Spring Break On A Texas Estate

Spring Break On A Texas Estate

Ch 9

Friday evening was quiet. Everyone seemed to be tired. The boys unchained the slaves and permitted us to get dressed. They even cooked dinner.

Maria was pretty banged up after her whipping and Mark went to her room to check on her. She was awake and her face lit up when he walked in. She struggled to get out of bed to kneel at his feet. She was so stiff and weak that she practically fell out of bed. Mark caught her and put her back. She tearfully begged him to let her suck his cock. He tucked her in and told her that she would be sucking his cock for many years to come, but for now she was to rest. She pouted a little but obeyed him.

When I checked on her she told me that she was so deeply happy that she had a new strong master. I joked that she acted like she was in love with my son. She nodded solemnly.

“It is wonderful for a woman to be the slave of the man she loves,” Maria told me. “It makes the pain so sweet.”

“What about your husband?” I asked.

“Oh, I love him,” Maria said. “But is the old comfortable reclining chair kind of love. My love for Master Mark is the fire and earthquake love. My pussy burns when I think of him and his whip.”

“I know,” I said. “My pussy burns for the whip too. I told him that on his twenty first birthday he may whip me with El Toro.”

Maria's eyes grew wide.

“I will permit hit to whip me one stroke of the whip for each year of his life,” I told her.

Maria's eyes slowly glazed over. Her tongue appeared between her lips. She kicked off the sheets and slowly pulled her night gown to her waist.

“Twenty one strokes!” she whispered in awe. “Twenty one deaths and rebirths. My God!”

Her hand was caressing her pussy, the other tracing the angry red welt across her breasts. I sat in a chair and lifted my skirt. My hand slipped into my pussy.

“Senora Albers, may I also be whipped on Mark's birthday?” Maria breathed. “Twenty one times?”

I rubbed my pussy furiously as I envisioned myself hanging beside Maria as the terrible whip set fire to our bodies. I yanked my panties off and threw them across the room. I sprawled in the chair, pinching my clitoris and squeezing my nipple. Maria sobbed, then groaned loudly as she same. I came too and slid out of the chair. I crawled to the bed and reached for Maria's hand. We clasped hands as the delicious pink waves rippled from our pussies through our souls.

“Man, your mom just doesn't get enough!” I heard a voice say admiringly.

I opened my eyes and saw Tom and one of the guests watching us in the door way.

Tom looked at me, then Maria, then walked away.

“My mom is a masochistic nymphomaniac slave slut,” I heard him say proudly.

“Lucky bastard,” the guest told him.

“Yeah, I know,” my son said. Their footsteps faded down the hall.

Maria and I giggled.

We checked on Maria all evening and although she insisted that she felt fine, but it was obvious that she was in a lot of pain. Mark sat up in her room all night. I crept in at midnight. Maria was sleeping fitfully.

“Mom, I may have really injured her,” Mark said remorsefully. “She looks terrible.”

“Maria will be fine in a day or two,” I told him. “And believe me, even though her body is in pain, she is very happy in spirit.”

“I should never have hit her with El Toro,” he said.

“It wasn't just El Toro that laid her up,” I said. “Hanging and whipping her for several hours did. EL Toro was just icing on the cake. And make no mistake, Maria is ecstatic now that you've tamed her. She has wanted to feel El Toro at your hands for a long time.”

“She has?”

“Oh yes.”

“But I went too far,” he said. “I should have been more careful. I don't deserve to be a master.”

“You will be a wonderful master,” I told him. “And don't worry about injuring Maria. She revels in her pain. I still revel in the memories of whippings I received from your father.”

“Did dad ever hurt you, really hurt you?” he said.

“Many times,” I replied. “There were many nights when he sat up watching over me after whipping me nearly to death. He always felt remorse and I always had to convince him afterwards that I was ok and loved being whipped.”

“Was there a time as bad as this?” Mark asked, pointing to Maria.

“Much worse.”

His face showed disbelief.

“In Africa your father whipped with a Kurbash,” I told Mark. “A Kurbash is the worst whip on earth. Worse by far that El Toro.”

His eyes widened. “You mean that thing in the barn?”

“Yes, and I know I promised to let you whip me with El Toro on your birthday, but you may never, ever whip me with the Kurbash. And you must never use it on anyone else.”

“Ok Mom, but tell me what happened.”

“We were on safari and had camped near a village. We had about twenty people in our party including some English and Canadian friends, who by the way, were not into slavery, they were just ordinary people.

“The village consisted of blacks, Arabs and some Portuguese who ran a pumping station at a nearby dam.

“The village market sold everything from fresh eggs to ivory. I was wandering around when I saw the Kurbash on display in a stall. My pussy tingled the second I laid eyes on it. The merchant was an evil looking Arab who stared at my body like he was going to rape me on the spot. I was wearing shorts and a sleeveless blouse and he stared at me like I was naked.

“Now I've been taken many times in rape fantasies by lots of men, but that Arab was so disgusting that I just knew being raped by him would not be enjoyable. I was frightened and rushed back to camp. Later I told your father about the whip and took him to the market to see it.

“The Arab didn't speak English but it was very clear that he thought that the whip should be used on me, a white woman who displayed herself so shamelessly. A crowd gathered and watched while your father and the Arab bargained for the whip. Your father didn't like the Arab either and decided not to pay a penny more than he had to.

“They finally reached an agreement and your father bought the whip. The Arab handed it to him and pointed to me. Your father indicated that the whip was indeed intended for me. The Arab nodded and threw a little extra into the bargain. He picked up a braided leather rope and motioned me to approach. I hesitated but he yanked me to him and tied my hands together in front of me, then handed the rope to your dad with the obvious indication that I ought not be allowed to walk around unsupervised.

“I was already quivering with excitement, but you father went his usual extra step. He shook his head at the Arab and untied my wrists. I was disappointed until he pulled my arms behind my back and tied them there. Then he grabbed the front of my blouse and ripped it open. The crowd cheered when my breasts bounced into view. Your father ripped the blouse to shreds leaving me naked from the waist up.”

“Wow, way to go Dad,” Mark chuckled.

“It gets better,” I said. “Your father tied another rope around my neck, then tossed the end over a awning pole and hoisted me up till I was on tip toe. He turned me in a circle so that everyone could get a good look. I was choking but managed to whisper to him: “My shorts, take off my shorts.”

“Your father handed the end of my leash to the Arab, who promptly tightened it until I thought I'd pass out, then your father yanked my shorts off, then my panties. The cheers were louder. Your dad even took my shoes off and tossed them and my clothes to the crowd. There was a mad scramble and a young boy emerged proudly waving my panties.

“I wanted to be whipped me right then and there. I was incredibly excited, and I also wanted that horrid Arab to see how a Texas lady could take a whipping. Your dad tweaked my nipple and told me that I'd get my whipping back at the camp, then he led me naked through the dusty streets back to the camp.

“I was so excited that I could barely contain myself. I'd walked bound and naked through crowds before, but always at a bondage meet on private property somewhere, but this was different, I was in public. In full view of men, women and children. I trotted behind your father on the dirt streets of an African village while everyone looked, and I loved it!

“Some of the crowd followed us to the camp and you should have seen the expressions on our friends' faces when we arrived. Your father tied my leash to a free limb and gathered our party together to explain what was going on. One English couple was outraged and the woman demanded that I be released or she would report your father to the authorities. Your father told her to ask me if I wanted to be released. He looped the Kurbash over a limb then walked away.

“The others reacted differently, ranging from bafflement to outright interest.

“Everyone crowded around me, and I started to explain about being a slave. The angry English lady untied me and undid the leash around my neck. I promptly retied it, then tied my wrists together, although I had to tie them in front. I tossed the rope over the tree limb and asked if anyone would secure it for me. One of the men looked at your father, who was sitting in the shade drinking a beer. He nodded and the man tugged the rope until my arms were over my head. I asked him to pull me a little higher and he did until I was on my toes again. He tied the rope off and I thanked him sweetly.

“The English woman was so furious that she stalked away, followed by her husband. The rest of our friends stood and listened to my story. None was outraged and several were intrigued. I noticed that one couple from Canada kept exchanging glances, and wondered if they were already in the scene.

“One lady asked what had brought this on all of a sudden. I told them that I'd seen the Kurbash for sale and asked my husband to buy it for me. I apologized and told then that we hadn't intended for this to turn into a bondage event, but explained what happened in the market place and how excited I'd gotten. They examined the whip and several women got strange, hungry looks on their faces.

“Eventually everyone accepted what was going on, although one or too still seemed doubtful. No one demanded that I be released. The Canadian couple disappeared into their tent and weren't seen for hours. The angry couple from England packed their Land Rover and drove away that afternoon. We never saw or heard from them again.

“I waited under the tree all afternoon. Your dad walked off into the woods to practice with the Kurbash. The locals squatted and stared at me while they talked among themselves. I giggled to myself as the members of our party watched me but tried not to be seen staring. Towards sundown more people arrived until the whole village was present.

“Your father hired some men to erect two poles in the center of the camp. The poles were twelve feet tall and twenty feet apart so they wouldn't interfere with the swing of the whip.

“At sunset they lit a circle of bonfires around me. Your father led me to the poles and tied ropes to my wrists and ankles. He hoisted me between the poles until my head was ten feet in the air and my legs were spread as far apart as they'd ever been in my life.

“The camp grew very quiet as he swung the whip around his head. It made a terrifying sound. A buzzing, hissing roar, just like El Toro. I watched that whip with more fear and excitement than I'd ever felt in my life. I was close to coming just from the sound of it.”

“I thought Maria was going to come before the whip touched her today,” Mark said.

“So did I,” I told him.

He chuckled.

“Your father slowed the whip, then struck the first blow.” I continued. “It curled around my ribs and cracked under my breast. It was like being touched with a white hot iron. I came immediately and screamed to rattle the stars!”

“Wow.”

“I screamed from the pain, and from the pleasure, from the orgasm and from the release of all the sexual tension that had built up inside me.

“I screamed at every stroke and I never closed my eyes during my whipping. I either looked into your father's eyes, or at that Arab. And after every blow I thanked your father and asked for another.

“Your father whipped me slowly and for the Kurbash, very lightly. Had he struck me with real force I think I would have been killed, even so, the pain was horrific. Thank God I'm a masochist, otherwise I doubt if I would have survived.

“Did you think to ask dad to stop?”

‘Heavens no! After all, I had asked for the whipping. And don't get me wrong,” I said. “I loved it, especially since there were so many people watching. Every eye was fixed on me.”

“I bet you hated that,” Mark laughed.

“Oh, of course,” I said primly. “You know that your mother is no exhibitionist.”

“Sure, mom.”

“The villagers watched impassively,” I said. “But the Arabs were visibly excited and the Portuguese were nearly foaming at the mouth. Most of our traveling companions were very agitated. The men squirmed as they watched, so did most of the wives. One woman in particular kept her face buried in her hands and her body jerked each time I screamed. Once she looked up at me and I saw the pure lust in her eyes. I knew she wanted to be up there instead of me.

“Your father gave me thirty strokes in all. Some were simple cuts with the whip, others were wrap arounds. At number twenty six I looked into his eyes, then lowered my face against my right shoulder and winked at him. He knew what I wanted.

“He sent the Kurbash over my left shoulder. It curled down my back, wrapped between my legs and the tip snapped against my belly. I lifted my face to the sky and screamed so loudly that it seemed to echo off the stars. I pulled myself up in the my ropes and shrieked and shrieked. Then I took a deep breath, I smiled at your father and rolled my face to the left. The whip came over my right shoulder and snapped up against my tummy.

“It was about that time when I noticed I was losing my voice from screaming. When I stopped jerking in my ropes I thanked your father and deliberately jiggled my breasts. He understood and lengthened the next stroke so that the whip curled between my legs and snapped against my nipple.

“To this day I remember that orgasm! The sky seemed to spin over me and the ground rolled like the ocean. I screamed and came and came and came! I fainted for a few seconds. When I woke up I smiled with as much perkiness as I could manage, smiled at that Arab, then tucked my face on my left shoulder. Your father's aim was precise. The whip got my other nipple perfectly.

“When I regained my senses from that blow I looked around the camp then at your father.

“Last one,” he told me.

“I made a humping motion with my pelvis, which is hard to do when you are tied so tightly, but he and everyone else understood. He stretched the whip along the ground behind him. With a flick of his wrist he sent a long ripple down the whip, then another stronger one, and another, until the Kurbash looked like a huge snake writhing on the earth. Then, like a striking cobra he sent it into my pussy. The whip cracked a millionth of an inch from my pussy. I'm not even sure it touched me, but it didn't matter. It felt like the sun had exploded inside my pussy. I screamed and fainted.

“I woke up the next afternoon in our tent. My body hurt like fire, and tingled every time I remembered the Kurbash, but the most serious effect was I couldn't talk.”

“You couldn't?” Marked asked astonished.

I nodded. “My throat was so raw that I couldn't say a word for several days. It hurt to eat and drink. It was like the worst case of strep throat in history.

“We remained in the village for a few days and your father hovered over me every waking moment. When I was better we continued our trip.”

“Wow!” Mark whispered.

“Now you see that what you did to Maria wasn't so terrible,” I told him. “She will survive.”

He seemed to take comfort from this.

“By the way,” he asked. “ Did that couple get into bondage? The ones that seemed so interested?”

“The Canadians? Yes, but not the way you think,” I told him.

His eyebrows rose.

“During the night everyone was wakened by the sound of someone being whipped. They found the Canadian man tied between the poles being flogged by his wife with a piece of rope. They were both stark naked.”

“No kidding?”

“Yep, and the next day she bought a whip in the market place,” I told him. “Just a regular whip, not a Kurbash.”

“Totally cool!”

Maria survived but she was still in a lot of pain the next morning so I called our family doctor and asked him to come out and check on her.

Doctor Davis has been our family physician for decades and he is wonderful about making house calls to our place. He knows that we never ask him to come out unless its absolutely necessary and he understands when discretion is needed.

‘Doctor Davie' as we call him, was into the scene and used to bring his wife to some of our parties. His wife enjoyed bondage but wasn't too keen on torture so she often declined invitations to the more intense sessions. Doctor Davie often had to come alone but we always saw to it that we had a spare slave girl for him.

He was devastated when his wife died a few years ago, and he stopped coming to the parties. Even after the mourning period passed he stayed away despite all our invitations. My husband had me delivered bound and gagged to the doctor's house one evening in an effort to entice him from his grief.

He is a gentleman and rather than hurt my feelings by turning me away, he gave me a number of spankings and floggings and had me suck his cock, but I could tell that the poor man's heart just wasn't into it.

Another of my friends, Betty Rainer, made an appointment to see him and arrived at his office naked under her coat save for a bondage harness. In the examination room she took off her coat, explained the situation to his nurse, and actually talked the nurse into tying her to the examination table. The doctor was busy with another patient and Betty ended up waiting for quite some time. The nurse was intrigued and when Doctor Davis walked in he found Betty happily extolling the delights of slavery to a blushing, but fascinated nurse. The nurse fled when he entered but she heard Betty telling the doctor that she needed a really good flogging followed by a long fuck. Ever the gentleman, he did fuck Betty on the table but despite her pleas, he wouldn't whip her in the office, saying that the noise would carry.

He came to the house and checked Maria over. She showed her welts proudly.

Doctor Davie complimented Mark on the splendid whip work but suggested that if he was going to put his slaves through marathon whippings, that they ought not to be suspended the entire time.

“Maria is exhausted,” the doctor told us. “And she's dehydrated. Hanging a woman by her wrists for more than a couple of hours puts a serious strain on her system.”

“But Doctor, I had many, many orgasms,” Maria interjected with a proud smile.

“Yes, but each orgasm burns up a lot of energy,” he told her.

Maria stretched contentedly. “I will regain my energy when I have taken a nap. Then I will be ready for my Padrone again.” She looked at Mark adoringly.

“Absolutely not,” the doctor said. “No whippings for you for at least three days.”

Maria's mouth flew open in indignation.

“You heard what the doctor said,” Mark said firmly.

“Si, padrone,” she said meekly.

Doctor Davie agreed to stay for lunch. I whispered for Mark to keep him busy for a few minutes and motioned for Tom to follow me to my room.

“The doctor probably hasn't had fun with a slave in several years,” I told Tom. “Let's see if we can get him out of his shell.”

“Ok, Mom. What do you have in mind?”

“I want you to prepare me for torture then bring him up here.”

I knew that the doctor had enjoyed placing his wife into exceptionally strict bondage. They practiced cocooning and mummification. Sometimes at parties he would wrap her from head to toe in linen bindings until only her nostrils were uncovered, then he would lean her against the wall and have fun with other slaves while she remained immobile. I personally never really enjoyed that sort of thing but she told me that being mummified gave her a long steady tingle in her pussy.

I decided to present myself to the doctor as tightly bound as possible.

I undressed and dug out a set of leather bands from my closet. They are thick, heavy, unlined leather, dyed a dull reddish brown and equipped with massive iron buckles. They resemble harness for a plow horse.

I lay on the bed and Tom started at my ankles with a five inch wide strap. He worked his way up my legs buckling one strap above and another below my knees. Then a wide belt went around my waist and a slimmer one under my breasts. Tom rolled me over and buckled my wrists together, then my upper arms. He tugged that one so tight that my elbows were touching. He sat me up and put a couple more straps around my arms and chest, and finally a stiff posture collar on my neck.

When he finished I was almost covered by the straps. It was impossible to move and difficult to breathe. Tom stepped back and looked me over.

“Now tighten each buckle one more notch,” I told him.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don't think they could be any tighter.”

“One more notch, dear.”

He strained and tugged at the buckles and had to press his knee against my body to get leverage, but he managed to tighten the straps. I felt my hands and feet going numb before he finished.

“That's as tight as they are going to get,” Tom said. “I can't even force my finger between them and your skin.”

“Perfect,” I said. “Just the way Doctor Davie likes it.”

“Are you sure he'd want your legs strapped together?” Tom asked. “Won't he want to fuck you?”

“If he wants my legs apart, I'm sure he'll get them open,” I said. “But we'll start off like this. Now hang me upside down.”

He pushed the wall button that lowered a cable from the ceiling. He clipped the cable to my ankle strap and hoisted my feet into the air. I slid along the bed until my head was clear of the mattress. He raised me until my head about three feet above the floor.

“How's that?”

“Wonderful,” I said. “Now go get the Doctor.”

‘Ok,” He grasped my nipples and walked backwards to the door, pulling my body with him. He released me and walked out.

I was still swinging when Doctor Davie walked in.

“My dear Mrs. Albers! You didn't have to go to all this trouble,” he protested.

“Its the least I can do, doctor. After all, you came all the way out here on the weekend when I'm sure you had plans.”

“Actually, I am playing golf this afternoon,” he said, glancing at his watch. “But not until two o'clock.”

I read the bedroom clock from my upside down position.

“That gives you four hours to have your way with me,” I said. “Help yourself to the whips in my closet.”

He opened the closet door and examined the assortment of whips, paddles, crops and nipple clamps.

“Splendid collection,” he said. “But I've always been rather partial to spanking ladies with my bare hand.”

He removed his jacket and tie and hung them carefully in the closet. Then he spanked me.

 

Doctor Davie spanked me for four hours. He started with me upside down and spanked my ass and breasts until they were bright pink. He is surprisingly strong and I was squealing in genuine, but delicious pain. At my suggestion, he gagged me.

After warming me up, the doctor took a position beside me, spread his feet to a firm stance, extended his arm and smacked my butt in a full roundhouse swing that knocked me into a pendulum motion. He watched until my swing and writhing had subsided a bit, then hit me again. I watched him in the mirror. He rotated his upper body and swung his arm as if he were playing handball. At each blow my pelvis shot forward, my head and shoulders snapped back and my body went into a convulsive ripple. I rocked back and forth as I swung. His hand stung my bottom like fire and I had orgasm after orgasm.

Always the professional medical man, Doctor Davie watched me carefully and when he determined that I had been hanging upside down long enough he clipped a leather strap to my collar, lifted my head and shoulders, and hooked its other end to my ankles. This bent me at the waist and kept my head up, which was more comfortable, but made my butt more accessible.

The new position placed my bottom at the level of the doctor's cock. He undressed completely and forced his iron hard cock between my legs. It didn't go inside my pussy but must have felt warm and tight enough to him, because he came and spurted between my legs. His semen even spurted through to land on my belly. I thought it was delightful.

He went into the bathroom and washed up, then lowered me to the floor. He lifted me easily and carried me to a chair. He bent me over his lap and spanked me some more. I was impressed to feel his cock grow hard and press against my tummy. I tried to talk through my gag to suggest that he undo my legs and fuck me, but of course I was unintelligible. He ignored my mumbling and spanked my butt with a steady, relentless rhythm that drove me wild.

After about a thousand or so spanks the doctor placed me on the bed. He put me face down and slid his cock between my legs again. My pussy was warmer and much damper now. I'd never been fucked that way and it was oddly pleasant. It got better when he rolled me onto my back and forced his cock between my legs from the front. Even though it didn't enter my pussy, his cock rubbed my clitoris in a delightful fashion. I came several times. So did he.

During a break, he glanced out the window.

“Do your sons know how to properly hang a woman without injuring her?” he asked.

I nodded.

“That's reassuring, because they're hanging your daughter and your niece from a tree limb,” he said. “And the other young men are whipping them.”

I made a sound under my gag trying to let him know that I wasn't worried for the girls. He seemed to understand. He watched for a moment then turned from the window.

“Does your daughter enjoy torture?” he asked.

I nodded as well as I could in the collar.

“Well, if she is half the slave and half the woman that you are, she will fetch a high price someday.”

I was quite flattered. I wanted him to fuck me. I muttered in my gag and thrashed my legs as much as possible.

“I know what you want,” he chuckled. “But I enjoy intercourse with a woman with her legs closed.”

I frowned uncomprehendingly.

“My wife liked to be bound from head to toe,” he said. “I wrapped her in leather, rubber, ropes, you name it. And she enjoyed wearing restrictive costumes. She had a number of them, including a mermaid costume,” he explained.

“The seamstress was very clever and made the upper half so that my wife's breasts were bare but her arms were secured at her back. The costume blended her arms so smoothly against her body that it appeared that she had no arms. The lower part was a fish tail that kept her legs tightly together. A vee shaped opening in the front was designed to expose her pussy to view, but one evening I thrust my cock between her legs and fucked her in that fashion. We discovered that we enjoyed that very much. After that I usually fucked her with her legs together.”

My heart melted. I vowed to myself to have a mermaid costume made and let dear sweet Doctor Davie fuck me to his heart's desire. Then it occurred to me that I could also have costumes made for the girls and Maria. He could have a whole school of mermaid slaves.

An image popped into my mind of four mermaids; my daughter, my niece, my maid, and me, on the ground flopping like fish out of water while the doctor fucked us. Another image caught my imagination too. This time we were hanging upside down from a rack on a dock, like freshly caught game fish, while the doctor proudly posed in front of us. My pussy tingled.

Doctor Davie showered and dressed, then rehung me upside down from the ceiling. He stepped back and smacked my breast one last time with a blow that set me spinning, then with a slight bow, he left.

Tom brought everyone to my room to show them the heavy leather bands around my body. Naturally this led to me getting spanked by all six boys.

Since it was their last night at the estate the boys took us to dinner. They wanted to go to someplace special. We slaves dressed in formal outfits, but had to wear slacks and long sleeves to conceal our whip marks. Maria was too exhausted to go and stayed in bed. My sons loaned our guests suits and ties and we drove to town in the old stretched limo. We had a delightful dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants and it was pleasant for the three of us to be escorted by six handsome young gentlemen.

We made a bit of a stir when we entered the restaurant. The maitre d' made a show of conducting us to our table and the boys jockeyed to hold our chairs for us. I smiled at several people I knew and got a couple of knowing smiles from some of my closer friends. The ones who knew why I would be wearing long sleeves and slacks.

One couple, Paul and Evelyn Griffin, stopped by our table, and while the boys were introduced to Paul, Evelyn and I made kissing noises an inch from each other's cheek.

“My dear, aren't you roasting in that outfit?” Evelyn asked me archly. “Long sleeves on a warm night like this?”

She wore several bangle bracelets on each wrist and briefly slid them back to reveal fresh deep indentations from leather wrist cuffs.

“What have you been up to lately?” I asked.

“Oh, you know,” she said. “The same old things.”

She bent forward and whispered in my ear. “Actually I've been hanging from the rafters all afternoon while hubby whipped my tits.” I glanced at her breasts and saw fresh whip marks above her bra. She straightened up. “What about you?” she asked in a normal tone.

“I've been doing the same,” I said. “All week long.”

She smiled at my joke, then saw that I wasn't smiling. She glanced at the girls who were smiling sweetly at her. Kathy touched her fingertips together in a gesture of satisfaction. Ann made a show of examining her nails. Evelyn frowned in puzzlement for a moment, then she realized that the girls were in long sleeves too. Her mouth dropped open.

“Are you serious?” she gasped.

“We've had house guests this week,” Ann told her.

“Mark's fraternity buddies from college,” Kathy added.

Evelyn looked at the other end of the table, where the boys were chatting with her husband. The group looked perfectly normal, a group of clean cut, well bred young men speaking respectfully to an older gentleman.

Evelyn clamped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes grew even bigger. I nodded in confirmation.

She squealed faintly behind her hand, then with a visible effort, got herself under control. She pressed her hands to her bosom, rolled her eyes up to heaven, and took several deep breaths.

“We just have to get together for lunch,” she said breathlessly. “You must tell me everything.”

“That will require a long lunch,” Ann laughed. “Its been a long week.”

“A very, very long week,” giggled Kathy.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” Evelyn said to me. “I can't wait to hear the story.”

She kissed my cheek and went to her husband. “I hate to interrupt gentlemen,” she said to the boys. “But we just have to be getting home.”

Her husband looked at her curiously as she dragged him away.

“She's quite the drama queen,” Kathy observed.

“Wait until you see her whipped to orgasm in front of a crowd,” I said. “She puts on quite a show.”

“Does she fake it?” Ann asked.

“No, but she makes sure that everyone in earshot knows she's having an orgasm.,” I said.

“She certainly left in a hurry. I wonder what she has in mind?” Ann asked.

“I'll bet it involves, her tits, a whip,” Kathy giggled. “And more hang time at the rafters.”

 

The boys left the next morning. We dressed in our sexiest outfits to see them off. Maria wore a maid's uniform of stiff gold silk, gold stocking and gold heels. The girls wore matching harem slave costumes with transparent pantaloons, gold jackets, and gold slippers with bells. They sprinkled gold dust in their hair and on their breasts. I wore my fanciest pony girl harness of gold and silver and topped with an extravagant fan of gold ostrich plumes.

Everyone cried and hugged and cried some more. The boys didn't want to leave and we begged them to stay. Finally Mark and Tom physically shoved the boys one by one into the car and drove away. We waved until the car was out of sight, then went back to bed.

I slept for twenty four hours. When I awoke it was Monday morning, the girls were still asleep, Maria was puttering around the kitchen, and I was so stiff and sore that I could barely move.

We lounged on the porch over coffee.

“I miss them already,” Maria said sadly.

“Well, we have some preparations to make,” I told her.

“What preparations?”

“I invited them to come back in the summer,” I said.

Maria perked up. “For how long?”

“Three months.”

“Mother of God!”