon his seed. It made her
mouth gooey and sticky. Her tongue became coated with what had been,
just moments before, in his balls.
Kate arched her hips forward. She offered her slit to the
hostess’s questing hands, so inspired was she by Ken’s offering. She
opened her mouth and sucked in one of the hostess’ fingers.
“Mmmm, yes little sweet, are you excited?” the hostess asked
Kate. She still didn’t know the woman’s name, yet she now had one of
the woman’s fingers in both her pairs of lips. Kate tried to fuck
herself on the inquiring finger at her dell. The hostess drew it back a
little, teasingly, not letting Kate have it. She lifted her hand and
pried Kate’s lips apart and withdrew her finger from Kate’s mouth.
“I want marks like you have,” the hostess said to Kate.
“Come.” She drew Kate along, crossing the room, with her bottom bulbing
out of her tight-fitting dress. Wherever Kate went, John was sure to
follow. He watched with admiration as the hostess led him and his
slave. He had a choice of bottoms, one marked, one unmarked, and his
penis stood up in his pants as best it could, snarled in his underpants
but nonetheless presenting a clear picture of his manliness.
There was a curtain and the hostess drew it open. Kate had
thought it to be a curtain hiding a window. But instead it proved to be
a small alcove, built into the wall, perhaps for the purpose of housing
a television. There was no television there, however, but instead, on
empty shelves where a T.V. and VCR and discplayer might have stood,
there was an array of sex toys. Kate gasped as she saw fake penises
displayed on a shelf. They were various sizes and they looked to her
like missiles waiting to be put into silos. There was a pile of
condoms, all unwrapped and waiting like coins. Some were red and some
blue and some clear. Beside the pile of condoms was an assortment of
bottles. One said ‘KY’ and another, ‘vaseline,’ and others had brand
names on them. But all served one purpose: to lubricate inaccessible
places so they could be more easily entered.
“Help yourself, everybody,” the hostess invited. Several
riding crops waited and the hostess selected one, a particularly thin
one which Kate knew would leave sharp marks. She pressed it into Kate’s
hand and looked at John.
“I want her to beat me,” she said to John. “Right on my
bottom. And I want you to watch, and play with yourself while she does
it.”
“You don’t want me to flog you?” John asked.
“no,” the hostess replied, her voice so soft it was barely
audible. She gulped. Then she continued, “You would be too gentle.
She is inexperienced and she will make it hurt more.”
“But your bottom is...” John said, passing his hand behind her
and feeling what she was offering him.
“No prettier than hers, and look how you marked her,” the
hostess replied to John.
“Yes, but she is new and must be trained,” John answered. “I
was simply training her, so she can know what a man might do to her if
she surrenders herself to someone who is truly a fiend for it, you know,
someone she meets dancing by herself in a club. And I didn’t do her,
Melinda did, and women are always harder on each other than even the
worst of us men. Still, it wasn’t too bad, hmmm?” he glanced quickly at
Kate. She lowered her eyes submissively, liking the attention her
bottom was getting. It was the subject of conversation at an elegant
party and she knew people could overhear his question to her as the
guests crowded around to help themselves to the sex toys.
“It hurt,” Kate pouted. “It still hurts... a little,” Kate
continued. “Especially if I sit down.” She felt marvelously spoiled
and her pussy was wet and she licked her lips and tasted herself.
Bondage was strange, she thought. It made you feel yourself in new
ways, especially in your private parts. She’d lain with boys before,
but she’d never felt so aware of her bottom, her breasts. She longed to
have teeth applied to her nipples and to be made to scream. She wanted
to feel her belly invaded and she felt a need to have something inserted
into her ass. Anything, it didn’t matter. She wanted to give herself
up, to be taken and pried open and filled. She would be a receptacle,
like the hand of the girl with the boots, except she would keep what was
put into her, forced into her, and she would incubate it.
As it happened she was handed a riding crop and forced to
assume the role of a dominatrix. John, clearly aroused at the thought
of seeing the hostess’s pale white bottom whipped, unlocked himself from
Kate to set her free. Kate was left standing with a handcuff dangling
from her right wrist. She was attached to no one now, a liberated
slave. She still wore her collar but she was expected to act as
something other than a captive. She must lead instead of merely
accepting and responding. She didn’t like her new role. It forced her
to think. She decided to revenge herself upon the woman who’d placed
her in this new position.
“Come,” she said to the hostess. “I’ll give you want you want
then, for you’ve taken my master from me.” John was ablaze with lust,
and, offered the sight of seeing the hostess’s bottom whipped, Kate knew
he could not be dissuaded from it. He zipped down his zipper, rather
pathetically, Kate thought, for should not a woman do it for him? He
pried within his pants with his fingers to get his dick out. Kate
wanted to help him but he worked quickly, obviously desperate. A moment
later, saved from untold internal damage by being so trapped, his organ
sprang out. Its size spoke volumes to his desperation to free it. He
was a tremendous length and his width was superb. The hostess, seeing
what she’d gotten herself into, gasped with delight and a touch of
alarm.
“You are very well equipped, sir,” the hostess said to John.
“Put your hands in your dress,” Kate snapped. The hostess
looked at her, surprised for a moment, then remembered she was no longer
in charge. Obeying Kate’s command was simple. She slipped her hands
within the slits along the sides of her dress. “Rub yourself, your
pussy,” Kate told the hostess. “Do it like when you were a little girl
and used to dream of men’s penises, and wonder how big they were.” The
hostess bit her lip. Then, moving her wrists within in dress, she began
to arouse herself.
“Come, let’s get you to a bedroom,” Kate said. She pushed the
hostess ahead of her and ordered her to keep rubbing herself as they
walked. With a strange sense of satisfaction, Kate watched as the
hostess frigged herself, still in her elegant gown, as the three of them
left the living room and entered a hallway. Kate didn’t understand why
she felt enjoyment at dominating another woman, but it did make her feel
powerful and happy. Behind her John followed with his cock stiffly
bobbing in the air.
“Not your bedroom,” Kate said to the hostess as they passed the
first door in the hall. She did not want the hostess to bring her
master into her own domain, where Kate would be but a spare wheel.
Better, Kate thought, to punish the hostess in a guest bedroom. Kate
glanced at the room beyond the first door. It stood open invitingly.
Inside was a bed. That was all that was needed, Kate thought. “In
here,” she said to the hostess. She thought the woman looked a little
abject, standing in the hallway dutifully masturbating herself beneath
her gown. Her brown hair was looser than ever, barely held up now by
the pins she’d inserted into it. Kate felt a longing to see both the
hair on the woman’s head and that between her legs. The hair fringing
her pussy would be wet, Kate knew. She took the hostess by the arm and
escorted her into the bedroom.
“Undo the bed,” Kate ordered. The hostess walked up to the
bed, her hands still between her legs. Then she removed them to draw
down the cover. The bed looked soft and comfortable but Kate knew the
woman would find little but pain in it, at least in the beginning. When
the bed was prepared the woman turned to face Kate. Quietly, at a frown
from Kate, she returned her hands beneath her dress and played with her
pussy again.
Kate approached her victim. The woman was older than herself
by at least five years, maybe more, but Kate felt confident that she
could handle her. “Tell me your name at least,” Kate said to the
woman. Kate was shorter than her victim and had to look up at her. The
woman, staring down at Kate, bit her lip, unwilling to tell her name
though she already had shown Kate so much else. Then, thinking a
moment, she made up a name, Kate guessed.
“Rose,” the woman answered.
Kate let her keep her real name private. “Turn around, Rose.
Get up on the bed and show me your ass. Would you like me to rip your
dress off?”
“N-Nooo, I’ll take it off,” Rose answered. Kate waited
politely as Rose undressed. She knew how expensive dresses were and she
didn’t want to harm the woman’s gown. It was a benefit, Kate thought,
of being punished by a woman. A man wouldn’t have waited. He’d have
flung his victim on the bed and tore her clothes off. But Kate was not
one to relish domination. She could wait.
Rose had difficulty getting her tight-fitting gown off. Kate
had to lay her riding crop on the nightstand and help her. When the
dress was finally off Kate carried it to a closet and hung it up for
Rose. She knew it was wrong for a Domme to help her victim in this way
but she liked being of service. It was a lovely dress and she enjoyed
feeling it and hanging it up. She turned back to face the bed and the
task she’d been given. Strangely, Rose, who’d volunteered herself for
such an adventure, stood by the bed like an uncertain girl. She had her
hands over her pussy but she was not rubbing it.
“Let me see your pussy,” Kate said in a breathy voice to the
woman. She felt an unusual passion flow through her when Rose removed
her hands. A lovely dell presented itself, with rich brown hair
sprouting thickly between Rose’s bare thighs. Kate thought she caught a
scent of the woman’s arousal. Kate moved forward and stood before Rose,
closely, and put her hand on Rose’s pussy just as Rose had done to her
out in the living room. “Are you ready?” Kate asked, picking up the
riding crop from the nightstand with her other hand. Glancing sideways
at the implement Rose replied,
“Yes.”
“Then get up on the bed for me. Put your head on the pillow,
face down, and lift up your ass so I can whack it properly,” Kate
ordered. Both she and Rose glanced at John as soon as she’d spoken. He
was in full ardor, his penis sticking forth mightily and his hand
rubbing himself with schoolboy passion.
“Try not to cum until I give you permission,” Kate said quietly
to John. Her mouth hung open when she was finished speaking. She
looked as if she were trying to insult him but in fact she merely
hungered to fit him into her somehow, into her small mouth and down her
receptive swanlike throat. His collar bound her neck. His handcuffs
dangled from her wrist. His marks, delivered by his lover Melinda,
decorated her bottom.
“Take your blouse off,” John told Kate. “I want to see your
tits bounce around when you flog her.”
Rose breathed softly into Kate’s hair and quested down around
Kate’s waist for permission to do John’s bidding. Kate didn’t resist.
She felt her blouse lifted up. She raised her arms above her head,
still holding the riding crop. Rose drew the blouse up over Kate’s
face. For a moment Kate couldn’t see, her nipples wiggling where the
tight blouse had passed over them. She clutched her riding crop and
waited. The blouse lifted higher and Rose drew it up over her arms and
her hands and the riding crop. Then she folded it neatly and laid it on
the nightstand.
“My, what an intricate corset!” Rose gushed. Kate wore a
satin-colored violet corset. It shoved her breasts up obscenely, making
them look like half-squashed melons. The corset bound the undersides of
her breasts, but not her nipples. They stuck up full and round and
dollar-sized. Their shape was slightly distorted by the corset’s
hugging of her breasts. Her nipples offered themselves like thorns on a
rosebush. Placing her finger on one, Rose brushed it gently, as if
afraid she might prick herself. Kate shivered a little, feeling her
touch. It was soft, yet they both knew Kate would make this woman
scream.
Kate’s corset had taken a long time to put on. Melinda had
gotten her into it, and even punched her in the tummy to make her draw
in her breath. It left Kate feeling a little like a soldier guarding
the Queen of Enland, stiff in her posture. Melinda had threaded the
front of the corset closed like one threads up a shoe. Despite Kate’s
best efforts to hold her breath the corset had not quite closed in
front. It showed a strip of her skin down her middle, from her breasts
to her waist, and her belly button peeped out between the corset’s two
halves. Transparent black lace hung down from Kate’s corset-gripped
bosoms. And lace hung round her waist where the corset ended. She felt
like a Christmas decoration, and knew John loved the effect.
“Get on the bed, both of you!” John groaned. He had played
with himself too vigorously and he seemed on the point of spending.
“You could at least take your clothes off too,” Kate said to
John. He nodded. It seemed a good distraction for his hands. He began
removing his clothes. But when Kate and Rose walked toward him to help
him he motioned them to both get into bed.
Kate made Rose mount the bed first. She peered at Rose’s sweet
bottom as the woman climbed up onto the bed. The space between Rose’s
cleft cheeks showed briefly as Rose got on the bed. Kate told her to
crawl to the headboard and lower her head to the pillow without lowering
her bottom. Like a puppy, Rose obeyed. When she reached the headboard
she plopped her face into the pillow and prepared herself for her
spanking by gently biting it.
“Good,” Kate said. “But don’t keep your legs together. John
wants to see them wide apart and so do I. It shows off your submission
more completely.” Kate was amazed at herself as she spoke. Her voice
was firm and certain, though she felt quesy inside. Awkwardly she
climbed up onto the bed. Her tight corset inhibited her movements.
When she was on the bed she crawled forward erectly until she was behind
Rose. She moved a little to the side of Rose to better swing in the
crop.
Kate patted Rose’s ass. It was plump and round but smallish,
the kind of girlish ass men die for. “Play with your pussy. It’ll ease
the pain some,” Kate said. Rose lifted her hands and placed them
protectively over her dell.
“Don’t block my view of it. Play in it, with your fingers,”
Kate said. She gave Rose a handslap on her adorable bottom. Rose
gasped and did as she was told. “Ah, your fingers get wet right away,”
Kate observed. “Being punished excites you.”
“Being naked excites me, in front of a man like John,” Rose
answered softly. She bit more deeply into her pillow and awaited the
inevitable.
“This is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me,”
Kate said. She smiled and put her fingers into her own pussy to
stimulate herself and relieve herself a little, both at the same time.
She sighed softly. Her breasts rose and fell. Then, lifting her free
hand, she raised her arm high above her head. With an uncertain swing
she brought the crop down on Rose’s bare bottom.
“Oh!” Rose gasped, but the blow wasn’t too hard.
“We’ll be here all day if you do it like that,” John snarled.
Kate looked back at him. He was anxious for his cock. He’d strummed it
right up to the brink and could hardly enjoy himself now, for fear of
spending. Kate guessed he wanted to show his strength to Rose by
buggering her or fucking her up her well-offered cunt, if he could only
keep his sperm in himself long enough.
Rose lifted her head at the sound of John’s voice. “I don’t
wish to be fucked,” she said plainly. “That’s why I wish to be forced
to scream with the crop, and to have you watch and play with yourself as
it happens. I’m a virgin. When I find Mr. Right, then I’ll give in,
but only on my bridal bed. That’s why I like bondage. It lets me fool
around and still be pure.” She put her head down and bit the pillow
again, with a look of fright on her face lest John break all the rules
and force himself on her.
“What?!” John roared. “You--” he fell silent, speechless.
Even Kate felt dumbfounded. The woman had dressed so provacatviely, and
encouraged everyone to enjoy themselves, yet she was withholding
herself?
“I should punish you very hard for denying my master like
that,” Kate said to Rose. She looked down at the woman’s offered rump
and her exposed pussy, and her twinkling bare anal hole that showed
itself between her open cheeks.
“Yes, hard enough at least to mark me,” Rose said. “So I have
a souvenier of the night.”
“Your bottom will be quite a souvenier then!” Kate shouted, her
voice highpitched. She brought her arm swinging down across Kate’s
fanny and gave her an ass-thumping blow.
“Yeeeoww!” Rose said between clenched teeth as she bit into her
pillow. A mark formed across Rose’s bottom, marring the perfect
splendor of her white cheeks.
“Give it to her good,” John growled. Kate heard a slight sense
of relief in his voice, though, and realized John intended on shooting
out his cum as he watched. Kate looked back at him over her shoulder.
“Try not to spill on her nice carpet,” Kate said to John. “Get
a cup or something.”
“Fuck you!” John shouted. “Are you in cahoots with her? Two
women can never be trusted. I should punish you both myself. And fuck
you.”
“Just watch as I make her look as wealed on her bottom as I
am,” Kate sniffed. She was beginning to find John a bother. She liked
his rough-and-ready attitude but she didn’t want him controlling her
relationship with Rose. She liked having this lovely woman ass-up in
front of her, especially since she was like a nun, still a virgin, being
whipped, it seemed, for her sinful thoughts.
Kate slammed another blow into Rose’s heinie. Rose bounced on
her knees and rubbed herself furiously. “Ohhh, not too many of those,
please,” Rose said when she’d caught her breaath. Kate laughed at the
woman, so penitent, yet afraid of her requested punishment all the same.
“God will do as God will do, and me too!” Kate chimed. She
felt holy somehow, spanking this woman, making her smart and cry out.
She gave Rose another smack. The crop was thin and it left a mark like
Rose apparently wanted it to, sharp and thin and wealy-red. Kate
realized Rose had challenged herself by picking such a thin crop. She
didn’t just want to stick up her bare bottom and feel it whacked. She
wanted to push farther, to dare herself. As Kate watched, Rose rotated
her bottom obsenely and mouthed her pillow and rubbed herself and began
crying a little.
“You’ll make the pillow all wet, crybaby!” Kate admonished her
captive. It mattered not that it was Rose’s pillow in Rose’s house. It
was still a wet pillow, if Rose insisted on crying into it, and Kate
punished her for wetting the pillow with her tears.
WHACK! The crop hit distinctly across the crown of Rose’s
bottom, marring both summits with a bright red line. Rose let out a
howl and tears issued forth more freely from her sobbing eyes. Kate
struck again, careful not to hit her twice in the same spot, for she
didn’t want to truly hurt the woman, only mark her so she’d have
something to look at in the mirror the next day, when all the guests
were gone and Kate was the property of her master again.
WHACK! THWACK! Kate gulped as she realized her aim had been
off on the latest blow. She’d hit Rose twice in the same exact spot.
Rose squeezed her cheeks hard and lifted her head and screamed.
“I’m sorry,” Kate moaned. She rubbed herself as she watched
Rose twirl her bottom around and clench her cheeks together.
“No, please punish me, don’t spare me,” Rose replied. “I must
pay for not letting John fuck me.”
“Yes! Whack her ‘til she’s raw!” John ordered. Kate nodded
and purposely aimed for places she’d struck before. She flailed away,
banging her crop into Rose’s soft bottom again and again. Rose howled
and shook her head, her hair falling free. She mooned Kate with her
cheeks, sticking her ass back at her tormentress. She farted once,
making Kate pause and draw back and pass her hand in front of her nose
to fan away the scent of Rose’s hole. Kate made Rose pay for the fart
with a verticle blow straight down the middle of Rose’s bottomcrack.
Rose shrieked and sobbed loudly. Yet she kept her fingers on her
honeyed pussy, frigging it with a strange kind of painful pleasure.
At last Kate couldn’t bear to hit Rose anymore. She was afraid
if she struck one of Rose’s rising weals she’d draw blood. She tossed
the crop completely off the bed so she wouldn’t be tempted to use it
again, no matter what. She glanced back at John. He’d cum at some
point, groaning loudly, but she’d been too busy with Rose to bother
herself watching him. He’d retreated to a comfy chair now, sitting on
it bare-assed, with the remnants of his manhood puddling the carpet and
slowly sinking into it.
“Don’t whack my bottom please, John,” Kate told him. John
nodded mutely. He seemed to have lost some of his fire. He still
played with himself, waiting for his strength to return so he could
rejoin the fun.
Kate untied her corset. She yanked on its gripping shell to
get it sufficiently open so that she could bend down. Then she bent and
sniffed Rose’s bottom. She had a strange desire, and she knew if she
hesitated she would never fulfill it. She extended her tongue. She
clapped her hands to Rose’s bottom to still its movements. Rose
shrieked at the sudden pressure on her raw heinie. Even the touch of
another female hurt now.
“Quiet. I’m going to make you a little better,” Kate told
Rose. Then, curling her tongue, she stuck it boldly into the valley
between Rose’s cheeks. She knew what she was looking for and she
quickly found it. She spread Rose wide, fighting the woman’s desire to
close herself off in back, and rimmed Rose’s anal hole with her tongue.
“I’m going in,” Kate said breathlessly, and did her best to penetrate
the virgin sphincter. She was astonished at herself, but she
persevered, and she wondered if Rose was as astonished as she herself
was. She delved with difficulty into Rose’s anus. It was tight, but
Kate was determined. “Spread, spread. Open, open. Stop fighting me!”
Kate breathed aloud. Then she stabbed at Rose’s virgin hole again and
felt her tongue slide inside.
“Oh, only my husband must do that to me,” Rose wailed. But she
relaxed her burning cheeks sufficiently for Kate to make headway. Kate
tasted the inside of Rose’s hole and stabbed at her like an Indian
raping a white woman. “No, no, no, no,” Rose wailed, but she only
tightened her bottom a little and Kate was able to yank her cheeks apart
when she did.
In and out Kate moved her tongue. She fucked Rose’s hole with
her small little tongue as eagerly as John would have with his big
penis. Rose sobbed in her pillow and wailed that she was no longer a
virgin. Kate kept up the punishment. When she had tasted as much as
she wished she withdrew her tongue and lept from the bed. She ran into
the bathroom and opened the hot water tap and bent down and stuck her
face under the warming stream to clean it.
“Mmmm, m and m’s without the candy shell,” Kate smiled when she
returned to the bedroom. Rose sat on the bed, clutching her
tear-stained pillow to her face. She sat on her bottom protectively,
obviously fearing a new assault. John stood, his cock newly risen and
ready for action.
“We need to put some cream on your bottom to repair the skin,”
Kate said to Rose.
“I know,” Rose answered. “Did you cum tongueing me?”
“Not, not quite,” Kate said. “I was too busy holding you
open.”
“I came,” Rose said. “Let me tongue you to orgasm and then you
can attend to my bottom.”
“How can you bear to sit on it?” Kate asked.
“I don’t want you to fuck it again!” Rose blurted.
“Okay, I won’t, skairdy-cat,” Kate replied.
“Come and lay on the bed and I’ll lick you,” Rose said.
Kate obliged. Rose lay on top of her and kissed her face.
Then she slid down her body, slowly, kissing her risen tits and even
biting them a little, so that Kate was forced to cry out. Rose licked
Kate’s belly button, as if to fuck it with her tongue as Kate had fucked
Rose’s hole. Then, sliding still lower, she put her face in Kate’s nest
and slowly licked her pouty sex. John, getting on the bed behid Rose,
helpfully stroked himself to orgasm and spurted his healing cum all over
Rose’s bottom.
With a sharing of kisses and a jostling of limbs and thighs and
bosoms Kate slid out from underneath Rose. She knelt on all fours with
her bottom high, in case John should find new inspiration, for she knew
a slave’s duty was to always present herself willing and ready before
her master. Kate licked her lips to get her tongue ready. Then she
bent down and began to lick up the semen that John had so generously
provided upon Rose’s bottom.
The sperm was salty. Kate felt funny licking another woman’s
fanny but her master had chosen to deposit his sperm here and so Kate
felt it was her duty to make sure it didn’t go to waste. Sperm belonged
inside a girl, Kate told herself. So she laved Rose’s huddling bottom
with her tongue while Rose lay on her belly upon the bed, sobbing
quietly into her pillow. Every touch upon her bottom hurt. Even John’s
sperm shooting onto her bottom had made her quiver with pain. Now
Kate’s tongue, trying extra hard to be very soft and gentle, sent new
spasms of pain tremoring through her plump fanny.
“There, there, it’s not too bad,” Kate assured Rose, though she
had never been whipped as soundly as she herself had just whipped Rose.
Kate, with her bottom lofted high, still showing the fading marks of her
less severe punishment under the tree, wondered what it was like to be
so completely and thoroughly beaten. She almost wished John would pick
up the riding crop and lay it on her, vigorously and without remorse, so
she could know for herself what she’d done to poor Rose. And it was in
thinking this that she knew that John wasn’t the right man for her.
Whatever his reputation with Marie, he had failed her. He’d let her
become a mistress when all she wanted was to be a slave.
When her tummy was full of John’s sperm Kate got up from the
bed. John had sat behind her on the bed, watching her, and she gave him
a brief kiss on his smooth-shaven cheek. Precociously she gave a little
tug on his cock. It was soft and flaccid. He turned his head and
watched her as she leapt down from the bed and walked confidently toward
the door.
“Where are you going?” John mumbled. He was satisfied and
content and he didn’t bother to raise his voice for, it seemed, he
thought Kate was simply taking a moment to attend to her bladder or to
some feminine duty. But Kate, as soon as she was free of him, went out
to the living room. She hunted for her discarded skirt and blouse among
the many clothes now lying on the floor. Her blouse was under a pair of
castoff panties. She got it on and then found someone’s skirt, though
it wasn’t hers, and decided it would have to do. Someone was groping at
her ankles and wanted her to lie down with him. Kate managed to free
her leg and, getting on the skirt, slipped out the front door as quietly
and quickly as she could.
30
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-END OF 272 EMISSION
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+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /