Ivy League Sluts

Chapter 21 Ladies of Leather

     Stacy kept her eyes cast down not wanting to look straight ahead and make eye contact with the driver.  She was worried the young Indian cab driver would wreck if he kept staring at her in the rear view mirror.

     Of course he has good reason to stare realized Stacy looking down at her leather bra with the part missing that covered her nipples.  The cool night air had given them cause to stand out adding to Stacy’s sense of embarrassment.  They looked huge even in the half shadows afforded by the streetlights.  Faye had carefully coated them with a cranberry red body paint that contrasted sharply from her areola.  What made it even worse was that Faye was periodically leaning over to suck the left one as she pulled and twisted its mate.

    “Jaggan, don’t you think Stacy has incredible nipples,” asked Faye adding to Stacy’s discomfort by discussing her with the driver.  His long Hindu name was printed in large block letters on a plastic sign fixed to the dashboard.

    “Very pretty, and very large,” answered Jaggan in his slightly singsong voice tinged with a British accent.

    “You like large tits,” asked Faye.

    “Oh yes, very much and I like dark nipples.  The girls in my country have such nipples. They are like ripe berries.”

    “So you wouldn’t like mine,” said Faye pushing the top of her corset down to reveal her muscular chest with its almost non-existent breasts.

    “I like hers better,” said Jaggan candidly but not undiplomatically.

     The bra wasn’t the only piece of Stacy’s attire she considered embarrassing.  Faye had referred to the panty she gave Stacy as a hole cover.  The narrow rear strip of the thong was uncomfortably embedded in the crack of her ass.  Stacy’s naked butt rested on the leather cab seat.  The tiny front triangle of the panty nestled between her labia major leaving them exposed.  It barely covered her vagina and clitoris.  Faye had used the same red body paint to color Stacia’s labia.  Stacy would have preferred to keep her legs crossed but Faye had ordered her to spread them open so she could rub Stacy’s crotch while the driver watched.

    He narrowly missed a pedestrian in a crosswalk when Faye and she tongue kissed and Faye’s fingers pushed aside the panty crotch inserting her fingers in Stacy’s vagina.  Faye withdrew her fingers after a few seconds of vigorous finger fucking and licked them ostentatiously.

     “Jaggan, you wouldn’t believe how good she tastes. Here, have a lick, said Faye reaching her hand through the small opening of the Plexiglas barrier separating the front and rear seats.

    “Very tasty,” said Jaggan licking Faye’s fingers once again causing the cab to swerve into the other lane.

     “Watch the fucking road.  You’ll get us killed,” shouted Stacy.

     Four-inch strap platform sandals raised Stacy’s standing height to over six feet, several inches taller than Faye.  A narrow leather garter belt held up patterned hose.  It was Stacy’s first experience with a garter belt.  It struck her as impractical, not particularly comfortable and the ultimate in slut attire.

     Her hands and forearms were encased in elbow length leather gloves.  Stacy’s flaxen hair was pulled straight back and moussed against her skull.  A heavy layer of mascara, eye liner, make-up, and lip stick added to the slut effect.  But the item that bothered Stacy most was the dog collar fastened around her neck.  It was attached to a leash that Faye was holding firmly in her hand.  It announced to the world that Stacy was the slave and Faye the mistress.

     Several people out for an evening stroll had stared as Faye had led Stacy out of her apartment and climbed into the cab.  It would have attracted more attention if they weren’t in Cambridge.  Being on the end of a dog leash was in Stacy’s view a singular way to humiliate someone. 

     “Not what rich girls from Weston are brought up to expect,” Faye commented when Stacy objected to the dog collar and leash.  “But tonight, you’re my bitch and you better heel when I command or I’ll turn that butt of yours cherry red.”

     “I can’t go out in public like this,” protested Stacy before the cab arrived.  They were in Faye’s apartment standing side-by-side looking in the mirror.

     “You’re going, so quit bitching.  Besides, we look hot as hell.  Every leather dyke in New England will want a piece of us,” said Faye.  “I love the way your zickers show in the peek-a-boo bra.  Your big knockers made it an excellent choice.  Let’s go in the kitchen I want to ice your nipples so they stand out like bing cherries.”

     Faye’s attire of thigh high leather boots, arm length gloves, leather corset, and panty complemented Stacy’s.  One critical difference was the wide belt circling Faye’s waist.  Handcuffs, two different sizes of brass studded leather paddles, a coiled bullwhip, a pair of evil looking nipple clamps, and a riding crop dangled from the wide belt.  As if that wasn’t enough, a bulging athletic bag containing S&M paraphernalia rode at her feet.  Slave Stacy had been tasked to carry the weighty bag for Mistress Faye.

      “Twelve fifty,” said Jaggan turning to look at Stacy after the cab pulled up to the curb in front of an abandoned downtown Boston theatre.

     “Here’s thirteen, Jaggan,” said Faye.  “And I’m going to give you a choice of tips, this five dollar bill or Slave Stacy here will suck you off.”

      “Faye,” said Stacy aghast at the idea.

      “Shut up, Stacy.  Hurry and decide, Jaggan.  We’re in a hurry,” said Faye.

      “Blow job,” said Jaggan after thinking about it for a surprisingly long period of time.

      “Took him long enough to decide.  I guess you’re not as hot as you think you are,” said Faye reaching across Stacy to open her door.  “Get in the front seat.”

      Stacy considered telling Faye to go fuck herself.  However, she reasoned Mike might decide to publicize her hardcore porn debut if Faye complained.  Still it took courage to set foot on a downtown city street in what she was wearing.  Stacy was reasonably sure she would be arrested for indecent behavior if a Boston policeman saw her get out of the cab and walk around to the passenger side. 

     Anxious to get it over with, Stacy leaned over in Jaggan’s lap as soon as she got inside the car.  In seconds, she had extracted his uncircumcised penis from his trousers.  Her head bumped against the steering wheel reminding her it was not the first front seat blowjob she’d performed.

     Jaggan amused himself by pinching her nipples while Stacy placed one hand under his scrotum wrapping her fingers around his small tight nut sack.  The aroma of curry scented urine filled her nostrils.  She applied upward pressure to the base of his testicles with the side of her hand.  The fingers of her other hand were stroking the still soft shaft as her lips and tongue worked on his cockhead.  Stacy was gratified to feel his penis begin to harden.

     “Is she worth all of five dollars, Jaggan,” asked Faye leaning forward to peer down at Stacy?

     “We will see,” said Jaggan noncommittally.

     Asshole thought Stacy to herself as she started to lip stroke the shaft.  It was rapidly filling with blood.

     “Can you taste any curry yet, Stacy,” asked Faye?

     Stacy had noted a certain exotic spice flavor but was about to apply in the negative when she heard two female voices squeal Faye’s name. 

     “Lenore, Gretchen,” squealed Faye in response causing Stacy to realize BDSM dominas and Ivy League college girls shared certain characteristics especially when it came to greeting one another.  Stacy decided to keep her head down and stay focused on draining Jaggan’s balls.

     “What you doing out here? The Auto-De-Fe started hours ago,” said Lenore.

     “I’m waiting for my worthless slave, Stacy, to finish giving our driver his tip,” said Faye.

     “A tip for a tip,” said Gretchen causing the three to laugh at her bad joke.  Gretchen and Lenore peered into the front seat.  “She’s quite eager.  Is she the rich slut a friend loaned you?”

      “Yes, she’s the one.  She’s mine for the night to do with as I want. I already taught her how to come when she’s not breathing,” said Faye.

      “Don’t forget you promised to share,” said Lenore.

      “Of course, if you two help me rig her for the contest then she’s yours for an hour,” said Faye,

      “Is she that noisy when she’s eating you out,” asked Gretchen?

      “She and I have been screwing since six and she’s still horny.  She’s a borderline nymphomaniac who adores edge play,” said Faye.

      “Looks like the driver’s about to blow,” said Lenore listening to Jaggan chant in his native Hindi.

      “Slave Stacia, don’t you swallow a drop of Jaggan’s semen until I tell you to,” said Faye.

     Jaggan cried out in profane Hindu as he felt the onrush of his orgasm.  He was surprised the American made him ejaculate so quickly.  He had spent the afternoon in bed with a distant cousin and they had made love so many times he’d lost count.  His family was anxious for him to agree to marry the girl since she was a Patel and there would be a considerable dowry plus important social and business connections.  Right before his shift started, he had called his father to say he agreed to the marriage.

     When Faye had offered him Stacy in place of his tip, his choice would have been obvious except he was so exhausted from making love to Rupasi he doubted he could perform.  However, the American’s beauty, her incredible breasts, and the manner she was dressed proved irresistible. 

     Jaggan’s orgasm also proved irresistible.  As he twisted in his seat forcing Stacy’s head down on his spurting manhood, he called out for Lord Shiva to regenerate his linga.  His testicles repeatedly contracted expelling his life force; their journey hurried by the powerful suction she applied to his urethra.             

          Stacy concentrated on providing Jaggan a satisfying climax.  When he finished squirting, there was a pool of warm semen resting on the floor of her mouth. 

     Jaggan lay back in the seat completely spent as Stacy raised herself to seating then slipped out the car door.

     Lenore and Gretchen followed Faye and Stacy into the old theatre.  Stacy waited while Faye checked in at the admissions desk and acquired their party identifications.  The two stood silent as Lenore and Gretchen were admitted.

     “Open your mouth and show us,” said Faye once the foursome was together.

     Stacy opened her mouth to display Jaggan’s semen.  She was mildly surprised when Gretchen produced a small flashlight she used to illuminate the interior.

     “I’d say she’s been a good slave conferring credit to her mistress,” said Lenore peering in Stacy’s mouth along with the others.

     “I agree. You may swallow, Slave Stacy,” said Faye.

***

     Stacy’s visit to Mark’s father had left her apprehensive about paying Mark’s debt to Faye.  Still she reasoned nothing could be as bad as what happened at the prison.  Attending Faye’s lesbian party sounded like a piece of cake compared to sex with a four hundred pound psychopathic murderer.

     As before, Stacy had been informed by email about her upcoming evening.  This one had been only slightly less cryptic.

    

Slave Stacy

     As Mike should have explained New England Ladies of Leather are having their spring Auto-De-Fe this Saturday.  Doors open at eleven but no one arrives before midnight.  Don’t worry about what to wear.  I’ve got your outfit.  We will dress at my place (Taymoor Apartment No. 117).   Arrive by 6:00PM.  Don’t be late!

Mistress Faye   

     “Somebody is in for an interesting evening.  I almost wish I was going,” said Portia when Stacy showed her Faye’s email.

     “Mike explained nothing other than I was expected to attend.  Why does she refer to me as Slave Stacy and herself as Mistress Faye?  Is this an S&M thing?” said Stacy.

     “Bingo, I hope you like kissing butt and licking boots because that’s required.  Faye must fancy herself a domina.”

     “And I’m her slave.  I get it.”

     “My guess is she wants to show you off.  You’re a trophy slave,” said Portia planting a kiss on Stacy’s worried cheek.

     “Trophy slave, trophy whore, and trophy conjugal visit wife for murderers, this is getting old.  Honestly though, after what I went through at the prison it sounds kind of tame,” said Stacy.

     “Don’t underestimate them.  Just because they’re women playing at S&M, don’t think they can’t be as bad as the serial killers at A.J. Pullman Maximum Security,” said Portia.

     “If it’s any worse, I’ll shoot myself,” laughed Stacy.

     “Let’s see what we can learn from the Internet about the New England Ladies of Leather,” said Stacy accessing the Google WEB site and searching on the club name.

     “So it’s not just lesbians,” said Stacy looking at the screen display of a tall leather clad woman twisting the testicles of a man chained to a wooden X-shaped cross.

     “No, they allow a few male submissives to attend with their mistresses.  Nothing thrills the soul of a lesbo domina like listening to a man screaming while some sweet young femme performs a loop the loop with his balls,” said Portia.

     “Based on what happened to me the last few weeks, I’d like to do the twisting,” said Stacy.

     “She wants you to arrive early.”

     “Yeah, why,” asked Stacy.

     “She wants you all to herself so she can come early,” said Portia resting her head on Stacy’s bare shoulder.

     “Your puns are awful,” said Stacy kissing Portia on the cheek.  “Why do they call it an Auto-De-Fe? What is it, anyway?”

     “The term is associated with the Spanish Inquisition.  In Spanish, it translates to act of faith.  It was at an Auto-De-Fe that the Inquisition burned the heretics at the stake.  I suppose someone thought naming their parties that was cool,” said Portia.

     “But no one really gets burned at the stake,” said Stacy.

     “No, but Mistress Faye might drip hot candle wax on your boobs or your pussy,” said Portia.

     “Ouch, I bet that hurts.”

     “Like blazes, especially if they use cheap paraffin candles, real beeswax burns at a more controlled temperature but the candles are more expensive,” said Portia.  “My nipples, pussy lips and clit have seen their share of hot wax.”

     “And where did you learn that factoid,” asked Stacy?  “My Mother insists on bees wax candles.  She says they burn cleaner.  I wonder if she’s ever dripped wax on my dad’s testicles.”

     “We had a sex club at my high school,” said Portia. “We experimented with BDSM among other things.”

     “Really, I was in the French club at my high school.  You allowed someone to drip hot wax on your privy parts?” asked Stacy reaching out to cup Portia’s sex.

     “Yes, my older sister, Margaux,” said Portia spreading her legs to allow Stacy easier access.  “Last time we talked, she said she was a domina but she prefers men as slaves.  Per Margaux, female slaves are too needy always looking to be whipped or dildo fucked.”

     “Margaux, the one who is in the Marines, she was in the sex club?”

     “She started the club.  She was a senior and I was a freshman.  I was her slave my freshman year,” said Portia.

     “And she gave you the hot wax treatment?”

     “Yes, she was always experimenting with different types of torture.  I idolized my older sister so I let her do whatever she wanted as long as I got her attention. I even begged her to let me drink her piss direct from her urethra.  Besides, it kept us poor inner city girls amused.  We couldn’t afford clothes and makeup,” said Portia.   “Look, their WEB site has pictures of the fall Auto-De-Fe.”

     “Slave auction, what’s that?” asked Stacy reading a screen caption.

     “They auction slaves to the highest bidder.  The money goes to charity.  You may find yourself with a different mistress for part of the evening,” said Portia.

     “So Mistress Faye’s rug is not the only one I have to munch.”

     “Most likely, I would hazard a guess you’re also going to be in for having your bum paddled and your nips clamped,” said Portia looking at an on screen image of a leather clad mistress and her nude slave girl.  The girl’s small breasts were adorned with a vicious looking set of weighted alligator clamps.  The girl was grimacing in pain and there were tears coursing down her cheeks.  An inset picture close-up showed the sharp spring powered teeth were crushing her nipples while fishing weights pulled her boobs toward the floor.  Her thighs and buttocks were covered in bright red stripes.   The girl’s face reflected her pain; at the same time, the smile of her Mistress showed her enjoyment.

     “Now you’ve really got me looking forward to it,” said Stacy.

     “These are going to attract a lot of the wrong kind of attention,” said Portia taking Stacy’s nipple in her mouth and sucking gently.

***

    

     It was five minutes to six when Stacy entered the Taymoor Apartments in Somerville, a Metro Boston city adjacent to Cambridge.  She pushed the buzzer of Apartment 117 and the door’s electric lock opened immediately.

     “Welcome, you’re on time,” said Faye stepping aside for Stacy to enter.

     Stacy couldn’t help but notice Faye was wearing a Chinese print silk robe that wasn’t tied.  Her naked and tattooed body was clearly visible as she led Stacy into the living room.  It also revealed to Stacy that Faye was a serious devote of fitness.  The terms, buff, ripped, came to Stacy’s mind.  It was the kind of serious female muscle that appealed to few men but perhaps any number of femme lesbians looking for a strong woman to dominate them.

      “I thought your coming early would give us an opportunity to get to know one another before we left for the party,” said Faye.

     “Sounds great,” said Stacy determined to play the role of willing whore to avoid another confrontation with Mike.  “You’re in terrific shape.  You must work out.”

     “Five times a week, I’m planning to compete next year after I add more muscle mass,” said Faye as she slipped off the robe to pose.

     “How do you build abs like that,” asked Stacy placing her hand on the hard ridges of muscles covering Faye’s abdomen?

     “My abs routine I do seven days a week.  I’ll show you later,” said Faye putting her arm around Stacy’s shoulder and kissing her.  They held the kiss for some time. 

     “I made some appetizers.  Would you mind opening the wine while I get them out of the oven,” said Faye heading into the kitchen.

      Stacy looked around the apartment as she twisted the corkscrew.  The furnishing looked well used.  Still it was neat and clean.  Old style black and white movie posters featuring famous actresses provided what passed for wall décor.  There was a comfortable looking couch facing the television.

     “Go ahead and start getting undressed,” yelled Faye from the kitchen.

     Why not thought Stacy pulling her top over her head.  It’s what I’m here for.

     “You like bruschetti,” asked Faye carrying a tray into the room.

     “Love it,” said Stacy pouring the wine.

     “My Mom is Italian.  It’s her recipe.”

     “Delicious,” said Stacy after taking a bite.  “One of these days I want to learn to cook.”

     “Your mother didn’t teach you?”

     “No, Mom can’t cook.  She leaves that to Maurice.”

     “Who’s Maurice?

     “Our cook, he’s been with us for years,” said Stacy.

     “I keep forgetting Mike said you were rich and live in a mansion in Weston,” said Faye.

     Portia had suggested that Stacia attempt to learn more about Mike from Faye.  “Mike seems to know a lot about me.  Have you known him long?”

     “Almost five years next month,” said Faye as she reached behind Stacy to unsnap her bra.

     “I almost peed my pants when you and Mark arrested me.  I thought my life was over,” said Stacy slipping the bra off.

     “You were easy to set up.  Cecile slipped the perfume in your bag while you were shopping at the make-up counter,” said Faye lifting Stacy’s breast then kissing it lightly.  Faye did not miss the fact Stacy’s nipple immediately came erect.

     “Cecile?”

     “A girl friend of mine, you’ll see her at the Auto-De-Fe tonight.  But I doubt you’ll remember her.”

     “How did you pick me out,” asked Stacy.

     “It was all Mike’s doing.  He told us you were in the store.  He was following you.”

     “Christ, I didn’t suspect a thing,” said Stacy.

     “Don’t feel too bummed out about it.  Mike Cabreeze is smart, smarter than most.”

     “But why me, I’m nobody special?” asked Stacy leaning back.

     “These are certainly special,” said Faye as she cupped Stacy’s breast and then leaned over and kissed it.

     “They’re just a little bigger than average.  Something I owe to my Mom who complains about hers’ all the time.  She’s been talking about having a breast reduction since forever but she never seems to get around to it.”

     “So what do you think of mine,” asked Faye flexing her pectoral muscles causing her almost non-existent breasts to bounce.  Her nipples were surprisingly long compared to the underlying breast.

     “They turn me on,” said Stacy taking Faye’s hard nipple in her mouth and sucking it.  Stacy looked Faye in the eyes as she swirled her tongue over the prominent bud.

     “Guys are turned off by female body builders.  At least most guys are.  Suck hard.  Suck till it hurts,’ said Faye holding Stacy’s head against her chest.  Her cheeks hollowed as she applied all the suction she could muster while her hand reached down to cup Faye’s hairless sex.  Stacy was amazed at how muscular Faye’s pubic region was.

     “My recent experience, no, all my experiences with guys has not been that great,” said Stacy after she stopped sucking Faye’s nipple.

     “Not what I heard.  Mark said you put on quite a show at AJ’s.  He says you’re a freaking nymphomaniac.”

     “I was scared shitless.  No wasn’t an option.  I’d never been in a prison before.  You’re not really a person there.  It’s a different world,” said Stacy as she placed her hand on Faye’s bare thigh then moved it upward to stroke Faye’s sex.

     “Staying out of jail was also how I met Mike.  Finger fuck me,” said Faye opening her thighs to invite Stacy’s hand to explore.  “How’s the bruschetti?”

     “Excellent, you can really cook.  Mike arrested you too?” asked Stacy.

     “Me, along with my Mom, Aunt Zoe, and older sister, Lucia and a couple of girls from Estonia, we had an outcall over on Mt. Auburn Street.”

     “Outcall,” asked Stacy pressing her hand against Faye’s sex using the heel of her hand to massage Faye’s clit while her fingers teased her opening.  Eating bruschetti with one hand while playing with Faye’s pussy with the other struck Stacy as both erotic and unhygienic.

     “Escort services come in two flavors, incall is where the John comes to the girl and outcall where the hooker goes to the John.  Cop wise, its better to move around but you lose time and therefore money traveling.  I know greater Boston better than most cab drivers,” said Faye hooking one leg over the couch arm then squeezing Stacy’s finger with her vagina.

      “You were a prostitute?”

      “Third generation, but we were Elite Escorts in the phone book,” said Faye.  “However, we never escorted anyone.  That’s not exactly true.  Every so often, a guy would hire one of us just to go to a dinner and movie no sex.  Those in my opinion were the real creeps.”

      “With your Mother and Aunt,” asked Stacy tracing her fingers in a circle around Faye’s clitoris.

      “It’s a family business.  Here, use this,” said Faye opening an end table drawer and removing a dildo vibrator.

      “So you all went to jail,” asked Stacy taking the dildo, flicking the on switch and rubbing the tip over her own nipples before licking it and placing it on top of Faye’s clit.

      “No, not that time, Elite Escorts took on a new business partner,” said Faye.

      “Mike,” asked Stacy?

      “And his Posse but let’s be real, Mike is the Posse,” said Faye.  “My Mom figures she’s comped those guys a million dollars worth of free pussy the last five years.”

      “But you are no longer involved,” said Stacy pressing the tip of the dildo into Faye’s opening.

      “No future in it plus to be honest I don’t care for men.  I used to help Mom out if she was short handed but since I’ve gotten serious about bodybuilding, guys aren’t interested in muscle babes.  However, she’s been getting requests from female executives for girls with muscles.  And if they want somebody who’s my type, I pack up my strapon cock and head out.  It’s an easy way to make a few hundred doing what I like”

      “So you became a security guard?”

      “Mike got me the job after I asked him to help me make a career change.  I’m going to get my two-year degree next month from community college then study Criminal Justice at Northeastern for my bachelors.  Mike promised he’d help me get on one of the local PDs once I graduate.  What are your plans?” said Faye pinching and twisting her own nipples.

     “Apply to law school.  I’m interested in International Law,” said Stacy beginning a rhythmic insertion and withdrawal of the dildo while using the fingers of her other hand to stimulate Faye’s clitoris.

     “Neat, I’ll arrest them and you put them in jail,” said Faye.  “Loose the jeans.” 

     “Sounds like a plan,” said Stacy standing up to remove her jeans.

     “Since I’m the Mistress and you’re the slave, I get to orgasm first.  Mark said you ate this Latina cunt to an incredible climax at the poker party.”

      “Adriana, she belongs to Lou.  She’d never been with a girl,” said Stacy kneeling down before Faye to resume the dildo action.

      “Lou’s a sweetheart sober and a real bastard when he’s drunk.  He beat the crap out of my sister one time,” said Faye scooting down closer to the edge of the couch.  “She was dumb enough to suggest he either let her get on top or lose some weight.”

      “He got drunk and passed out at the poker party,” said Stacy before licking Faye’s clitoris.

      “Just between us girls, Mike is getting concerned about Lou’s boozing.  Now, enough shop talk, Slave, eat my cunt like a good bitch.”