Passion’s Playpen

Kate was taken to breakfast.  She was washed first, again in
milk, this time by the old woman, who did her hair and her face for her,
washing her like she was a small child, with Kate resisting, but not
completely, for she knew she must let the woman do her work lest she be
punished.  The woman also washed Kate’s body.  Unlike Maria, she used a
sponge.  Kate wondered if her value had somehow diminished during the
night.  Had her own performance, in the bedroom, led to her being less
favored?
Kate realized she was beginning to think like a slave.  A slave
has no will of its own.  It wishes only to please its master.  Kate
shuddered at the thought that she was falling victim to any sort of
‘hostage syndrome.’  Yet that had been the purpose, had it not, so long
ago in that carriage, that was only last evening but seemed an eternity
ago now?  To make her subservient, in love, to the will and desires of
her lover.
Yes!  She’d captured it now, and she shivered again as the
woman worked studiously to wash her, Kate standing up in the tub and the
woman kneeling before her, almost worshipfully, but washing her like a
horse or a little girl nonetheless, forcing her to part her legs,
lifting her arms, turning her to sponge her white bottom.  Kate had
committed to herself to give herself to her lover, to let him master
her, for this little while.  She wished to escape all her other roles
and just be His.  It was her gift to him, and to herself, she realized.
Here, in the tub, even in the bed, there were no rules.  Oh, it seemed
like there were, but there was really only her body and its feelings and
its desires and its sensations.  Not all were immediately pleasurable,
but surely there must be something to the crop, however awful it was.
Something to her bravery and her attempts, however feeble, to discipline
herself to take it.
And the luxury was overwhelming.  Kate had to do nothing for
herself.  She was bathed, fed, watched over.  A princess in a castle
where the servants all lived for her.  But in their own special way,
liberating her to new feelings.  Kate squirmed as she felt the woman’s
sponge pass over the marks made last night on her thighs.  The most
recent marks, in back, where her bottom curved in to meet her legs.
Yes, was there not a warmth there, imparted by the stiff leather?  Did
it not make her wet somehow, feeling it.  Didn’t it remind her of the
hardness of her lover, and of how demanding he could be?
The cucumber had been awful.  Of that she was sure.  And crazy,
almost unplanned, as if Maria simply could not control herself upon
seeing Kate’s bottom naked.  Kate touched her ass with her finger.  She
delved inside, ignoring the woman.
“You are an anal virgin?” the woman asked simply.  She paused,
watching Kate.
“I WAS an anal virgin.  Until last night,” Kate said, biting
her lip as she realized what an intimate subject she was discussing with
this woman whose name she didn’t yet know.
“You will lose all your cherries here, but gain a few weals,”
the woman laughed.  It was her first show of emotion, and her bosoms
hove within her apron, large watermelons too big and weighty and close
to the earth to delight men’s eyes, but they might have been sought
after when she was young like Kate.
“Did you ever?” Kate asked, pausing, feeling within herself to
see if her hole was okay.  It felt okay.  But it was hard, feeling her
butthole.  It was in back of her, after all!
“I do not do such foolish things,” the woman said
dismissively.  She waved her sponge in the air, flicking a little soap
onto the wall.
“But, when you were younger…” Kate offered.
“I work.  Stalin make us work.  Then I marry young.  No time
for such foolishness.  But you Americans always like sex, that’s what
they teach us in Russia.  All American girls like popping their cherries
and would corrupt Russia if it were not for Stalin.  So we were told.
Now, I think there might be girls like you in Russia, but I am there no
longer.  I am here now, and Maria pay me very well because I keep
everything tidy and clean.  And, you know, the men are not bad to look
at.  Not bad at all…” the woman said, and she smiled, but mostly to
herself.
“Have you–?” Kate asked, feeling like a small child talking to
a newly arrived grandmother.
“Ah, your lover!  Please do not ask me speak of him.  He is an
entertaining fellow!” the woman replied.  And she let her eyes dart and
her hands move in such a way that Kate guessed she’d seen his erection.
“He is, like we say in Russia, a good friend to the lady mule if the man
mule should expire.”  The woman laughed again.  Kate blushed.  Her
lover’s manhood seemed to have become public knowledge in this place.
It’s length, its thickness.  It was an admirable weapon, to be sure, but
Kate preferred that it not be made an item of gossip among the woman and
any friends she possessed.
Then Kate realized her own bosoms, her own cunt, would be added
to the woman’s stories.  What would she tell her friends back in
Russia?  “A girl, big bosoms, she likes having them hit with a crop, and
her legs too.  I had to wash her.  Such silly girls in America.  Stalin
would straighten them out but he’s dead, alas.  She has no cherries
left.  No, no.  Nothing to give to her husband.”
Kate felt her blush deepen and the woman, seeing that thier
chat had ended, opened Kate’s legs again and thrust the sponge within
and bathed Kate’s cunt as if Kate were a fish being readied for some
Russian market.  Kate was cleaned out and washed down and when the woman
was done she rinsed her with water and helped her out of the tub.  She
towled Kate down and then took her to a vanity and plopped her down in
front of it and did Kate’s hair and makeup for her.
“I can manage,” Kate said, but the woman insisted.  Kate was
only to sit and let herself be worked on.  She could do nothing
herself.  Then, when her brows had been stenciled and her eyelashes
brushed, and her hair braided, with just two braids near her cheeks,
leaving the rest hanging free, and Kate’s lips had been brightened with
lipstick, and her nipples given just a touch of rouge, as well as her
cunny lips, the woman told Kate she was ready.
But there was yet one more necessity.  “You are too free,” the
woman, who confided as she opened a slatted folding closet that her name
was Bess, said to Kate.  Within the closet, on the shelves above, Kate
saw clean white towels folded neatly for the bath.  But on the lower
shelves, here in the bathroom where she’d just been given her bath and
made up, Kate saw chains.  They were equipped with cuffs, the links slim
and the cuffs slim.  They gleamed like the silver bell had on her
nightstand beside her bed.
“I must chain your ankles and your wrists,” Bess told Kate.
“But why?” Kate asked.  She contemplated the chains with a
finger in her mouth, like a child looking at an unwanted pair of shoes,
Sunday shoes perhaps, too tight and stiff for play.
“So that only your breasts are free, and your bottom.  So they
may position you how you like and you will not be able to refuse.  Come,
you might have visited someplace else with your lover, a hotel room
perhaps, or a motel, but you chose to visit here.  Do not make me call
for help.  In Russia we girls know when we must do as we are told.”
Perhaps to please the old woman, perhaps only to test how it
felt to be in such a captive state, a prisoner, really, for they were
prison chains, though covered over in silver to make them more agreeable
to Maria’s home, Kate let herself be manacled.  Bess did her ankles
first, binding them with the cuffs so that Kate felt as if she were
wearing boots.  But they were not boots, just anklets connected by a
length of chain.  Kate tried walking a little in the anklets when the
woman had fitted them to her legs.  They jangled against the tiled
floor.
“Careful not to trip over the chain,” Bess warned Kate.  “The
chain should be shorter but they insisted you wear a long one so they
can easily spread your legs.  Keep your head down and watch the chain at
all times.  If you fall, you might be hurt, and Maria would take it very
badly.  And she would punish you after the doctor left, for you are
always to be ready for sex here, not injured and disabled.”
Kate shivered in her chains.  She lifted her wrists to her chin
and studied herself, feeling her forearms as they pillowed themselves
against her breasts.  Her nipples were stiff.  Her tummy, flat under her
bosoms, drew in a little as she held her breath.  Gently Bess turned her
so that she faced the woman.
“You are hungry for a man,” Bess said openly, noticing how
moist Kate had become between her thighs since Bess had dried her after
her bath.  Kate had not touched herself during the night, though she was
angry at her lover after her whipping across the backs of her thighs.
She had cried herself to sleep, rolling and tossing, and when once she
awoke and found in horror that her hand was between her thighs, she’d
drawn it up to her tummy and slapped it.  ‘Bad hand,’ she’d scolded
herself.  But now, letting herself be chained, probably because she was,
indeed, so thoroughly consumed with her nudity and the presence of her
lover in the house, she wished she had rubbed herself to bliss, so that
she could be more sensible now.
Bess, smiling to herself, fitted handcuffs around Kate’s
wrists.  Kate tried resisting a little but the big Russian woman had no
difficulty catching Kate’s wrists and holding them in her big old hands,
thick with cream to keep them from getting age spots, though they were
spotted already.  Kate felt small.  Her body was frail and she was only
5 feet 2 inches tall.  But her legs were slim, giving her a leggy,
runway model’s look.  Her bottom cheeks were distinct juddering halves,
each full and round and jutting out like a child’s.  Her hips were
slender.  Her waist was very small in circumference.  And there there
were her breasts, big and heavy and huge in proportion to the rest of
her, Playboy breasts.  Men might have dismissed her as petite, but her
breasts announced that she was not petite where it counted.  And so,
walking down the street, heads would turn, and mouths open, and a man,
busy the moment before with his thoughts and affairs, might come running
up behind her, and somehow get in front of her, just to get another look
at those delightful breasts.  And then, having satisfied his urgent need
to look, he would begin to be a little embarassed, for he was certain he
was in the presence of a schoolgirl, a minor.  Kate would smile, and
give her head a toss, letting her ponytail, which she loved wearing,
bounce across her back.  The man would grow more nervous, for everyone
could see him as he stared at this little girl walking calmly (if
bouncily) across the street, and he was sure they would think him a
pervert.
It was how Kate met her lover.  Except he, unlike the rest, had
the courage to greet her and ask her name.  She kept walking, and he had
been going in the opposite direction, but now, as she crossed the street
on her way home from school she led him right back across it.  Yet he
did not desist in his efforts to get her name, and her phone number.  So
she sat down finally, on a bench where busses stopped, and she let him
talk to her.  She pulled her ponytail round in front of her and twirled
it in her fingers.  She threaded her fingers through it, and brushed it
lightly across her breasts as he talked.  She was sure it would scare
him off, looking at her pink sweater, and her pleated skirt, and her
bobby socks.  But he carried the conversation quite nicely.  And he
discovered, of course, that she was a college girl, and quite legal
(though still too young yet to drink).  And so he dated her, and they
became lovers.
And now she was letting him take her on a wild ride she could
not have imagined two weeks ago when they met.  And she wondered,
standing there in the nude, with Bess fitting her wrists into the
chained manacles, whether she’d made the right choice.  She’d chosen him
for his boldness.  For his refusal to bend to contemporary morals.  And
now she was reaping the full harvest of that, for he was interested in
much more than just making love to her.
Yet he had been gentle, not taking her in her bottom when she
refused him there.  But, then again, here she’d been most brutally
violated, last night, with Maria shoving a cucumber up her virgin ass.
Kate wondered if she needed such bizarrreness to be able to let go and
surrender herself.  She had, indeed, a conservative upbringing.  Her
parents had not allowed her to date as much as she liked.  And now,
perhaps to catch up with where she wanted to be (did she want it?) she
was letting herself in for much more than just a cock up her ass.
“There.  You are quite captive now, my dear,” Bess said.  She
drew Kate’s hands apart so that the short chain between them became
taut.  Bess yanked on Kate’s hands to ensure they were properly locked.
The chain did not give, the cuffs did not spring apart or even hint that
they wished to.
Kate already wore earrings, new ones Bess had pinned on her at
the vanity table.  Bess tugged on Kate’s earrings.  They dangled down
almost to Kate’s shoulders and they felt heavy.  Kate hoped her lover
treated her well.  The earrings made her feel delicate, as if she might
lose her earlobes if they were pulled on too hard.  Bess batted at them,
watching as they brushed across the tops of Kate’s shoulders.  They were
ruby, matching the color of her nipples, with silver to match her
chains.
“Wait.  Let me get you something for good luck,” Bess said.
She rose and she bustled from the room.  Kate stood, hardly able to
move, she felt so weighed down by the chains, though they were light.
She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and saw a girl with radiant
blonde hair and red lips and big, wide blue eyes staring back at her.
The girl wore twin braids in her hair, decorations merely, for they left
bangs hanging down in her eyes, and loose tresses along her face, and
the bulk of her hair in back lay freely across her shoulders and back.
The braids, dropping down as far as her longest strands of hair, were
tied off at their ends by a single pink ribbon.
And Kate saw the cuffs and the chains.  The links were small
but they were chains all the same.  Kate held her wrists under her
chin.  She moved her knees and heard the links of the chain that
connected her ankles clank on the floor.  She was small, and captive,
like a little parakeet put into a cage, except the chains were her cage.
Bess returned.  She sat down again on the stool by the folding
cabinet, and she gazed like an appreciative mother at Kate standing
before her.  She reached up and clipped a necklace around Kate’s neck.
The chain was as thin as a thread and, in front, where the necklace hung
just a little below Kate’s throat, offering its centerpiece, there was a
sickle.  Not a hammer and a sickle, as Kate might have expected, but a
sickle, with a sharp-looking blade and a long, knotted handle.  Kate
felt herself swallow and the Russian woman gazed at her bare throat.
“There.  It signifies that you are ready,” Bess said.  Kate
wasn’t sure she wanted the necklace but, with her wrists cuffed in front
of her, there was no way she could reach back to get the necklace
undone.  She might have fiddled with it, and turned it backwards, with
the sickle in back and the clasp in front, pulling on it with her
fingers, but Bess was present and she did not want to offend the woman.
Marie scared her.  She did not need Bess, who was as wide as Maria was
tall, to be plotting against her also.
So she stood and let the Russian woman admire her nudity.  Bess
stroked her belly and seemed to want to gather her breasts, but Kate
kept her arms in front of them, blocking them, so the woman trailed a
finger down to her pubic thatch instead.
“They have marked you already,” Bess said, looking at Kate’s
belly, her thighs.  She had seen this earlier, no doubt, but now she
wished to admire her handiwork, the freshness of Kate’s skin, after her
bath, the chains, fitted well so that she could not escape them, the
sickle that hung from her throat.  “Sometimes I get to mark a girl,
after her bath.  But only your bottom remains to be marked now, and I am
not allowed that.  Not often, anyway,” the Russian woman observed.  “Why
did you come, you poor American girl?  In Russia we had no time for
these games when I was young.  We were smart enough to know not to seek
pain, but you American girls, I have prepared at least two dozen now,
you come here seeking pain.  Why?”
Kate stared down into the woman’s eyes as the woman lifted her
face, still brushing her big fingers in Kate’s fleecy pubis.  Kate bit
her lip and shook her head.  She did not know.  She had no answer.
“You have anesthetic at the dentist’s, and in the hospital, you
have more of that.  And you have police and safety, and yet you come
here and seek pain,” Bess said.  “Well you will get pain, my little
one.  They will take you to the barn.  I do not get to see it often but
I hear the screams.  Always the girl is gagged but if I stand close to
the barn, pretending to do my chores in the yard, I can hear her muffled
cries.  They are desperate, little one!  They sound like those of a
woman in labor.”
“Bess, are you frightening her?” Kate heard a familiar voice
ask.  Kate’s head turned sharply to her left and she saw, looming in the
doorway, Marie.  The woman wore her dark hair pinned up, as if she were
prepared for some exercise.  She had on a short black dress, but it
looked as if it had been put on only because, when the moment was ripe,
it could be quickly unzipped.  Sheathing her long legs were black
boots.  They were made of black leather, real leather, and they were
well polished.  On her arms, right up to her elbows, Marie wore leather
gloves.  A dark tie-band around the back of each of her wrists made the
gloves snug.  Up just beyond her elbow, drawstrings were drawn tight to
keep the gloves wrapped round her arms.  But, as if to permit them freer
movement, the gloves did not sheathe her fingers.  They were bare, and
in one hand Marie gripped a short whip.  Kate gasped as she saw how many
tails it had.  At least nine, with knots at the end of each.
Marie strode into the room and Kate watched as the woman’s
breasts bounced in her tight dress.  No bra, and Kate guessed no panties
either.
“Put a bit in her mouth.  I want to teach her to crawl,” Marie
told Bess.  “You will have a nice little exercise this morning, my pet,”
Marie said to Kate.
“Where is?” Kate asked.  Her voice was so tremulous she
couldn’t finish her sentence.  She gulped.  She felt her puss wetten.
She felt a deep, sensual thrill run up her spine as she stood so small
and naked before Marie.  She wished to ask for her lover, but she
couldn’t talk, she was so taken by the presence of the bold, tall woman
with the gorgeous black hair.  Both Marie and Bess gazed at her as if at
a toy.
“I bathed her, but she feels wet down there already,” Bess said
to Marie.  The Russian woman indicated Kate’s cunt and Marie, reaching
out, felt within, forcing Kate to open her thighs.
“She is excited!” Marie said happily.  “I was sure you’d
disobey and rub yourself to sleep after Cindy and I left you last
night,” Marie said to Kate.  “You are more loyal than I expected.  Some
girls must be beaten into submission.  But you are trying, dear heart,
you are trying and I am very proud of you for behaving in your bed after
I left you.”  She looked at Bess.  “Did she wet it?”
“No, ma’am, it were nice and dry this morning,” Bess answered.
“Well, she was not tied, I guess, so it is no matter.”
“She did pee in her chamber pot,” Bess said.
“Good, well we will teach her pee control later then, some
other time,” Marie said.  “Put a bit in her mouth and then have her go
sit on the potty, if she needs to, and then I’ll walk her downstairs,
doggie style, so that I can admire that cute little ass of hers!”
As Kate stood trembling, Bess took a head harness from under
the towels, in the closet, and put it around Kate’s face.  She fitted a
bit into Kate’s mouth.  Kate felt the bit lying on her tongue and it
felt hard and demanding.  Bess buckled twin straps around the back of
Kate’s head, drawing her hair out from under them first so that it would
still hang free.  When the straps were tight, Bess pushed the bit back
into Kate’s mouth, as far as it would go, so that it distorted her
cheeks and made her look like a pony.  Bess adjusted buckles on the
sides of each headstrap, making the bit tight as she could, then easing
it just a little, to give Kate a little comfort.
Kate was mortified by the head harness.  But worse, for her,
were the reins.  They made her feel like mere property.  They hung from
the sides of her harness down behind her back.  The end of each rein lay
upon the bulge of her bottom.
Kate looked at herself again in the vanity mirror.  She looked
awful!  She was made up, as if for a party, but she was totally nude.
Restraints held her limbs and chains hung between them.  And worst of
all, topping it all off, a big leather head harness was buckled onto her
head, bitting her and leaving reins trailing down her back.  She was
barefoot.  She was barehanded.  Her hair hung free, and her breasts
sighed with her every breath, showing their nipples.  Yet she was as
captive as any dog, and dressed as a pony might be for the Derby.
“Come, my sweet, let’s find your master and show him how pretty
you look in your harness and chains,” Marie said to Kate, and laughed.
She ordered Kate to get down on her knees.  Animal-like, afraid to bend
down but more afraid not to, Kate got down onto the floor.  She was
aware of Bess sitting behind her, still on her stool, looking at Kate’s
bare bottom.  Maria bent and whisked the cat across Kate’s ass, quite
lightly, but making Kate start.  And then, realizing what was required,
she dashed forward on her hands and knees.
“See!  She is dutiful!” Maria laughed.  She ran after Kate and
told her to halt.  She bent and picked up the reins which trailed down
on the floor on either side of Kate’s body.  “Alright, little one, off
we go!” Maria said when she had the reins both firmly in hand.  She gave
Kate’s bottom another light brush of the cat and Kate, not waiting for a
harder stroke, bolted forward.
Kate padded down the hallway on her hands and knees.  The
carpet was plush and she felt grateful, knowing Marie must have laid a
carpet just for such pleasures.  Kate’s breasts swung beneath her.
Their tips were unbearably hard and they pointed at angles away from
each other, young breasts, full and firm and sweetly udder-like, but
unmilked, for they did not sag or droop but had a full bounciness to
them.
With her braids hanging almost to the floor and her hair
sweeping down around her slim shoulders, but her bottom and back
otherwise quite bare and revealed, Kate trundled along the floor and
negotiated her way face-first down a flight of carpeted steps.  Marie
followed, chuckling a little at how Kate’s young bottom stuck up, its
cheeks working in glossy splendor as Kate hurried along the floor.  The
carpet smelled fresh, like daisies.  Kate knew it must have just been
cleaned, especially for her, perhaps at noon before the night of her
arrival, a man working overtime to ensure it was spotless.  Kate felt
her sex, moist between her thighs, snug and purselike yet yearning to be
pierced and fed.  It showed itself from behind and Kate imagined Marie
to be watching it as Kate went down the steps.
Downstairs, at the back of the townhouse, Kate heard men’s
voices.  A hint of cigar smoke touched her nose.  Marie directed her to
crawl to her right and there, standing in front of a doorway, was her
lover.
He was awake with the morning.  Stripped naked, he stood with
his hands on his hips.  His penis arced out in front of him.  Beneath
its considerable length hung his balls, full and tight and ready.  He
did not smile at her.  He looked slightly annoyed.  But his chest was
large and broad, just as she remembered so well, and his stomach flat,
and his thighs were powerful and thick.  He gave a whistle.  A dog’s
whistle, and Kate felt herself impelled forward, Marie cracking the
reins across her back with a quick flip of her wrist.
Reaching her master, who was her lover, Kate instinctively,
though she had not ever done this before, bent her face down and kissed
his bare feet.  It was difficult for her to kiss with the bit in her
mouth but she did her best, pursing her lips over the bit and mouthing
him.
“Hey!  Stop!” Her lover, whose name was Trent, said aloud.
Kate heard laughter, male laughter, and she heard Marie giggle.
“She is a good slave,” Marie said to Trent.  “You should be
proud of her.”
“I am, but she’s getting my feet wet,” Trent said, lifting a
foot.  Kate sucked his big toe into her mouth, not knowing why, afraid,
perhaps, of what lay ahead for her.  Trent pulled his toe out of her
mouth and pointed to the doorway.
Kate crawled within.  It was a beige room, arranged with
couches but with no table, though Kate saw a breakfast tray brimming
with food and coffee sitting on an empty loveseat.  To her surprise
there were three men within.  They all had business suits on.  Kate’s
lover followed her into the room.  He sat down on a couch between two of
the men in suits.  They did not touch him, but they gazed in open
admiration at his cock.
“These are my gay friends,” Marie said to Kate, who knelt like
a puppy beside Marie’s feet, for Marie still held her reins.  “As you
know, your lover is paying me to train you.  But he will be spared a
little of the cost for allowing me to have my gay friends attend you and
he at your nude honeymoon breakfast.  Stand up, dear, go and sit on his
lap and kiss him like a young female should.”
Kate stood up and found she was wobbly on her feet, she was so
nervous.  She saw her lover smile.  Even the gay men turned to look at
her, she was so beautiful, her blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight
that pierced the window curtains, drawn closed so no one would see but
thin and gauzy, so that light could enter the room.  Kate advanced with
mincing steps toward her lover.  He gazed up at her proudly.  He felt
pleasure at seeing her encumbered like this before him, Kate saw, for
his penis, already hard, lengthened further, to a very stiff eight and a
half inches.  He delighted in her beauty and her captivity.  Kate’s
chains clinked their links together as she padded across the rug,
meekly, watching her feet so she wouldn’t trip when she wasn’t glancing
up at her lover.  The other men shared his admiration of her, and
especially, looking down at his groin, they shared their admiration for
the effect she had on him.  Kate felt like a woman great with child as
she made her way across the room all entangled and cuffed, only her
bosoms moving freely.  And she knew she was wet in her cunt, and she
wondered if the other men, and her lover, could smell her scent.
Kate settled onto her lover’s knee.  She had to sit just so to
avoid banging her legs against his erection.  He stroked her thighs and
pulled her closer and she felt her closest thigh push his erection up,
so that it stuck up at her like a flagpole.  His belly was hairy.  His
legs were hairy and their hairs pricked at her bare bottom.  Trent drew
her face to his and he kissed her nose.  Then he kissed her mouth.  He
tongued at her bit with his tongue.  She tried to respond but the bit
held her tongue down.  He grabbed at her breasts and felt their
fullness.  He kneaded the big cones of flesh and tried to prick his
thumb on her softly sharp nipples.
He seemed rougher with her than he’d ever been before.  He
squeezed her breasts hard and made her gasp, the bit stifling her little
cry.  He pinched each of her nipples.  He ran a hand down her tummy,
feeling its silky nudity, and then jammed his hand between her legs and
fondled her cunt.  She was forced to open her legs to him and his big
hand shoved a finger into her twat.
“Oh!” Kate yelped.  She was not used to being handled so and it
frightened her.  Yet it taunted her, somewhere deep inside herself, for
she knew she could do nothing, in her bit and her head harness and her
chains, to deny anyone.  And, besides all that, goading her even more,
her lover was large, taller even than Marie, and she was but 5-2 and big
only in her breasts.
Marie stood over the couple, watching as Trent took liberties
with his love that she had not permitted him before.  He bit into her
breasts, not hard, but not gently either, feeling their weight and
softness and their resilient yielding.  Kate felt tears in her eyes and
thought he might eat her alive.  His teeth left marks when he drew his
mouth away.  Then he attacked her nipples with his tounge and his teeth,
and Kate cried out as his teeth made a gripping clamp on her closest
nipple, and seemed to suck hard on it, as if milk might squirt out.
“Tell me you are not as old as you say,” Trent breathed hotly
to Kate when he’d lifted his mouth from her nipples.  “Tell me I can go
to prison if I fuck you.”
“You can,” Kate coughed, feeling tears stain her cheeks.  “You
can go to prison if you serve me a drink!”  Her breasts hurt a little
from his mouthing but she felt butterflies leap in her tummy as she
spoke, good butterflies, and she managed to tease him despite herself.
She reached down with both her manacled hands and caught at his penis
and held it tight.
Trent groaned.  Kate, who had only handled his manhood with the
greatest respect before this, a little afraid of it, in fact, now
pinched him with her nailed fingers, right on his throbbing shaft.  Her
lover flexed his chest but he didn’t make her stop.  Kate bent low and
jammed his cockhead into her bitted mouth and tried to bite him.  But
the bit kept her peaceful.  She could only breathe on him and pass her
lips across his peehole.  She hoped to wet his cockhead with her saliva
but instead she felt his precum wetting her lips.
Maria laughed.  “Let’s have breakfast, you two!  You have all
day to fuck.  I’m hungry!”  She pulled Kate’s head upright and made her
sit still.  She unbuckled Kate’s head harness so Kate could eat.  Then,
with Kate told to sit quietly and Trent told to behave, Maria rang a
little bell and Cindy entered.
There was a soft shuffling of feet upon the carpet.  With her
red hair hanging around her face, her braids long since undone and her
eyes a little sleepy looking, Kate got the impression that Cindy had
just awakened.  She wore a baby doll nightie that floated around her
waist, too short to cover her pussy.  The fabric was see-through.
Within her nightie Cindy’s hourglass figure moved, like a dancer’s,
though the girl herself stifled a sleepy yawn.  Her bosoms, full and
young, quivered pointy tips into the front of her nightie.
Cindy wore a garland of daisies upon her head.  The flowers
were freshly cut.  They still had a sprinkling of dew on them.  Kate
stared at them a moment, and then guessed that the daisies must be from
a hothouse and the droplets of water on them not dew but water, for it
was too cold for daisies to grow outside this late in the year.  Cindy
reached up and adjusted the garland upon her head.  She seemed to just
be aware of it, like a child awakening and then finding its mother was
near, its mother was the one who was hugging it close, and turning to
breastfeed after first crying for milk.  Kate realized, flushing a
little, that a gardener must have cut the daisies for Cindy.  A
gardnener employed by Maria, no doubt, who seemed to have servants on
hand for every need.  The man must have woven the daisies together for
Cindy and presented them to her, plopping them on her head as she,
beckoned from bed, stood sleepily before him.  And in realizing this
Kate knew that whatever happened to her was hardly private.  The guests
last night knew, knew her face and her body and how it looked in the
nude and how she looked with a cucumber introduced into her.  The maid
Bess knew, and would gossip, quite surely, to her friends who cleaned
the houses around town.  And now several gay men knew, staring at her,
and a gardener, perhaps shoveling manure outside in the yard, he knew
all about Kate too, how her lover had brought her and how she’d agreed
to come.
The curtains were useless.  They may have been made of lead, it
made no difference, for everyone in the house knew what was transpiring
in the breakfast room.  If Kate were whipped they would hear her
screams.
“Cindy, serve the men first, please,” Marie said to the girl.
The redhead turned to get a tray of food that had been placed on the
loveseat.  Kate saw that the bottom half of her hiney was completely
outside her nightie.  She glanced at the gay men.  They seemed to
delight in seeing her naked ass, though it was not a male’s ass.  No
doubt any hole was alright with them, Kate mused, provided it was an
asshole and it was tight.  Snug and hidden within Cindy’s pretty nether
cheeks, her anus promised certain pleasure.  Her bottomcheeks bulged as
she bent to pick up the tray and Kate noticed her lover’s penis quiver
agreeably as he, like all the rest of them, stared at Cindy’s bare
bottom.
It was a strange breakfast.  Instead of dressing up, as one
might at a fine hotel, they had dressed down, all except for the gay men
and Marie.  Cindy picked up the tray and found it was heavy and held it
a little unsteadily.  With her garland perched on her head, her red hair
loose and carefree, and her babydoll wafting around her figure, too
short to cover her pussy, she walked barelegged up to Marie.
“Breakfast, ma’am?” Cindy asked Marie in a tentative,
high-pitched voice.
“You are sweet to offer me first, but it won’t save your
bottom,” Marie said, but took a croissant all the same.  She slashed her
whip against Cindy’s thigh and the girl, rising up on her toes in
surprise, nearly dropped her tray.  “Serve our lovers first.  They are
naked and waiting and I’m sure they must be a little hungry.  And don’t
drop the tray or you’ll have stable duties assigned to you, and I’ll
have Bess serve us instead.”
Cindy bit her lower lip and nodded.  The whip’s thongs had left
light red marks across her white thigh.  She turned, and Kate, who had
been furtively stroking her lover’s penis, let go of it.  It stuck up
like a slab of raw bacon.  Cindy approached and bowed slightly.
Nudged by her lover, feeling a little queer, Kate reached out
and lifted a china coffee cup from the tray.  It was brimming with hot
coffee.  Kate drew it to her lips and blew on it and sipped it.  She was
careful not to spill any on her naked breasts.  She had to use both her
hands, for they were chained closely together.  She felt like she was
back in preschool, sipping hot cocoa.
Trent reached out for a cup of his own.  But first, too tempted
to resist, he reached above the tray and caught at Cindy’s breasts.  The
girl let out a small cry of alarm.  She almost dropped her tray.  With
both her hands holding the heavy tray, she could only watch as Trent
took liberties with her bosoms, palping her breasts through her nightie
and making her gasp in response.  He tweaked her nipples.  Cindy mewled
in displeasure.  But the babydoll was too sheer and flimsy to keep Trent
from doing whatever he wished, and he seemed to be in a bad boy mood all
of a sudden, hurting his lover’s breasts and now doing the same to
Cindy.
Kate, a little jealous of Cindy’s beauty, might have yanked at
her lover’s cock to stop him, but she did not.  When Trent had pleased
himself by displeasing Cindy, he lifted a coffee cup from her tray.
Gallantly he presented it to Kate’s lips and made her sip from it.  Then
he put it to his mouth and drank it down.
Cindy turned away.  She seemed eager to get away from Trent and
she walked quickly toward the farthest guest, instead of serving the gay
man who sat next to Kate.  Cindy’s bottomcheeks rolled as she walked,
her hips swaying, the sqeezable cheeks of her ass promising to trap even
a feather if it were inserted between them.  Everyone’s eyes followed
her bottom, even Kate’s.  She cared nothing for Cindy’s ass but was
still amazed to see a waitress so boldly and lewdly displayed.  All her
life Kate had always tried to be careful and modest and proper.  She’d
had some fun, of course, but had always tried to keep within bounds,
never going too far.  Now she was weighed down by chains whose very
weight seemed sensual, capturing her for her lover.  She sat
bare-bottomed on her lover’s equally bare thigh.  His hair tickled her
grooved satiny ass, the little hairs of his leg sticking up between her
spread bottomcheeks and teasing her anus.  With her every movement, her
every breath, Kate could feel her breasts rise and fall.  Her nipples
were stubbornly hard and they stuck right up, paying no mind to all the
eyes that could see them.  Her braids swished over her nipples whenever
she turned her head.  She was thrilled to be so close to her lover, his
thing sticking right up between his legs, hard and ready for her.  It
offered droplets of precum to her that, if unattended to, ran down his
shaft to collect in the hair on his balls.
Cindy, doing her best to please, stood erectly before the first
of the gay men, the one farthest from Trent and Kate, and offered her
tray to him.  “Please help yourself, sir!” Cindy said, her voice meek
and polite.  The man reached with both his hands, but not to take
anything from her tray.  He grabbed Cindy by her hips and to a shrieking
cry of dismay from her turned her around.  The move was abrupt and Cindy
barely retained her tray as she was turned.  She found herself staring
at Marie.  The woman, sitting in a chair of her own and nibbling her
croissant, merely stared back at her, from across the room, her whip
dangling in her hand.
The gay man seized Cindy’s bottom cheeks and yanked them apart
like a boy opening a present.  Cindy yelped out a cry of alarm.  Bending
forward, the man put his nose into the cleft of her ass and sniffed.
“Ah, smells as good as a lad, she does,” the man said in an
English accent.
“Any port in a storm,” his gay friend, who sat behind Kate,
next to her lover on whose knee she perched, called out.  The other gay
man, sitting opposite Trent, reached out and clasped competitively at
Trent’s organ.  Kate had let a drop of precum form on the tip of Trent’s
cock and the gay man wiped it off with his finger.  It was a rough,
callous finger, hardly what Kate would have expected on a gay man.
Suburbia did not teach the finer points of Gaydom to its young girls,
she realized.  Not all gay men had fine-tipped fingers like Elton John.
In her mind she named the men:  Eeney, Meeney, and Miney.  Miney was,
for her, the closest one, the one who did not understand that her lover
belonged to her, not himself.  Trent was not gay.  But Miney stroked
Trent’s cock all the same, happy, it seemed, that he had a cock in his
hands that was a straight cock, and resistant.  Trent was obviously
displeased but he did not stop the man.  He had agreed to let himself be
touched, to keep the expense of Kate’s training affordable.
“We are both slaves,” Kate whispered to herself.  The thought
scared her more deeply than any other she’d had in this strange house.
And yet it somehow made her even more attentive to herself.  Her body
was not hers, it belonged to her lover, yet he wished her trained and he
himself permitted others certain liberties in order to have Kate dealt
with completely and properly.  Kate realized her head was spinning and
she could barely control her passion.  Whatever her lover had gotten her
into, it was driving her wild!
“Ooooh!  Please DON’T!” Cindy, the little servant girl whose
bottom was just too tempting, cried out behind Kate, and Kate turned her
head again to see.  Cindy, clutching at her tray, was bent over.  The
gay man had her ass cheeks sprung open like a trap.  His hands were big
and calloused, like Miney’s, and he was sticking his tongue right into
her puckered hole.
“Oh, don’t lick me THERE!”  Cindy blurted.  She twisted her
hips and tried to pull her bottom away but the gay man held her fast.
Marie, seeing she was about to drop her tray, leapt up from her chair.
She strode quickly over to the girl, leaving her croissant behind on a
napkin spread on the arm of her chair, and took the tray from Cindy.
“Why, he’s just having a little chocolate before breakfast,
darling!” Marie laughed.  She clearly enjoyed Cindy’s predicament.  She
did nothing to stop Miney’s explorations.  Cindy shivered.  Her breasts
wiggled temptingly in her nightie.  It was cut low in front and one of
Cindy’s nipples managed to escape her nightie, and a moment later the
entire breast followed, spilling out of her babydoll like fruit from an
overturned basket.  Marie set the tray aside and reached under the
girl.  She drew Cindy’s nightie down and Cindy’s other breast popped
out.  Marie hefted both girl’s bosoms on her palms and gently squeezed
them.
“Oh, STOP!” Cindy begged.
“It’s what you get for wearing no panties, honey!” Marie
laughed.
“Ohhhh!  I’m sleepy!  I want to go back to BED!” Cindy
complained.
“She wants to be bedded,” Marie chuckled.  “My dear, you must
do your chores first, and then have your morning spanking.  Then you may
do as you wish until noon, when lunch must be served.”
“Ooooo, no no no!” Cindy whined, but the gay man thrust his
tongue quite deeply into her ass and seemed to enjoy what he found
there.
“You did not enemize her?” Meeney asked aloud of Maria, sitting
behind Kate and stroking Kate’s bottom, but obviously asking about
Cindy, for his eyes were on the girl and he only massaged Kate’s bottom
in an absent-minded way, like one twiddles one’s thumbs when one is left
with nothing to do.
“No, I did not,” Maria answered.  “I thought I’d let whatever
was up there be dug out by him, if he wished to go spelunking.  Kate is
also natural.  I did not prepare her bowels for our breakfast.  The same
for Trent.”
“Oh!” Kate said.  She turned her head away from Marie and Cindy
and felt herself blushing.  Meeney, behind her, probed between her
spread cheeks.  Kate jerked as she felt him get too deep.  She was
modest, he was not.  He squrimed his way into her cheeks and found her
hole.
“An anal breakfast, yes!” Miney crowed.  He ran a hand down
Trent’s ribs and tried to wedge his hand between Trent’s back and the
back of the couch, but Trent was large and heavy.  Miney could not push
him forward and Trent offered no assistance.  Miney had to content
himself with Trent’s cock instead.  It unfortunately, stuck up all too
helpfully.
Trent sat like a young stallion between two owners, his mare
perched on his knee.  Kate leaned forward and kissed Trent.  She held
his cockhead.  Meeney worked his fist up and down Trent’s penis.  Both
Kate and Trent still held their coffee, Kate carefully holding her
steaming cup right next to Trent’s cock, for her hands were chained
together and she couldn’t separate them.  Trent held his cup of coffee,
having no place to set it down.  He tugged at Kate’s nipples with his
free hand as he mouthed her mouth with his own.  Their tongues touched.
Trent’s breath was hot in Kate’s mouth, spurred by her and Meeney’s
handling of his organ.
“Spurt!  Cum on your girlfriend’s thigh,” Meeney said in a
cruel voice.  He hand-jobbed Trent’s penis as if it were a water pump,
drawing water up from a well.
“No,” Trent breathed.  His big chest flexed.  Kate’s tongue
weaved with his and then his overpowered hers and drove deep into her
mouth.
“We are becoming too excited!” Marie said suddenly.  “Hands
off, everyone!  I do want us to have a nice breakfast.”
Kate kept kissing Trent, urgently.  But a few seconds after she
heard Marie speak a hand came to the back of her hair and pulled her
gently back, then harder, until Kate was forced to separate her lips
from Trent.  Marie’s hand batted her hand away from her lover’s cock and
forced Meeney to desist in his unwanted ministrations.
Kate looked up.  Her lipstick felt smeared, though she was sure
it could not be, for it was specially selected by Bess not to smear, so
she could kiss.  Kate’s hair fell into her eyes and she did not bother
to shake her head to brush it away.  She watched as Marie strode back to
her chair and sat down.  Cindy, relieved at last of the tongue in her
bottom, stood up and held her cheeks together, feeling them, flexing
them a little.  She looked quite happy to have her ass to herself
again.  Miney sat wiping his tongue on an linen napkin.  He made Cindy
hand him a cup of coffee and he used it to wash his tongue.
“Gentlemen, I expect you to cream in your pants today,” Marie
said, sitting in her own chair and nibbling at her croissant again.
“There are many places where you would get in trouble if you creamed in
your pants at breakfast, but not here!  Here it is expected.  And Cindy
is going to give you something to get you started.”
Cindy stood and brushed back her long flowing hair.  She was
the center of attention again, and she seemed to enjoy it.  The tongue
up her ass seemed to have finally awakened her.  Her eyes were wide but
she lowered her lashes demurely, savoring all the male eyes fixed upon
her.  It mattered not that they were gay men.  Eeney himself had proven
that a gay man could violate her just as completely as any other.  And
Cindy, blushing a little and biting her lip at her pleasure at being
watched, pulling up both straps on her nightie, relished the male
attention.  The men had hard cocks that bulged in their trousers.  Their
attention was avidly fixed on her, as if she had switched their
preference somehow.
Now, as Kate saw, Cindy was going to feed and arouse the male’s
attention even more.  The girl picked up a pitcher of cream from the
tray.  The pitcher was white and patterned with roses.  They matched the
color of the peonies in a vase near Marie’s chair.  Cindy turned to
Eeney.  The man who had so recently possessed her now sat open-mouthed
as she bent and unzipped him.  Keeping her pitcher aloft, she prised her
fingers within his underpants.  She found his pee hole in his underpants
and opened it.  Then, pouring carefully, to a shocked gasp from Eeney,
Cindy poured the warm cream from her pitcher straight into his pants.
“Ye Cats!  That’s hot!” Eeney gurgled.
“It’s just warm.  You must not be used to cream in your pants,”
Marie said from her chair, laughing a little.  Kate laughed too as she
saw Eeney’s reaction.  The man’s face reddened and he squirmed in his
chair, but Cindy, with an admirably steady hand, just kept pouring.
Cream overflowed onto the man’s trousered crotch.  Cindy seemed to
regard that as a good stopping point.  Calmly she lifted her pitcher
upright so that the stream stopped.  Then, setting the pitcher back down
on the tray, she zipped Eeney back up, so that he was no freer than
before, his cock still trapped inside his pants.
“Rub yourself a little if you like,” Marie said to the men.
“I’ll be doing Trent myself, so that he doesn’t feel too unmanly, just
as I took his girlfriend last night.  You may watch, of course, but
you’ll have to keep your sperm in your pants.  I can’t have too big of a
mess in here.  Rub yourselves and sperm in your pants and when breakfast
is over I’ll let you wash off at the kitchen sink before you go.  You
did bring an extra pair of pants in your briefcases, like I told you
to?”  The three men nodded.  “Good.  So you’ll be a little late for
work, but quite happy, and quite productive too, I’m sure, having had
such a good start!”  Marie smiled.
“Can’t we at least have her ass?” Eeney asked of Cindy,
pointing to the girl as she made ready to approach Meeney with her
pitcher.
“No, dear.  She is my special pet.  She’ll need to be taken
outside for her spanking as soon as I’m done eating.  Anyway, you
haven’t paid me enough to have her.  Save up your pennies and perhaps
her lover will still be keeping her here when you come back again.  But
she’s pregnant, so don’t be too long about it!” Marie laughed.  Her
voice had emphasized the word ‘long’ and she seemed to be in high
spirits.  Kate listened behind herself as Cindy, standing over Meeney,
who still palmed and patted Kate’s bottom as if it were a toy made for
distraction, unzipped Meeney’s fly.  There was a sound of rich fluid
being poured forth and Meeney grunted.  Kate felt the couch move as
Meeney bucked his hips.  She glanced at Eeney.  He looked a little
disconsolate but he had accepted Marie’s advice and taken to rubbing his
zippered crotch with his hand.  He stared at Cindy’s bottom.  The girl
gave Meeney his due and then righted her stance.  She moved round Kate
and came to Trent.
“Yes, you must have cream too,” Cindy smiled.  She looked down
at his cock and saw that it quavered erectly over the blue fabric of the
couch.  “Oh!  Let me get you a little placemat, to catch the spills,”
Cindy said.  She retreated to the chair where the tray sat.  She put her
pitcher down.  She plucked a linen napkin from the tray and returned to
Trent with it.  She unfolded it and placed it neatly under his quivering
cock.  Then, getting her pitcher again, she came back and held it over
Trent’s dick.
“Ready?” Cindy asked.  Her eyes were bright and she clearly
enjoyed servicing Trent best of all.  He wasn’t gay, and she knew he
coveted her almost as much as his lover.  Kate watched, wide-eyed, as
Cindy poured the rich milky cream over Trent’s naked cock.  It
splattered onto his cockhead and ran down his shaft.  It collected in
the hair of his balls.  It spilled onto the napkin.  Cindy upped the
pitcher just in time, before there was too much cream and it ran all
over the couch.  Some did trickle back under Trent’s ass, but there was
not enough to seriously wet their seat.
“Thanks.  I needed that,” Trent said wryly.  Cindy blushed and
moved to Miney and unzipped him.  She gave him his due and then zipped
him back up.
“Now, my dear, get down on your knees, for its time for your
cereal,” Marie said to Kate.  Cindy, to Kate’s surprise, set her pitcher
on the floor and sat in Miney’s lap.  The man seemed not the least upset
and gladly traded his hand for her bottom’s squrimings.
Marie made Kate kneel on the floor between her lover’s legs.
She found herself face to face with his cock and his balls.  On either
side of her head his hairy legs encompassed her.  She placed her chained
hands on the floor and knelt with her feet, themselves chained, tucked
under her, with her bottom raised up so that she looked like an eager
dog waiting for her master to feed her.  She felt her bottom sway and
knew she must be trying to wag her tail for him.
Marie gave Cindy a hot bowl of porridge.  It smelled of
oatmeal.  Kate realized that, as a proper pony, she must have her oats.
The thought made her hiney wiggle and she almost wished Marie would give
her a good slash with her whip to make her feel even more like a good
little pony.
As Kate watched with baited breath, knowing something utterly
lewd and wonderful must be about to happen, Cindy took her lover’s penis
in her small hand.  Trent was quite large and his thing stuck out both
ends of her little fist and Cindy had trouble holding him, Trent was so
eager by now to cum.  He was drooling gobs of precum and Kate watched as
Cindy stuck his cock directly into the oatmeal porridge.
“Eat, pony!” Cindy said in a happy, high-pitched voice to
Kate.  Drawing Trent’s big penis out of the bowl, she presented it to
Kate’s face.  Kate saw that her lover’s cock was covered in oatmeal.
After a moment’s surprise, she darted her toungue out and lapped at the
porridge covered penis.
“Aughghgh!” Trent moaned as his swollen cock was cleaned by
Kate’s tongue.  She was avid in her lickings and, she realized as she
bathed him, she was hungry.  Kate waggled her bottom eagerly as Cindy
redipped her lover’s organ in the porridge and presented it again.  Once
more Kate tongued her lover’s organ, and found the porridge delicious.
“Yes, that’s it!  You are a good little horsey,” Marie said.
She stood over the hungry bride-to-be and her stiffened groom.  Trent
was in seventh heaven and yet it was obvious that if he was used in this
way for very long Kate would get a faceful of cream with her cereal.
Every muscle in Trent’s chest and stomach and legs strained as he fought
to hold back his sperm.  Kate felt small and wonderful as she knelt
between her lover’s legs, forced to clean his cock after every dipping
in the cereal bowl.  She let her bottom sway salaciously behind her.
She knew Eeney was watching her hiney and studying her cheeks with avid
attention as she squeezed them and let them go, then squeezed them
again, anticipating a fuck by somebody.  Surely Marie would let her have
her lover in her cunt and not make her accept all his sperm in her
face!  Trent was hard beyond belief and yet, as she tongued him, he
somehow managed to hold in his seed.  If she worked quickly, he might
last until the porridge bowl was empty, and then she would leap up and
mount him, if nothing else, and ride him to victory.  As if in
anticipation of her plan, Marie reached down and grabbed a handful of
Kate’s hair.
Kate kept licking.  Imprisoned between her lover’s legs and
with Marie now reigning her in, she had no choice but to clean her
lover’s cock after every new dipping into the porridge bowl.  Cindy
sighed softly.  She looked quite proud of herself for having such a big
cock in her hand, all stiff and excited.  It was obvious, as Trent’s
eyes darted from her to Kate, that she was quite appealing to him, and
he enjoyed her fondling hand.  Cindy pushed her breasts out, letting
Trent see all she had.  She opened her thighs.  She gave him an inviting
glance and wriggled her bottom.  Miney, entertaining her ass on his
crotch, groaned and spurted into his pants.
“Oh!  Did you just cum?” Cindy asked Miney.  She looked
slightly miffed that the gay man would ejaculate with her bare,
unprotected bottom in his lap.  Miney blushed and nodded.  “Well I hope
none of your stuff gets on me!” Cindy snipped.  She moved her ass a
little forward in his lap in hopes of avoiding his sperm.
“Ahhhhhh!” Kate suddenly heard behind her.  Meeney, using his
hand, had just climaxed.  His jism brooded in his pants and he rubbed
himself a little glumly now, his pleasure over.
Like Superman, Trent fought to maintain control and somehow
succeeded.  Marie seemed a little disappointed.  Kate suspected she
wanted to see her messed by a faceful of cum.  Yet Kate, with her pretty
braids, was still quite clean and rosy-cheeked, with just a little
porridge on her nose.  The bowl was empty now and Cindy made Kate lick
the inside of it completely clean with her tongue.
“Well!  You proved to be much more of a stalwart than I
expected,” Marie said to Trent.  She eyed his big penis, still holding
Kate by her hair so that she couldn’t mount him.
“It was tough,” Trent gasped.  He had to squeeze his eyes shut
as another sexual tremor ran down his organ.  He clenched his buttocks
in the sofa and grimaced and the wave of pleasure passed away.  He
opened his eyes again.  “God, you have some tongue!” He said to Kate.
Cindy, not wanting to spoil his success, let go of his cock.  Her
fingers were a little sticky from the porridge and she licked them
clean, one by one, as if she were a baby just finishing a favorite meal.
“Alright, Mr. Hunk, get down on your knees on the floor,” Marie
said to Trent.  “I promised our gay friends here that I’d fuck your ass
and I’m wet and hot for you!”  Her eyes were wild and she yanked Kate
backward so that the girl couldn’t get to her lover.  Trent rose.
Eeney stood up and came over to Kate and took her from Marie.
Holding her by her hair, he drew her up so that she knelt erectly before
him.  But he let her face away from her, so that she could watch as
Marie fucked her lover.  Kate, dizzy with emotions and not knowing what
to do, held down by her chains and captive to Eeney’s desires, knelt on
the rug obediently.  She heard Eeney unzip himself behind her.
Surreptitiously, Marie too busy to notice, he shoved his erection into
the mass of Kate’s lovely blonde hair.  Kate yelped as she felt his pee
hole bump up against the back of her neck.  But she could do nothing,
and nobody heard her, for they were all entranced by Trent and the
impending loss of his anal virginity.
“Now, sir, I’m going to give you what you’ve always wanted but
been too afraid to ask for!” Marie crowed.  Trent knelt obediently
before her, on the carpet, just a few feet away from Kate.  His head
hung down and his penis, engorged as ever, hung down between his legs
like a big summer sausage in a smokehouse.  Kate watched as a drop of
precum drooled down from the tip of his penis and landed on the carpet.
“Just make it quick,” Trent replied to Marie.  “I don’t like
being made to look like a fag.”
“I’m a woman, dear,” Marie answered.  And, as if to prove it,
she reached back behind herself and unzipped her dress.  The garment
fell away and, as Kate had suspected, Marie was ready for action
underneath.  She wore absolutely nothing.  No bra, no panties.  Just her
long black leather boots and her matching fingerless gloves.  Marie
strode past Kate to the low table where the flower vase stood and picked
up a bell sitting there and rang it.
“Bess, bring my dildo!” Marie called.  The door to the
breakfast room was ajar and a moment later Bess appeared.  On a small
silver tray, half the size of the tray that had borne their food, was a
big dildo and straps.  Marie thanked Bess and took the dildo from the
tray.  “Cindy, come and help me get this on!” Marie said.  Quietly Bess
withdrew, leaving them to their game, but not before her eyes met Kate’s
and she seemed to say, ‘I told you so.  Poor American girl.’
Kate knelt shivering on the rug, too scared to know how to act
or respond.  Her lover knelt before her with his ass raised to the gay
men, waiting for Marie to mount him.  Marie struggled into her dildo
harness.  Cindy buckled it for her and adjusted it so that the big
hulking dildo stuck out in front of her as if she were some permanently
erect man.
“Now I am ready for you, my sweet stallion!” Marie said to
Trent’s ass when she’d gotten the harness on.  Cindy fetched a jar of KY
jelly from behind the flower vase, secreted there for the breakfast’s
conclusion.  She took big gobbed handfulls of the stuff onto her fingers
and spread it liberally all over Marie’s fake cock.  When the job was
done and Marie was fully lubed, the woman knelt down on the carpet
behind Trent.  Her long boots protected her knees from rug burns.
“Ack!” Trent said through gritted teeth as he felt his buns
pulled apart by Marie.
“Relax your bottom, boy!  I can hardly get it open!” Marie
said.  “Cindy, take hold of his cock and give him a good yank to make
him obedient!” Marie called to her favorite girl.  The redhead knelt
dutifully beside Trent.  She reached under him and, like a maiden
milking a cow, she pulled hard on Trent’s dick.
“Whooaa!” Trent bellowed.  Cindy gave him another yank and
Marie pinched his balls.
“Ohhh!” Kate cried, herself in distress, for she suddenly felt
Eeney ejaculate onto her neck.
“Kate!  Get my whip!  I want you to whip your lover’s back or
I’ll never get his asscheeks apart!” Marie called to the girl.
Kate, glad to get away from Eeney, whatever the cost, rose up
from the floor.  She felt Eeney’s hot sperm run down her back and find
its way into the crack of her bottom.  Managing to ignore it, however,
and a little peeved at Trent for putting her in such an embarrassing
place, she went and fetched Marie’s whip and came striding back, quick
as her chains would allow, swinging it vengefully.
“Give him a good slash right here on his ass,” Marie told Kate,
backing up.  “The man has buns of steel.”
Kate toyed for a moment with the idea of slashing at Marie
instead.  But the woman was tall and powerful.  Even in kneeling she
retained her aura of authority.  She looked like a cat about to pounce
on prey.  Kate realized she stood no chance against the woman.  So,
instead, she took out her fear and anger on her lover.
WHACK!  Kate brought Marie’s whip down upon her lover’s ass and
watched as he responded.  Trent groaned.  His head shot up.
“Careful of his balls!” Marie cautioned.  “He’s a wonderful
stud.  I don’t want him hurt.  Just obedient.”
Kate nodded.  She was fully in the grip of Marie now, obeying
her, pleasing her with her actions as well as her body.  Kate brought
the cat down carefully, not hitting hard enough, but Marie didn’t scold
her for she new the girl was new at such things.  Kate lifted the crop
again and managed to flog her lover more fully on the next stroke.  She
watched as the little knotted leather tips of the crop skittered into
his furrow and made him wince and buck like a horse.
“Legs apart, young man!  You mustn’t try to hide anything from
us girls!” Marie told Trent.  His balls stuck rudely out from between
his thighs in any event, but now Marie, reaching forward, made him show
himself more completely, so that if she bent down she could see his
balls swing and his penis hanging down beyond.
“Again, Kate dear.  Make him really feel it this time!” Marie
said.  Kate did her best, slashing hard high on her lover’s rump so that
his balls would be spared.  Trent gave a groan.  Cindy, milking him,
tugged hard on his cock as if it were an old sow’s udder.
“Enough.  Let me try to get his cheeks apart now,” Marie said.
She reached forward and clasped his buns and grunted.  “Open, young man,
or I WILL have Kate hit your balls,” she said.  Trent groaned again and
Kate watched as he let Marie part the cheeks of his ass.  “Let go of his
dick.  I’ve got him,” Marie said to Cindy, meaning that she had Trent’s
ass open to her.  Marie shoved her bare hips forward, wearing only the
ersatz cock.  Cindy drew back to let Trent concentrate entirely on his
deflowering.
A stab.  A probing shove from Marie and a grunted response from
Trent.  Another stab, this one finding purchase.  Kate watched with her
fist balled into her open mouth.
“Yes!  I can feel him opening up to me,” Marie called out to
the girls.  She took a hand off Trent’s rump and used it to lift her
probing dildo so that it gained a deeper entry inside Trent’s anus.
“Come on, get in, you big thing!” Marie said.  Trent bucked back hard at
her to knock her away but instead, as any girl might have warned him,
found Marie stuck more deeply into himself.
“No!  Please!” Trent said.  He did not try to escape her but he
hoped for mercy.  Marie gave him none.
“IN, you damn dildo, get in his hole!” Marie urged the thing
strapped to her waist.  Then, realizing all was hopeless, she reached
round herself and flicked a little switch nestled into the small of her
back, where the strap of her dildo harness lay.
Kate heard a buzzing sound.  Trent’s eyes widened.  Marie
laughed.  Her dildo was stuck partway in Trent’s ass, just the tip, but
it was enough to allow her evil alternate plan to take hold.  From
within the dildo, Trent describing the feeling as it happened to him,
his face a picture of shock, a smaller tool emerged.  It buzzed and
slowly rotated and it carried its own lubrication.  It came out of what
would have been the big dildo’s pee hole, had it possessed one, and,
already within Trent’s ass, it burrowed more deeply, where its big
brother could not reach.
“No!  Get that thing out–oh my God its going right up meeee!”
Trent said in a frightened voice.  Kate watched, wishing she could
console him.  She was kneeling again, this time without Eeney’s
reproachful hand holding her back.  She nudged forward on the carpet and
caught Trent’s face in her hands.  Hoping not to offend Marie, she
caressed her lover.  When she saw Marie would not complain, she offered
Trent her bush.  He licked her and Kate, wanting so much to be loved
there, threw back her head and arched her bush at him and her belly.
“Oh, yes!” Cindy cried.  Despite being three weeks pregnant,
she still had a belly with just the slightest of swells, like Kate’s.
She dropped to her knees beside the girl and together they competed to
offer Trent their lovely bushes.  Trent licked at one girl’s cunt and
then at the other.  Each threw her head back, simultaneously coaxing and
caressing his face, and shouted up her pleasure to the ceiling.
Meanwhile, the penetraton of Trent’s ass by Marie continued.
Gurgling out the story of the dildo’s progress, the one contained inside
the other and now working its way up Trent’s ass, he continued to lick
at the girls.
“Oh my God Kate its reaching right up I can’t I don’t know how
far is it going to GO?!”
“Relax, dear boy, you can only have taken at most three inches
out of the seven,” Marie said quite mirthfully.  She was the only one,
save for the gay men, who retained her logic and her demeanor.  Kate and
Cindy were quite past adding anything up and Trent, if he did the sums,
did them in desperate agony over his bowels.
Like a penis Trent’s toungue went where his own cock was
restrained from going.  Even as the dildo reamed his ass in rotating
strokes, his own tongue penetrated the cunts of the girls.  First Kate
and then Cindy tried mounting herself on Trent’s tongue.  He gave each a
little ride on his probing mouth and then switched to the other, to the
dismay of the first.  He seemed equally taken with both girl’s luscious
scented cunts, wet with their overwhelming desire.  He showed neither
any special favors.  Instead, each was fucked just as if he were an
obedient stud, and he worked them most vigorously, though his tongue was
much shorter than his cock and both girls wished they could have what
was sticking so marvelously between his legs.
“Ahhh, that’s the farthest it will go.  How does it feel?”
Marie asked Trent.  She had heard a change in the buzzing as the
protruded dildo reached its maximum length.  Trent gritted his teeth and
kept tongueing Cindy and Kate as the rotating dildo spun slowly within
his guts.  He was mounted, though Marie herself was only kneeling behind
him, the dildo doing the rest.  He could not move and when he did,
accidentally, he gave a short cry of alarm as he realized the rubber
intruder did not take well the idea of anything moving except itself.
Kate reached orgasm and yanked at Cindy’s hair as she did,
delightfully happy, Cindy stroking her belly and hummming a little
gleeful cry as she serviced herself with her fingertip in the absence of
Trent’s tongue.  Trent worked Kate as hard as he could with his tongue
and then switched to Cindy.  She yelled as he brought her to an orgasm
as intense as Kate’s.  Behind herself Kate heard someone enter.  Turning
briefly, she saw it was Bess, come to clean up the dishes.  The woman
watched.  Kate bit her lip and fingered herself and turned back to
Trent.
“My, you have quite a pair there, haven’t you?” Bess said to
Marie.
“Yes, they are fine fillies, and I’m going to give them both a
good whipping as soon as Trent here has had his ass properly reamed,”
Marie said happily.  She picked up her cat and slashed it across Trent’s
back.  Trent moaned but said nothing.  He was too busy giving Cindy her
due.
At last, after Trent had gotten a ‘full measure,’ as Marie put
it, of what it meant to be fucked up the ass (good education for his
future relations with girls) Marie withdrew the little dildo inside the
big one and then pulled the big one out of his ass.  It came out with a
distinct popping sound as Trent’s anal ring was permitted to close up
again.  Trent rose up onto his knees, straightening his back, and rubbed
his ass.
To the delight of both Kate and Cindy, they saw that Trent was
still bone hard.  His cock stuck out at them and both girls, kneeling in
front of him, recovering from their orgasm, lunged at his toy.
“It’s mine!” Kate cried.  But Cindy was equally avid and cried
out the same gleeful cry.
“Girls, don’t fight over my—”  Trent said.  Suddenly his
alarmed warning changed to a groan of pleasure.  The girl’s grabbing
hands, fighting so zealously over his hard-on, suddenly found it
spurting cum onto their bellies.  They both shoved their pussies forward
and caught as much as they could in their pubic curls.  Both wanted to
mount him but there was no time and they had to content with wetting
their cunts on his semen as he spewed forth his volcanic seed.  A whole
morning’s worth of temptation splattered their bellies and their cunts.
When Trent had finished, the girls reluctantly let him go.
“Now you naughty girls must have your bottoms whipped for
making him cum,” Marie said.  Both girls turned about and saw Marie,
having risen from behind Trent, standing ominously behind them.  She
held her cat in her hands and the fake dildo still hung from her nest,
looking as ready as ever to drill into new bottoms.
“Oh, please!” Kate moaned.  Cindy echoed her cry.
“Flog them,” Trent said.  He rubbed his ass and he sounded like
someone who’d sat on a very unpleasant object.  “Flog them both until
their bottoms burn!”

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