Into My Life Book Two
by Trevor Walden
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2011 Trevor Walden
Published by Burping Frog Publishing
Detroit, Michigan
burpingfrogebooks.blogspot.com
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All persons and locations in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters depicted in this work of fiction are eighteen years of age or older.
Guests from Devon
A brief summary of the leading characters in this series, and introducing some for the first time.
Graham: Thirty six, divorced against his wishes but was still working as a salesman for his father-ex-laws firm. He was a year on from recovering from depression, getting back on his feet when he gave a girl a lift.
Her destination turned out to be anywhere where she could disappear for a while. His place was fine, until they kissed. An innocent kiss but it welded their two souls together. Not that either of them was in state that they could recognise it. Petra, a name she invented on the fly, was so desperate to stay ‘disappeared’ that she offered him a deal. It was that or get kicked out because he was still hurting too much to take on a regular girlfriend. The deal? Well, she offered herself - for an hour each day, and, because she liked him, she said he could do anything he wanted, anything at all, just so long as no-one else was involved. And he did, exploring her body, testing her sexuality, bringing new experiences to her with a care she’d not experienced before.
The real surprise was that she didn’t mind the things he did, in fact, she didn’t mind at all. The real bonus was that there were no more decisions for her to make, she just went with the flow. She got spanked, got tied up, got to realise how much he needed her in his life. It was all so good she phoned her old school friends, partly because she was lonely, taking care not the think about how much she wanted to brag about all the good sex she was getting. And No, she didn’t want to share him.
Too late, she was coming for the weekend, just a few weeks after she’d met him herself.
Susan was Petra’s best old school friend, generally answered to Susie. A tall girl, heavier than Petra, and a dominant streak that had caused Petra lots of trouble as the two of them had experimented as teenagers. Dares were the order of the day - for Petra.
Then all of a sudden Alexandra was coming too, from the year below them at school. Now she was an artist and photographer; calling herself Alex R now, a fashionable tag for her better clients.
Her dumpy schoolgirl figure had matured, slimmed down, into a pocket rocket of sexual power, always well groomed and perfectly made-up. She was looking to develop a second line, under another ‘tag’, to open up the more lucrative line of artistic exotic art, in photography or in oils, she didn’t mind, just so long as it paid well.
Chapter 1
At first sight, across the station car park, Alexandra was quite delightful. Short bobbed blonde hair, was the second thing I noticed. Her shapely legs caught my eyes first, under a lovely flared and very short skirt. A petite girl with a cute face smiling in greeting above nice, full breasts hidden under a white blouse. A navy bolero style jacket was her only protection against the cold. Well groomed, perfect make-up. Pretty, but not particularly attractive somehow! High heels the same colour as her skirt, to me anyway. A ‘together’ person, I wondered how she’d cope with being stripped and punished, teased and tormented to orgasm.
She was dragging one of those wheeled suitcase things that managed to trap itself in the gate that Susie was now holding open for her.
Susie was behind her, instantly recognisable just from Petra’s description, waiting to follow Alex through the narrow gateway. A taller girl, heavier, with a full head of hair that made her look taller still. Tallish, strong build, perhaps big boned would be a better description, no flabbiness, just a big built girl. A farmer’s daughter perhaps, or a lovely Milkmaid!
Her auburn hair tumbled in an unruly fashion down over her shoulders. Her face was open and honest and, yes, there was definitely a twinkle there too. Her annoyance at Alex getting her trolley thing tangled some wire at the bottom of the gate bubbling quickly into laughter, some light hearted banter as a man behind tried to help and got his finger pinched or cut as Alex yanked crossly at her case, finally getting it free. Susie dropped her hold-all and grabbed his hand, inspected the wound. Presumably she found it bloodless because she kissed it better with a laugh, tossing her hair, captivating him. I couldn’t hear what she was saying but he was smiling too as she shook her head, pointing towards us. As he headed off I saw him looking back to carry a picture of the two girls home with him.
Petra was waving, setting off quickly across the car park to help. I stayed there, watching, weighing up the prospects for the weekend. I was still very undecided about it all. I’d listened to one phone call and heard Petra telling Susie how she’d be tied up, teased, spanked, and she’d apparently accepted it. On the phone at least! I’d spoken to her briefly, said right out “She’s not joking. You will be stripped, spanked and used. You do understand.”
“I’m wet already,” she’d laughed in reply, which sort of sealed the deal really, even if it was just for a day or two. Then just this Thursday this photographer lady had been included, Alex!
Apparently it was on the same terms. She had had to accept that she too would be bound, spanked and humiliated and that she was to be fully available to me, if I wanted her. She’d be in the photographs too. It was the price the two girls put on being photographed while they were naked, bound and maybe beaten. They hadn’t really expected her to agree. They just wanted to be sure the photos didn’t get out into general circulation. But she’d agreed, so now there were the three girls and me. Just how the hell was I supposed to get much out of this? With Petra we’d got used to having some good solid sex sessions and then maybe making gentle love, either during or after. Petra had got used to, and accepted, that I’d go off to sleep soon afterwards. Recuperating I called it. She had other words, not many of them were complimentary but they were always said with a smile.
But three of them? What the hell did they expect of me? I reckoned the only way I’d get through the next few days was by taking regular breaks, perhaps leaving them to work on each other for a while. Under my guidance maybe but I could simply sit and watch, or help with the photography bits; adjusting or adding ropes and so on, and perhaps the odd idea. I’d already realised that the ones doing things to the others would still be liable to the odd bit of corrective discipline from me and that way, I thought, maybe I could still be the top dog, the one in charge, and yet still get to enjoy some very lovely sights.
I’d selected a nice willow cane the last time we’d walked up the hill. I’d trimmed it, stripped it of bark, cut it to a good length. It was to become my badge, to establish me as ‘The Master’, like an officers’ cane tucked under the arm.
And if I was stirred to take some personal part in proceedings then not one of them had the right to refuse, under reasonable circumstances. That had already been established. Mainly because if they were coming to see Petra being put through her paces, well, I wasn’t comfortable with them just watching that, photographing her in bondage, or being spanked over my knee. I wanted them to join in too, to feel, and to know, that whatever I did to her was soon going to happen them too, and perhaps they’d enjoy it too. I wanted to show that I wasn’t really an ogre. We have a close relationship. I was her friend and protector as well. We were also in love, probably, and we were happy to share our unusual experiences with her friends. Perhaps to prove something to ourselves!
I think too much. It’s all that driving I do.
I’d left Petra to it her phone call, it what turned out to be a very long one, and I’d gone down to the pub for a pint. She was still on the phone when I got back. Happy, looking hot, sexed up. I’d taken the phone from her and spoke to Susie myself for some time. She was worse than Petra for being upfront, she confirmed that she’d bullied Petra quite badly, and in a sexual way too, and knew that she deserved, and was going to get, some harsh treatment in return. From all Petra had said she was very much looking forward to being bound, beaten and ‘absolutely anything else’ I wanted to try out on her. Perhaps it wasn’t going t be too bad after all.
I’d been quite harsh on Petra that night. I think because of the tension of this forthcoming visit, but she thoroughly enjoyed it, squealing a bit but never complaining. I think she enjoyed herself more than usual.
I suspected that she was remembering those times in Cornwall. It seems they had generally started with teenage wrestling matches which Petra, being shorter, lighter and less committed to winning, generally came of worse. That followed with some sort of penalty, or forfeit, such as being made to strip off in the woods. Odd times her dear friend had run off with her clothes leaving her naked and having to find her way back to the cottage.
Other times she’d been held down and her sex had been teased to orgasm, sometimes quite roughly, even in crude bondage now and then.
After telling me all this, and a bit of a session downstairs, we lay in bed together. She’d wanted to talk, to try to explain, that now she’d found me she didn’t blame Susie in any way for the way that she’d teased and abused her. She thanks her now, accepting that it had been subconsciously mutual at the time. After all, she’d gone back for more time after time. It was inside her then, and it was inside her now.
She just loved being bossed about by someone she felt safe with, someone who cared for her. It gave her the freedom to express herself with little squeals of pain or terror, and joy.
I hadn’t been able to speak to Alex. It had only been arranged since I’d been away on business. But now, seeing her, I knew I’d have no problem.
Greetings were exchanged, including hugs for Petra. I held my arms out to Susie as she released Petra and she stepped closer, into my arms. I held her close to me, body to body, she turned her face up for a kiss, so I kissed her. Her lips were cold but welcoming, opening readily. My tongue teased into her mouth and it took her a moment to understand, to accept that although she still had her clothes this was going to be a very close encounter. She broke the kiss, hugged me closer for a moment, then turned her face up to me and kissed me again quickly.
“I’m all yours,” she said, and then added “As agreed. Thank you for letting us visit,” and stepped back.
“And this is Alexandra, a good friend of mine, a close friend. I do some modeling work for her on the cheap and she cooks up a lovely Sunday dinner.”
Alex moved closer and I took her into my arms too, my finger under her chin to lift it for a firm kiss full on her lips.
It took her a moment to accept what this meant then her body just melted against mine, her eyes closed briefly as her lips parted, moving against mine. I was even surer now that things would be OK. I watched her eyes as we kissed. They changed from nervously cautious to nervously excited as I pulled her body against mine. They cleared as she heard Petra laughing behind her.
“Didn’t I tell you he really fancies himself?”
She’d be OK now she’d met me properly, kissed like this, she felt that it would be OK. She had a very expressive face, I could read it all there. I was looking forward to seeing her face as it responded to some miss-treatment. She’d make a lovely photographic subject herself too, perhaps a single light for her pale skin and hair to contrast against dark shadows where her Master, me, stood behind her in the shadows. Yes, she’d do.
I pulled back, let her go. It was time to hit them then with their first bit of obedience training. I held my hand out, asking “Your panties please.”
It wasn’t a surprise! It had been talked about early on. I got both of them, after some shuffling to screen each other from the public gaze. They were very pretty ones too. They had obviously ‘dressed to please’ from top to toe. They were lucky they’d stuck to the instructions I’d given to Petra. Trousers or jeans and I’d still have wanted their panties. With the two pairs laid across my hand there was just a simple check to make.
“Have I got them all? None of you wearing two pairs?”
There were protests of course, but at my prompting they each flashed their tummies in turn, again screened by some shuffling of position. Satisfied I complemented them on their obedience and ordered them to get into the car, directing the new girl, the curvaceous Alex, to the front seat. I wanted to get to know her quickly, and make sure she understood exactly what she was in for. As we all got in and I started the engine I asked her to lift the hem of her skirt and tuck it into the waistband. She blushed, but she obeyed. I was pleased when she folded her hands demurely in her lap. She was getting the idea but -
“Seat belt on and your hands folded behind you please, and spread those pretty thighs! No need to be shy!”
I made a show of bending forwards, peering into her crotch. I even extended a finger to part her curls.
“Very sweet! I wonder what you taste like?” and I slipped my fingertip between her soft lips, teasing into the dryness. She grunted brief dissent but her thighs opened a little wider. She was torn between not wanting to annoy me and not wanting me to do it. Exactly the mind battle I wanted her to experience before she found herself being tied up and in an aroused sexual state. I didn’t want her panicking when things progressed later.
I pushed in a bit harder, letting her know I wouldn’t be fobbed off. She lifted her hips, spread wider again, a little moan escaping her breathlessly.
“Good Girl. You’ll do well this weekend. I sense it’s in you to enjoy yourself if you can let go!”
She still jumped when I reached around her to tug the seatbelt tight across her body, her thighs. I looked into the back, watched the others moving into the same position, hiking their skirts up and tucking them in. Petra with a big smile on her face, and that raised eyebrow that means ‘Enjoying yourself?’ I knew it well. I smiled back, she knew what that meant too and let her tongue peep out at me between her smiling lips.
They looked delightful when I dropped them off in the high street. The brisk wind flirted with their short skirts in way that would soon refresh their private parts. They had a list each, their bit of the weekends shopping to do. There were some particular items that I’d put on another list just for Petra. Just a few things I wanted for my own amusement, and hopefully some good photo’s. Like candles! Girls love candle light.
I’d already sorted through all the odds and ends I’d got in the cellar. It was all ready to be brought up for this afternoon’s games.
Petra and I had had a few chats about what we could ‘do’ with them. A walk up the hill was definitely on the list, and some bondage sessions in the house. I particularly wanted to go and disturb the ghosts in the dungeons again, up at that country house, but Petra wasn’t so keen.
“They’re lively ‘twenty something’s, not old maids looking for a nice pot of tea and a bath bun. It’s not as if they do a nice cream tea there, not up to what Devon Girls are used to anyway.”
I thought about opening their luggage, to see what they’d brought with them. It might have given me some clues as to their likes and dislikes, but perhaps a journey of discovery would be better without any pre-conceived ideas about each of them.
Chapter 2
Back at the house I left their cases in the car, made myself a coffee quickly, filling the kettle and leaving it to boil so it was ready for the girls coming in with their bags. Then I ‘retired’ to the front room, clicked the radio on and stoked up the fire. It was cold out, as the girls knew by now.
I wasn’t left in peace for long, I could hear them coming a hundred yards away, their girlish laughter, loud and self-confident. I went to the door and watched them coming up the village road as I stood in the porch.
Petra, face full of happy, breathless, carrying two bags of shopping, came to a stop in front of me. I leant forward, kissed her softly, blocking her way.
“Did these two make you carry the bags?”
“Yes Sir,” she grinned up at me. “They were horrible to me, Sir.”
All just as we planned.
“Five demerits each!” I replied.
Alex blurted out “What’s a demerit?”
“That’s ten for you. You do know what you’re here for?”
“Yes. I think so,” and after a pause “Sir.”
I drew a fiver from my pocket, passed it to Susie. “We need four pints of milk please, from Wilson’s at the far end of the village.”
She took it, looked doubtful. “I think we got some, Sir.”
“That’s ten for you too. Are you going argue or do as I told you, right now?”
A brief hesitation, then “Yes Sir,” and she turned slowly, headed back up the road, her arms curled around her against the cold. I called her back. She turned, walking back reluctantly.
“Make that two bottles! The four pint bottles! Carry one in each hand coming back! And keep your arms by your sides all the time, going there and coming back!”
She looked at me for a long moment then decided. “Yes Sir,” she said, fairly cheerfully, with a sort of curtsy and a smirk. Then she turned, heading back into the village, arms swinging by her sides, her pace brisk in the hope of not getting too cold. The odd little skip to make her skirt swish and bounce.
She knew very well that it was going to be a chilly walk, especially with her panties still in my car. That had been Petra’s idea, just to be sure they both knew exactly what to expect this weekend.
“Now then Alex,” I said, turning to her, running my eyes deliberately down her body to her high heels. She licked her lips nervously, her feet fidgeted. It was great. It was very hard not to smile.
“We’ll need some twigs and things for the weekend, some grasses too. I gather you’ve painted some outdoor scenes in the past. I think it would be a good idea to use materials from the countryside, for artistic effect, to soften the indoors scenes. There’s a recreation ground just down the way. You’ll see the signs for the footpath. Here’s some secateurs, go and gather some. And keep your legs straight when you bend over, just as you will for the rest of the weekend. Understand?”
There was no hesitation, just a smirk and a sharp “Yes Sir,” and she too headed off at a brisk pace.
I called after her, “There may be a football match on, just village lads.”
Just to add to any little worries she had.
I looked down at my Petra, still smiling, watching Alex walking briskly up the road.
“And you, my little Miss Mischief, had better get those groceries put away, get their bags out of the car and into the kitchen. Then strip off before you come into the front room. You can kneel before the fire and get warmed up until I’m ready for you.”
I moved a little to one side a little, leaving just enough room for her to squeeze past me. She paused, wedged between me and the porch wall, looked up at the glass ceiling, remembering, I think, that first evening she’d come back to the house from the pub, just as bright eyed as I remember. And I’d introduced her to my darker side, right here, in the porch. Peeling her jumper upwards, slipping it down again behind her shoulders, sliding it right down to trap her arms behind her, leaving her bare breasts very available. By the shine in her eyes I knew she was remembering too. I kissed her, leaning against her body so she knew I remembered too before letting her go through, into our house.
“Don’t get undressed. I’d like to do that myself!”
It wasn’t long before she was with me, knelt upright in front of the log fire. I tied her wrists loosely behind her and unbuttoned her blouse, left it to just hanging open. As I walked around her I noticed her skirt hem brushing the backs of her calves so I lifted it, tucked it into her waistband at the back, exposing her backside.
Her lovely bottom reminded me of the weights I’d prepared. Two round wooden balls on a little stem of dowel that I’d glued together and carefully sanded smooth and varnished for hygiene. I’d added an eyelet screw into the end of the stem so I could a chain, to hang whatever I chose to fix there, perhaps a weight or two.
She was used to them, hated them, but accepted them. I pulled the condom over it, wet it with my tongue and pressed it into her. How she hated that moment when it stretched her there. Hated it even more as the first ball slipped through her tight ring, right into her. Her ring of muscle closed firmly around the dowel. I eased it left and right to settle it then released the weight to watch it swinging gently between her thighs.
“I love it,” I told her.
“Because you know I hate it,” she replied.
I tugged lightly on it, got a ‘grunt’ in response. I sat in my chair then, just watching, trying to relax but worrying about keeping three women ‘busy’ for the weekend.
“How much have you told them about us?” I asked.
“Everything, but not the deal. I told Susie that when I saw that look in your eyes I knew it was just right, so I let you. I said there are no rules between us, just a safe word in case I get cramp or something. I let you do anything you want.”
“And she accepted that?”
“I can be very convincing when I want to be. And it’s pretty much what we do, isn’t it?”
“Any advice?” I asked.
“Give them something soft to kneel on. This rug doesn’t give much protection to my knees.”
I laughed, reached forward to lift her blouse off the nearer shoulder, let it fall.
“That’s not what I meant,” I told her.
“I know Sir. I was trying to be cheeky.” She turned her head to face me, twisting her body so I could see her bare breast. “You’ll just have to work it out. Read the signs when you think you might be pushing them too hard.”
“What do you think will work tonight? I’d like to get us all used to Alex taking pictures, and I’ll make sure she’s in some of them too. I thought some bondage for tonight using the different ropes we’ve got to see which one comes out best in photos. I reckon the washing line would be too fine to show much. That old towrope is perhaps a bit too heavy. And colour will be important too, for photos at least.”
“You’re too clever, my master. Did you get all these ideas from your dirty magazines?”
“Mostly. That and some common sense! I’ve told you how glad I am that you came into my life, haven’t I?”
“Yes. Not often enough, but I do know how lucky I am that I chose you.”
“This weekend mustn’t change our luck.”
“It won’t. You have my full permission to do to each of the girls anything that you’d do to me. I’ll help you, then I’ll just watch, or I’ll take part. Just don’t get too distracted, make sure each of us gets some proper satisfaction now and then. I’ll still be yours next week. And I’ll still expect a full hour.”
“For each day. I know. Sounds like you’re getting bossy!”
“No, my Master. Just trying to help you, as always. But I am getting a little bored here!”
So I went for more cords, and some things from the kitchen. She kept her face fixed forwards and her eyes closed when I dropped the various items beside her but I saw goose bumps break out around her ribs, across her back. She drew a little shuddering breath. She knew it was her time.
I did her blindfold first to help her to focus, added a gag to stop her advising, and then a peg to each nipple for her sake. The other two would know what was going to happen to them now.
I took the spatula then and used light, fast, stinging splats that made her gasp but caused no bruises, no damage. It just brought a lovely pink, or red eventually, blush to her bottom. And kneeling up straight was a torment for her. Nowhere to escape to, she could wriggle a bit but not avoid, not even change my target much. The heat just built until her breathing came in little gasps, panting in between. There was a tear sometimes, which told me she was very near her limit. Sometimes I’d wait a while then, for a few minutes sometimes before I began again. Of an evening at home I’d often write down the time she had to endure. Sometimes I’d let her see it, especially if it was going to be a longer sessions. I’d make her sign it too, accept what was coming to her. The mental twist to a physical punishment. And a check on me too, in case I got to enjoy it too much, got carried away. Maybe that would be a good twist for this evening. I could write three ‘times’ on a piece of paper, one for each of them, and let them draw their own. Keep it secret from the others. I heard the door go, got up to see which of the girls it was.
Alex stepped in with a nice fat bundle of sticks, twigs and so on. I put a finger to my lips to keep her quiet. Pointed at Petra, then her. She understood, put her bundle on the floor quietly, slipped her shoes off, and moved into the front room. I followed, took my seat again, picked up the spatula and slapped it against Petra’s backside.
Alex pulled her jumper up, off, folded it and laid it on the floor beside Petra. She took the opportunity to look at Petra and shivered. She looked at me. I smiled. She took a deep breath and reached behind to release her bra in the lovely way women do, just leaning forwards a little so the bra cups fall gently away from their breasts. I smiled again, they were very nice, full, small pale nipples set quite high. She stood facing me for a moment, offered me the bra as - a token, of her submission to me, her acceptance. I lifted it to my nose, breathed in her faint perfume, raised an eyebrow in appreciation. She made a little nervous smile at the compliment then turned, took her place beside Petra, copying her pose, placing her hands behind her back, moved again to spread her knees wider. She was learning what I liked, what I demanded.
I knelt behind her, ran a thumb down her backbone, she stiffened, lifting her breasts, pushing her shoulders back.
“Good Girl,” I told her as I lifted her skirt, tucked it in to her belt. Baring her backside.
She grunted, I think in acceptance. This was going well. I reached under to press her weight into place. There was a move of resistance, a moan of dissent.
“Look at Petra, she’s got hers in already. You’ll be treated the same as her, no easier, no worse.”
She leant back, leaned over to peer between Petra’s thighs.
“Yes master,” and she took her position again, leaning forwards slightly.
There was another ‘grunt’ as I pressed it against her tight ring then she pressed her body down onto it, trying to relax herself, accept it. I pressed upwards, felt that first give as it began to open her, slide in.
She moved away a little briefly then pressed down again, trying to open herself. It worked, slipping in almost with a plop. I pulled lightly on it. It was there, firmly embedded.
“You’ll soon get used to it. It’s there for the weekend. You’ll have to take it out when you need to and put it back straight away afterwards. You’ll find it has the effect of keeping you permanently aroused. I think they’re wonderful.”
The pegs next, I held one open between my fingers, lifted it to hold before her eyes. There was a slight nod of her head. I love it when a girl does that, accepts what is coming to her.
I wrapped my free hand around her breast, pulled her body to lean against mine. I massaged her breast to harden the nipple up some more even though it was already a tight button between my fingers. There was a little mewling from her throat as I moved the peg towards her nipple, I felt her fingers fluttering against my belly, her nails bit into my skin lightly, her safety signal to me if she couldn’t take it.
I stroked the wood over the tip of her nipple, squeezed her breast to project the nipple fully, and let the peg half grip it, felt the tension in her fingers tighten, then relax a little. I let the peg tension go fully, felt her fingernails bite into my belly skin, then slowly relax. She could take it. I moved back, out of reach of her fingers, let the peg flop down against my fingers still gripping her breast. I heard her draw a deep breath. She was ok. Her breathing was heavy as she took in the unaccustomed pain.
“I hate you,” she said with a smile. She breathed in deeply, and out.
“Strange,” she said, on a shuddering long sigh.
Then “I hate it,” through gritted teeth. “Go on, the other one. Quickly.”
“I’m the Master here,” I reminded her and reached around with the gag, tugging it into the corners of her mouth before knotting it back behind her head.
“Keep your chin up. Keep the gag tight in your mouth.”
Then I added the blindfold. She was a novice after all. I’d add the other peg in a while, then remove that first one, let her experience the agony and joy of returning blood flow.
So I left her to settle a while, get used to kneeling upright. If I saw a wobble it was rewarded with a sharp slap of the spatula, she learnt quite quickly.
Susie was late. I went to the front door to see if she was headed back. I left the front door open, to let the cool air chill their backs while the fire heated their bellies. I relented after a minute or two, pulled the door to behind me and set off down the road to look for her. She shouldn’t have been this long. I was by the pub before I saw her walking quickly towards me, the two bottles of milk held correctly, her breasts bouncing nicely, what a comely girl, if that old expression really suited such a young woman. She was quite close before she saw me. I was between lampposts, in the shadows against a tall hedge, where Petra and I had kissed that first night. I was suddenly aware of my new self-confidence. That I could actually consider stopping this girl, take her in my arms and kissing her, right here in the street.
And with that thought came the realisation that I really didn’t want to. I had my girl, Petra. And she was enough for any man.
“You’re late,” I stated as she stopped in front of me, a little breathless.
“Yes Master,” she smiled. “There were two old biddies talking at the checkout and since it was you they were talking about I thought it was best I listen.”
“Anything I need to know?” I asked, a little puzzled.
“Only that you have a new woman in your life. They sounded pleased for you, and a little surprised. Probably because you have two kids of your own already!”
“They’re right,” I said. “A son and a daughter, by my ex-wife. Petra knows all about it. In fact they’ve all met, the kids stayed over for the weekend just a couple of weeks back. They’ll be over again after Xmas too. Petra and my daughter will be talking fashion. My lad and I will get a chance to go up the rec for a kick about.”
“Oh, I suppose that’s good. I’ve been worrying how I’d break it to Petra. I’d have to, you know?”
“I’d expect you to. Don’t worry about it. Did you catch any names?”
“Not really, but they know you two well.”
“There are some good people here. They’ve already helped Petra and me through a couple of dramas.”
“Oh, so it’s all Ok then. That’s a relief. Sir.”
“And you’re late. Go on, get on with you. You’ll know what to do when you get in. I’ll be along in a while.”
“Sir,” and she dropped that naughty curtsy again as she turned towards home.
I stayed in the shadows, watching her, wondering what to do next. I watched her go in, close the door. She didn’t look back. I decided we needed a bottle of wine for later and headed off to the shop.
I came back with three, there was an offer on, and I had my card in my pocket!
I walked in, carried the three bottles through to the kitchen. I stood at the sink, filling the kettle, looking through the open door into the front room.
They were still there, in front of the fire. Kneeling. Skirts tucked in. Bare backed. Bare bottomed.
I switched the kettle on, put coffee and one sugar in my cup. Got milk from the fridge and added it to my cup. I couldn’t reasonably put it off any longer.
I went through, closing the kitchen door behind me. Crossing to the front door and turning the key in the lock, pushing the old blanket against the bottom of the door to stop the draught there.
I crossed to the three kneeling figures, Petra in the centre, Susie at the window side, Alex just in front of my chair. Her skirt tucked up behind, her weight hanging nicely. How lovely they all looked.
“Any problems?” I asked.
Nothing. No answer, just the gentle sway of stiff backs, a flutter of tensing bottoms as they kept their balance.
Chapter 3
All three now wore gags and blindfolds. I leant over to see if they all wore two pegs. They all did, even Alex! I was going to spare her the agony of the circulation returning to both of her pretty titties.
I put my hands on Petra’s shoulders. “Stand up Petra, gently now. You need to stretch.”
I helped her upright, steady her, unclipped her skirt and let it fall around her ankles. Then I lead her through to the kitchen, leading her forward until her thighs bumped the edge of the table. I reached around her, squeezing the pegs to release her nipples. She drew a deep breath as the tingle began, the terrible tingling pain of returning circulation. My hand on her back pressed her forwards, bending her until her breasts were squashed against the cold tabletop.
I gave the extra press that means ‘stay there’ while I released her wrists, drew the blouse from her arms and tossed it towards the cellar door.
“Spread your pretty feet nice and wide so I can test you,” I told her, tapping the light spatula against her taut bottom. She looked so damn good. It was a wrench to go back for the other two.
Alex next. Lifting her up on to her feet, guiding her half way to the kitchen before I stopped her, released her skirt, turned her to release the pegs. She gasped at the tingling and I hugged her to me so she could press her tender nipples into the rough material of my jacket. She soon settled. I pressed her away then and looked down at her figure. The fullness of her hips, her breasts, her thighs. Her bush was her true colour, a medium brown, probably trimmed lightly. Her hair must be lightened a good bit, I reckoned she’d be a mousey blonde at best. It didn’t matter. She was a very feminine woman. I dropped a finger, ran it into her bush, lower. She started to pull away then checked herself, stood straight. With a side step she opened herself, accepting my finger on her slot, tipping forwards so it settled between her lips.
I kept it still, let the rocking of her hips do the work. She was dry at the moment but wouldn’t be for long. She needed to join Petra. I wanted Susie to join the others too. I put Alex beside Petra. Pressing her down, crossing their wrists each behind their own backs. Their ankles touched. A useful place to tie them, I thought. Soon.
Susie next. As I went back for her I closed the door behind me. When I’d got her on her feet I’d bent her over the back of my chair and released her gag and then dropped my hand between the cheeks of her bottom, had a good feel, holding her wrists up her back. Like Alex she’d spread her feet wider after my fingers probed there.
“You,” I said quietly, “were not very nice to my girl friend. I’m going to give you some extra treatment, more than the others get. Like walking through the town with your tits bobbing about.”
“Yes Sir,” she gasped as I probed into her dry slot, nudging the weight and it’s thin chain out of the way, embedded firmly still in her tight backside.
“Besides, I think you’re the kinky one of the bunch. Am I right?”
She swallowed before she said, “I suppose so. Sir.”
I moved my finger to her mouth, “Wet it.”
And her tongue touched, withdrew, then touched again, wetting my fingertip.
“More!”
And she opened her lips, took my finger into her mouth with a little choke, then wrapped her tongue and lips around it.
“Good Girl. Let go when you’re ready for it to go into you sex.”
There was a squirm of her hips, her feet moved wider, her lips opened, her back dipped, then she waited.
“More spit please,” I demanded.
She obliged as best she could, dry mouthed as she was. I moved it between her lips, sliding it in to loosen her, pressed in right there, entering, turning my finger tip upwards.
“Ever tasted yourself?”
“No Sir.”
“Positive?”
“Not deliberately Sir. On a dick, when I sucked it clean. A man made me do that once. Afterwards. I didn’t like it much. Sir, Please. The other place. You can use my front as much as you like, Sir. But my back passage-”
“What? The little plug?”
“It’s horrible ... Sir.”
“So?”
“Can I take it out, Sir? Please?”
“No chance. Anything Petra can do, you’ll be doing too, only more so. There’ll be times this weekend when I’ll leave you tied up, with the other two free to do what they like to you. Do you trust them?”
After a pause she said, “Yes Sir,” but not very convincingly.
“You were pretty tough on Petra.”
“We were friends.”
“You were a bully, she was a victim.”
“It wasn’t like that, not then. We were just playing, learning.”
“If you’d been a boy it would have been rape, you know that?”
“But she was as turned on as I was. I made sure.”
“And I’m going to put things up your arse and play with your tits and shove things up your pussy and you’ll probably get very turned on too, but that doesn’t mean you’ll like it. And Petra’s going to help me. Maybe that’ll make it evens. Right?”
She took a moment to absorb this, then got to her feet, facing me, almost eye to eye in her heels. She was tall.
“I need to tell you something first. Before we go any further.”
“Go on.”
“I was raped as a child, as a nine year old. It doesn’t bother me now. I got over it. But it was anal. Up my backside. Sir. I don’t want to do that anymore.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Men can be shits sometimes.”
“It was a couple.”
“Does that make any difference?”
“Not really. I was still a little girl, but I’ve worked things out since. I know now that I used Petra, as you call her, to work things out, to act things out. I was trying to understand what had happened to me. I think it helped me, to see how doing those things could be - fun. As a child it made no sense to me, it just hurt and wasn’t right. As a teenager, with Petra, I began to understand the feelings that they must have had. I was always very careful with Petra. Made sure she was turned on. That she was with me in our ‘games’. And it’s virtually cured me. I can - go - with a man. My anger at ‘them’, the ones that did it to me, is still there but I understand now. They were the weak ones, not me. Nor is Petra. She’s the strongest person I know.”
“I agree. But that thing up your bum is going to stay there. I can’t treat you differently. I’ll keep an eye on you. I wish you’d said something before, on the phone.”
“I wanted to, but Petra was always with you. She doesn’t know, you see?”
“Bloody Hell. I’m about to take you in there and spank you backsides and now you tell me this.”
“Oh that’s OK. Just nothing - nothing bigger in my arse, please?”
“Sir?”
“Sir. Sorry Sir. Is that two extra spanks? Sir?”
“At least. And you’ll be first so no squealing.”
“Yes Sir. Sir? Thank you. Sir,” then she opened her jaw wide as I offered up the gag again. I pressed it deep between her lips and reached around her to tie it. As she stood in front of me my arms wrapped around her and held her close for maybe a minute. Her breathing calmed, I hope she understood all I couldn’t put into words. Her perfume was nice, not too strong but very feminine.
I opened the door and lead her through, tugging her roughly as a show for the others. She winked her understanding, pretended a stumble, then she was being pushed down beside Petra. I fiddled with her weight until she realised she had to open her legs too.
I took a long length of cord and tied each girls ankle to her neighbours. Then two short pieces to do their wrists, Susie to Alex’s, their arms crossing behind Petra’s back, then Petra’s out to each side, the far side of each girl.
I let them get used to the feeling of light bondage while I blindfolded each of them. That done I pressed a finger into Petra, just a half an inch into her pussy. I worked my way along the line and back again. Oh, the lovely sight as each of them in turn struggled to accommodate my finger, the wriggles, moans, and the encouragement of their neighbours as I pressed it deeper. The different feel of each of them. More muscle tone with Petra, and more wetness. But each was different, one softer, another tighter, different colours too, between their lips, inside. When each was nicely wet, moving with one of my fingers comfortably deep inside her then it was time to move on.
“STAND UP,” I commanded, just to watch them struggle to their feet.
“Stand up straight!” Petra knew I meant stick your chest out. Susie felt her movement and copied it. I had to grip Alex’s nipples and draw her upright, a hand pressed on the small of her back to push her belly forwards so her shoulders moved back, her chest up.
“Sweet,” I told them. “But now it’s punishment time. Tits on the table in the kitchen. Quickly but mind the step!”
Six lovely cheeks, and one spatula. I flickered down the line, back again, not too hard, to let them know how it felt.
A pause, then much harder, bringing gasps and squirms from all but Petra.
Random then, bringing heat to each bottom until none of them could actually stand still any more.
Then a longer break, letting them squirm, expecting more, relieved for a long minute then expecting - what?
“Stand.”
“Turn around, in a line.”
They made it, slowly. Shuffling in a circle around Petra, their tied ankles making it very difficult for them.
I helped with random and deliberate slaps, spatula and hand, to thighs, breasts, tugs on pegs, and fingering of their pussies, all quite wet now. The effect of their stinging bottoms and teased pussies. I realised their tingling nipples were being ignored. Too much had been going on down below.
I enjoyed their stirrings, adding to their movements, gripped one or the others already tender nipples, and teasing their pussies too as I moved up and down the line. It was interesting how each moved, Susie, the most experienced to being groped, was also the most likely to pull away from first contact. She only returned on her terms, offering her button to be played with, until it again was too ripe, or too painful, to tolerate any more, then she’d move away again, gather herself, before she could offered herself again. And as I played with Susie I realised that Petra, beside her, was being affected too, Alex’s movements stirred something in Petra, even Susie, on the other end of the line, was breathing hard, and wetness showed between the swollen lips of her pussy.
I moved to her. Hands on her breasts first, teasing her tender buds. Her moans expressed the agony, the excitement, of having to accept my hands, the pain and ecstasy they produced.
When I’d got each to a well-lubed pitch, I could play with one and watch her movements triggering the sensuality in their neighbour, I could play with anything that came to hand. So long as I kept moving from one to another the three of them became more and more open to my touch, pressing their breasts into my hands, their hips forwards to swallow my fingers.
I had to stop, re-arrange them. I wanted them in a triangle, facing inwards. Oh, the complaints as they realised I was moving them around again, grunting into their gags, shaking their hips. A few blows of the spatula put a stop to that. It was nice being the boss, and the scent of three soppy wet pussies was quite intoxicating.
I soon had their wrists free, and bent to tie Susie’s ankle to Alex’s, closing the circle. I moved the trio away from the table, over to one side of the kitchen against the wall. I got a chair, placed a chair near the girls and took a seat, spatula in hand.
A few swats had then shuffling away from me until they reached the corner between two walls. I groped the bottom nearest to me, swatting the one on my left, left handed, keeping the trio continually on the move. One wanted sensation, another was trying to escape the sting of the spatula. All of them were pushing and tugging at each other in their excitement.
I’d hoped, just maybe, they’d all come together but Susie went into orgasm as I spanked her bottom and back. Her shuddering was the first clue, her pressing against the other two, head back, groaning her pleasure into her gag, and finally sagging, almost pulling the other two off their feet. I had to jump up, support her while she recovered a bit. I released her from the other two as she regained some composure, still breathing heavy. I gave her the spatula and a clear instruction, “Bring them off.”
She sat on my chair, the spatula across her knee, and reached out, gripping the curly hairs of each girl, drawing them to her, then reaching under she began slapping upwards with the handle of the spatula. Clacks as she hit the weights that dangled from their bottoms, squeals of complaint. She began slipping a finger into each of them. The girls moved closer, until they could trap that hand against Susie’s knee. I released their gags so they could demand. And they did, calling poor Susie all sorts of names, most of them lewd and ancient Saxon. The spanking was working though, they each began to reach their final satisfaction, soon coming together, their hands teasing each others breasts, caressing each others faces, kissing, licking.
I stood back, dropped my trousers to the floor and stepped closer to them. Stroking my hardness, waiting to see which would come first, I’d have the other, bent face down over my table, from behind, slapping her bottom as I drove into it. Then their passion began to climax, they were coming together, in a noisy, fruity, delicious coming. Sodden wetness on Susie’s hands, knees. Her face happy as they came, sad at not being part of it.
“Up,” I said to her, “Get over that table. I have a need.”
She moved quickly, I was right behind her, pushing into her before she’d even settled on her elbows.
Ohh, so nice to slide deep into her, so slippery but still quite tight. Delicious. And she wanted it so badly, tilting her hips back so I’d push deep into her. She tried to hold me there, pulling me in against her. I was working it from side to side. Her hips responded as much as she could, working in little squirms, trying to get me deeper, fill her more.
I didn’t last long, neither did she. I’m not sure if she came, she said so, but ... And I made a new rule. The girl I spend in is responsible for cleaning me up, by mouth. Susie only had herself to blame. She’d told me she didn’t like doing that, but unfortunately she’d agreed to do whatever I said too. I smiled, until she dragged her teeth along the top of JT. I grabbed her hair, pulled her face up. Let her see me pass the spatula to Petra.
“Six to her bottom, to each cheek, hard as you can.”
Petra looked puzzled. So did Alex.
“She tried to scratch me with her teeth.”
That was all they needed. Alex took her bunch of hair from my hand and dragged her to the table, spread her across it. Petra kicked her ankles apart, wide apart. Then she began. I left them to it.
I knew I only had a limited capacity to come, and they all wanted it as sex often as possible, in every way, in anyway. They’d have to work on each other. I had to save myself for the good bits.
When I’d been cleaned I made them all bend over the table again, holding hands, and gave each one of them some good hard slaps of the spatula. It seemed to finish off the session nicely. They were very good about washing each other at the kitchen sink. They weren’t allowed to wash their own bodies. They each had to present themselves to another to get cleaned up, and being sexed up the poses they used were sexual too, hips thrust forwards, their fingers holding their lips open to the flannel, hips rocking back as it’s pressed into them, and a sigh. All done before my own eyes, they were quite unaware, blindfolded still, of what a gorgeous spectacle they presented. And being girls, blindfolded, the sex began to take control again, Petra gripping two hands into her crutch, pressing them there as she ground her hips on them. The other two began grabbing for any hand they could find, working themselves up too. I even pressed my own hand between their bodies, found it manipulated, a finger extended, pushed into wetness, and locked there, painfully, by closed thighs.
These girls were insatiable. I was going to have to keep them apart if I wanted to control what was going on. The blindfolds seem to release all self-control. The three being competitive, each wanting to come, it was going to be interesting so long as I could stay in control, stop them being bitchy. I managed to extricate myself, click the kettle on, sit back and watch. Susie dropped out first, stepping back, reaching behind her to remove her blindfold. I watched her emerging, blinking, flushed, breathless, coming back to normality. I offered her my cup, she took a sip, a draught, snuggled down onto my lap, smiling, wrapping an arm around my neck, keeping her legs well apart. But not for me. She grabbed my wrist when I moved to stroke there.
“No more. Please. Not yet.”
I nodded understanding.
“Later,” she added. “Just not yet! I’d go mad. Shall I get you some more coffee?”
“Some yogurt, please, on your breasts! There’s some in the fridge, bring a spoon.”
“I think -” she took a breath. “I think I can cope with that, if that’s all you want.”
“For now,” I told her, watching her cross the kitchen, barely enough strength in her legs to carry her gorgeous body. She bent straight legged to reach in the fridge, looked back around her parted legs to see if I was looking at her. I was definitely looking at her, looking at me, and I was smiling again.
The other two had reached some mutual agreement to stop, to rest. They were removing their blindfolds too, coming back into reality. Hands still post-coital clumsy, bodies flushed and starting to feel the cool air around them, the wetness on their thighs, in their groins.
“Please,” grunted Petra, “Coffee.”
“Unn-hunn,” begged Alex, pulling Petra towards her for more cuddles.
Petra twisted free, laughing gently, “Do you never know when to stop, you’re as bad as Susie. I hope Graham ties you up this weekend then you will be at my mercy. And I won’t stop, no matter how much you beg me. Just like Susie used to do to me! It becomes agony after a while, you know? Being made to come over and over. You know those trembly moments afterwards. Urrgh. He does that too, just when you really want to be left alone.”
I laughed at her, probably not wise, but she was in sub mode, I got away with it.
I told them to through when they were ready but to leave their clothes in the front room.
Chapter 4
Lunch, eventually, had been a lively affair that first day. Petra had resolved any worries she had about Susie’s best friend Alex and all three were now chattering away in that way women do.
I found it impossible, most of the time, as a mere male, to work out who was actually talking, and often had my doubts that anyone was listening. There were so many “‘did he’s’”, ‘No-o-o’s, Never!’”, and other strange tribal responses that trying to pick out a single thread from the gabbling wasn’t possible for a mere male.