BDSM Library - Story: Best Friend\'s Girl, Chapter: Part 1

“Well, what do you think?” Jay asked.

“About Amy?”

“No, about the chili fries. Of course about Amy!”

“I like her.” Greg watched the retreating form of Amy, his best friend Jay’s new girlfriend, as she weaved her way between the crowded tables to the bar to order them another round. She was tall, curvy, and (Jay was right) had a great ass. All positives as far as Greg was concerned. “Yeah, I like her a lot.”

“You’re staring right at her ass. How about the rest of her? You know, the part they call ‘personality?’”

Greg feigned a confused look for a moment before breaking into a smile. “Dude, it’s like I said, I like her. She’s great.”

“Uh huh.” Jay and Greg had been best friends since high school. The bond of twenty years made the pair closer than most brothers, and Jay knew when his friend was holding back. “But?”

“But what?”

“There’s more to your ‘appraisal’ than what you’re telling me. What gives?”

“Don’t get me wrong dude,” Greg started, “I really do like her. She knows more about football than I do, has great taste in bourbon, and is fuckin’ funny. I’d totally hang with this girl.”

Greg wasn’t lying. Jay and Amy had made it into town less than 48 hours ago and the trio had clicked instantly, as if Amy had always been a part of the friendship. Greg hadn’t needed to scheme his friend away from yet another clingy and insecure girlfriend just to get some guy time – after introductions and a tour of Greg’s new place, a spacious cabin a few miles out of town, Amy grabbed up the suitcases and said, “I think I’ll get unpacked and settled. Why don’t the two of you go grab a beer or three? Greg, if you don’t mind me in your kitchen I’ll have dinner for us when you all get back.” With a nod (and nudge of approval to Jay) Greg had taken his friend back into town and proceeded to pry from him all the intimate details of his relationship with the curly haired blonde. They returned home a few hours later to grilled pork chops, scalloped potatoes, and Greg’s favorite green bean dish, the kind with the little crispy onions on top. “Wow,” he commented, “I didn’t realize I had anything other that frozen pizzas and three week old Chinese food in this place.”

“I counted on as much,” Amy grinned, “so I came prepared.”

The trio ate and talked well into the night, laughing and sipping on bourbon, Greg and Jay sharing stories of their youthful exploits and Amy chiming in with caustic little barbs regarding the pair’s occasional lack of judgment and morals. As the evening rolled into early morning, Amy feigned a yawn and grabbed Jay by the arm, commenting to Greg with a half smile that, “he gets fussy without proper rest.” Greg was happy to let them go -- he was not the kind of man to stand in the way of sex Jay had described earlier as, “can I just say, ‘WOW!’”

The three of them had picked up the next morning where they had left off – laughing and joking, picking on each other over the football rivalries that had emerged as they debated which game they should tune into on Greg’s single TV. Finally Greg suggested they head back into town and catch them all at one of the local bars. Amy and Jay agreed, and the three of them had whiled away the afternoon on beer, football, and anything and everything they could find on the bar menu that was deep fat fried. Greg harbored a few apprehensions from back when Jay had called him to let him know the girl he met planning a corporate fundraiser had turned from a simple sexual attraction to a full fledged “I’m in love with her, man,” relationship, but Amy’s easy going nature and quick wit had assuaged most of his concerns. She was at least 15 years Jay and Greg’s junior, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“I’d totally hang with this girl but what?” Jay prodded, still not ready to let go of Greg’s half answer.

“All I’m saying is that I know women. They’re all naughty man, they are, and I bet this one likes a good slap on the ass and hair pull as much as the rest of them, but there’s no way she’s…”

“A sub?” Jay finished.

“Exactly.” The first beers weren’t even finished the night prior when Greg had looked over at Jay with a grin and asked, “so, how is it? What’s she like?” He had expected a positive response and a couple kinky details. After all, Amy was long legged and athletic, she had bright playful eyes and, well, a great ass. God did not make women like that bad in bed. At least not in Greg’s universe. What Greg did not expect was quite the level of kink Jay described. Even with a day to think on it, it just didn’t add up for Greg. “Look at her man,” he said, pointing at Amy with his fork, “that’s a girl that doesn’t have to ask, much less beg, for anything.” Jay’s eyes followed Greg’s fork to where Amy was standing at the bar. She was leaned over, elbows on the bartop, her chin resting in one hand as she chatted up the bartender while pulling cherries out of the garnish tray and popping them seductively into her mouth. Jay watched the bartender, a good looking blonde kid probably closer to Amy in age than he was, pour the drinks double and wave off her offer of payment. She flipped a ten out to tip him and, with a wink, gathered up the glasses. “I’m just sayin’,” Greg continued as he watched the heads and eyes of the other men in the place turn to watch Jay’s girlfriend saunter back across the room, “that girl’s in control and she knows it. She’s probably more of a man than half the guys in this place, if you know what I mean. Hell, now I’d sooner believe she ties you up and beats your ass!”

Jay grinned. “You don’t believe me?”

“No man, it’s not that. I think maybe, just maybe, you’re over exaggerating a touch. That’s all. I don’t doubt it’s great sex, so perhaps the pheromones are soaking your brain a little and you’re, well, over enthusiastic about the reality of the situation.”

“Do you want proof?”

Greg laughed. “What, do you want me to just come out and ask her?”

“No, I have a better idea.” When Amy returned, Jay took the glasses from her. “Pet?” he asked, “would you run out to the truck and see if I dropped my wallet somewhere in there on the way over? I can’t seem to find it.” Greg thought he saw Amy’s eyes widen a little at Jay’s choice of public endearment but the expression, if it was there at all, passed quickly and Amy was out the door. “Now,” explained Jay, leaning in to Greg, “here’s the plan…”

Greg’s cabin was a classic layout: a great room with vaulted, open beam ceilings and a fireplace a man could walk right into. Stairs ran up the far wall, leading to a landing that looked out over the space. There were a couple chairs and an overstuffed loveseat on the landing, a small coffee table, and French doors that led into the master bedroom. It was twilight the following evening and Greg was curled up on the loveseat. The back of the tiny sofa faced to the room below so no one on the main floor could have seen him there, and all Greg himself had to go by as to what was happening in the great room was the sound of his best friend moving about and the flickering of shadows as Jay turned off the electric lights and lit candle after candle.

Jay had gotten Amy out of the way by suggesting she run and pick up a couple nice bottles of wine for the evening. The trip to town and back would keep her away at least and hour and give Jay more than enough time to prepare. She had been gone nearly that time when Greg heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway and footsteps up the front walk. “Baby, I’m back,” he heard Amy call as she made her way into the great room. “Wow, what’s all this?” she asked, taking in the candle lit setting. “Where’s Greg?”

“Greg got an invitation from a friend to go see a show,” Jay said smoothly. Greg detected a change in the particulars of his friend’s voice. It sounded deeper, and there was an air of patient authority that Greg rarely heard in his long time friend’s tone. “Besides, I thought it about time you and I had some quality time.” Jay was practically purring, his speech the same quality of vocalization as a big cat standing over its prey. “Turn off the rest of the lights. Now.”

Greg heard Amy move to turn the hall lights leading into the great room off, and then pull the cord on the one floor lamp that had been left on. The room faded into warm candlelight. This was Greg’s cue – he slipped from the loveseat and onto his stomach onto the floor, easing himself to the edge of the landing and peering through the railing. In the shadows he was practically impossible to detect.

Below him Jay stood facing the fireplace, legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back with what looked like a flogger interlaced between his fingers. He had changed from the jeans and tee he was wearing when Amy had been sent on her errand into black dress slacks, a white collared shirt, suspenders, and wingtips polished to a high shine. Amy remained just inside the entrance to the room, holding the two bottles of wine she had come home with. “Open the wine, pet. Pour two glasses. Set them both on the bar.” Amy was behind the bar without a word, found the glasses quickly and did just as she was instructed. When finished, she folded her hands behind her back and inclined her head just slightly. Jay turned and joined her at the bar. He picked up a glass, twirling the stem between his fingers and letting the candlelight play through the burgundy liquid. “A very nice choice, pet,” he commented as he sipped the wine, tipping the glass toward her in a complimentary toast. Amy smiled at the gesture and reached for the second glass. Before her hand was halfway to the Syrah, Jay caught her across the cheek with his open palm. On the landing, Greg braced himself for Amy to come unwound. Jay hadn’t struck her hard, but he couldn’t see the self assured and flip little blonde standing for such a thing. “Did I tell you to drink?” Jay asked, his tone conversational.

“No,” Amy replied softly, looking back to the floor. Greg relaxed, but not completely – he was a little stunned yet to be completely at ease.

“No what?” Jay’s voice had escalated a notch in firmness.

“No you didn’t tell me to drink.”

“No I didn’t tell you to drink what?”

“No you didn’t tell me to drink…Master.” The word was nearly lost is the expanse of the large room as Amy whispered it softly, her first step into the evening’s surrender. She loved the title when comfortable, it came easily in playfully erotic times; but when faced with punishment or pending humiliation, her ego bucked against the notion, straining against the control she also craved.

Had Greg’s chin not already been resting on the floor, it would have dropped there.

“Better,” Jay stated. Turn around. Amy complied. “Strip.”

“Yes Master,” the girl whispered, and began to disrobe. For the past few days, Greg had seen Amy in similar dress: boots, low rider jeans, and a comfortable sweater or hoodie. As she pulled her loose fitting knit top up over her head, he was treated to his first glimpse of her actual figure. Amy was a sensual blending of long lines, tight muscle curving over a straight frame smoothed over by soft skin, pale but softly glowing amber in the candlelight. Her neck and arms were long and slender, and Greg was reminded of the thoroughbreds at the track in the summer: there was a trembling grace about the way they moved, naturally purposeful yet nervous, still but always resonating the possibility of instantaneous flight.

Greg was lost in the visual of his best friend’s girlfriend hooking her thumbs into her jeans and sliding them down over the curve of her ass, but when he pulled back his focus to look at the whole of her again, his attention was drawn to the one thing that broke the congruous flow of her lines: around Amy’s neck a black leather collar was fastened tightly. “Nice...” he whispered to himself, realizing why the girl had seemed so partial to shirts of the turtleneck variety. In the candlelight, a brass tag glittered at her throat.

Jay approached Amy from behind, running the strands of the flogger across her shoulders, over her breasts, down her spine, across her ass cheeks and finally between her legs. She trembled as Jay continued the flogger’s gentle journey over her body, whispering in her ear as he went, “it’s been some time since we’ve had alone time, hasn’t it pet? Quite some time between sessions, indeed. I fear you’re getting lazy. Forgetful. Disrespectful.”

“Master, no,” pet whispered, a fear in her voice that Greg realized had little to do with the flogger, “I’ve been quite good to you, haven’t I? Your pet loves her Master, Sir.”

“I’m sure she does, but pets without regular training become unruly and out of hand. Why, just the day before yesterday my little pet served herself dinner before making sure her Master and his friend were settled. During that very same meal she was bold enough to refill her drink before offering another to her Master. Later in the evening you snuggled right up on the sofa instead of at my feet to wait to be invited up. And both Greg and I saw you flirt your way to free drinks yesterday.” As Jay continued, his pet’s head dropped lower.

“Master,” she tried, “we’re here for a few days on vacation and I have simply been more relaxed…” THWACK. Amy bucked as the flogger caught her across the ass.

“Excuses will make this worse,” Jay barked, grabbing Amy by a fistful of hair and working the flogger up and down her naked body in earnest. He turned her, his hand still laced in her hair and walked her on tiptoes to the fireplace. “On your knees,” he ordered, forcing her to the floor. “Position One.” Jay’s pet adjusted her kneel so her legs were spread, her hands rested on her knees, her palms faced upward, and her head was bowed. “Now,” Jay cooed, “I am going to finish my glass of wine. You will remain in position and think of all the ways you have disappointed me over the past few days and the appropriate punishment for said indiscretions.”

“Yes Master,” came the meek reply, “thank you Master for the lesson you’re about to teach your unruly little pet.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot. This should help you focus. Fewer distractions this way,” Jay commented as he pulled a red sash from his pocket and fitted it snugly over pet’s eyes.

Jay returned to the bar and resumed sipping his Syrah. He glanced up to the landing where Greg was now staring down at him with a look of impressed shock.

Jay finished his wine, poured another glass and returned to stand beside his pet, who had not twitched since being commanded into position. “Have you come up with your list of indiscretions?”

“Well Sir…” SLAP. Jay’s hand reddened pet’s cheek.

“That sounded a little indecisive.”

“But…” SLAP.

“And that sounded like it was going to be an excuse.” Amy remained silent, save for the sound of her breathing which had quickened considerably over the past minute. “Perhaps you’re not quite focused. Position Two. Now!” Remaining on her knees, Amy sat up straight and laced her fingers behind her neck, pushing her breasts forward. Jay cupped one in each hand, kneading the flesh and working her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tugging and pulling at the sensitive little nubs until they firmed up under his touch and pet began to whimper softly. Still working his pet’s breasts with one hand, Jay removed two small clamps connected by a thin chain from his pants pocket. Stroking the cold metal of one and then the other across her erect nipples he asked, “do you know what these are?”

“Yes Master.”

“Shall I use them?”

“If…if it pleases you.”

“My pet doesn’t sound very enthusiastic yet. I want to hear you ask me.”

“Master, please put the nipple clamps on your pet’s breasts.”

“Now tell me why I should.”

“Sir, I…” THWAK. Jay whipped each breast in rapid succession.

“Don’t you move those hands,” Jay warned, as Amy twitched under the blows. Her lip quivered, but she remained in place. “Now, try again. You tell me what you want and why.”

Pet swallowed hard before speaking in a quivering voice, “Master, please allow your pet to wear her nipple clamps so she can focus on the pain and let it remind her to be attentive to her Master’s needs.”

“Very well put pet, you may just have saved yourself another few lashes.” Jay ran the strands of the flogger over Amy’s quivering breasts to emphasize the pain of what could have been before roughly grabbing her right nipple and fastening the clamp. He followed suit with the left nipple, tugging the connecting chain until Amy’s breasts pulled away from her body and Jay was satisfied everything was secure. “Now,” he continued, grabbing pet’s hair and forcing her head down into a bowed position, we’re also going to use these to remind you of a sub’s proper posture in respect to her Master.” Pulling the chain on the clamps taut, Jay forced it between Amy’s teeth and closed her mouth over it. “You jerk your head up, those little tits of yours are going to get an awfully painful tug, understand?”

“Yes Master,” Amy began through clenched teeth before Jay cut her off.

“No talking with your mouth full, slut. Nod.” Amy managed a slight head shake of agreement. “I could barely see that in this dim light pet. A little painslut such as yourself should be able to manage more than that pathetic little nod, or do I need to remind you what the pain in “painslut” stands for?” Jay swept the strands of the flogger off Amy’s shoulder over which he had hung the implement of discipline while fastening the nipple clamps. The threat was more than enough and she nodded vigorously, her breasts bouncing with the motion of the chain. “Good. Now, are we ready to talk about our unruly behavior? You may speak, but if you drop that chain so help me I’ll add a weight to it and leave it hanging there while I bend you over my knee and take a cane to your ass. That’s right,” Jay purred into his pet’s ear as she whimpered at the mention of the cane, “I brought it with me. Now, list your sins.”

“I have been sloppy in attending to my Master,” Amy enunciated carefully, holding the chain firmly in her mouth and attempting to keep head motion to an absolute minimum. “When Master told his pet he was taking her with him on vacation, she relaxed into her own needs. She forgot that her only need is to please her Master, and that He will take care of her in return. I serve you first at the table. I refill your glass first. I sit at your feet. I…” Amy’s mind flashed back to their first night with Greg, the evening she had excused Jay from the conversation and taken him to bed to make love to him. She had had a bourbon or two or four and was so eager for the feel of Jay’s cock that she let herself cum twice before bringing him to orgasm. “I,” she continued, “only cum when you allow it.”

“I’m glad you remembered that one on your own pet,” Jay commented. “I had a none too pleasant way to jog your memory planned in case you neglected to mention that particular incident.”

“Your pet’s need is to please you, Sir. She shan’t forget again,” Amy concluded.

“Your Master does not like to be forgotten or disrespected, especially in front of his best friend.”

“No Master, but…” Amy cut off the “but” as soon as she realized it was coming out of her mouth, but it was too late.

“’But?’ Slut do you think that as soon as you leave my house my authority over you becomes nonexistent?” Jay flipped the flogger in his hand, and using the base of the handle he pushed up on the underside of pet’s chin until she was facing up into his face, her breasts pulled viciously upward by the taut chain. Though still blindfolded, she could feel Master’s breath close to her face. “I am your Master in my house and in any other.”

“Yes Master,” Amy squeaked, trying to repair the damage her careless remark had caused, “I understand Master. I only meant…”

“You meant what, slave? This had better be good.”

“I only meant that I don’t think Greg was aware of my indiscretions toward you Master.”

Jay let Amy’s head drop and she returned to her bowed posture. “I think Greg is aware of more than you might think,” he remarked, casting a glance toward the balcony. Greg was now standing, one hand braced on the rail, the other idly stroking his erection through his khakis as he watched Jay and Amy, transfixed. It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes of Jay breaking the flirty and free spirited Amy for Greg to realize that lying on his stomach on the floor was gonna’ get real uncomfortable real soon. Jay lifted an eyebrow toward his friend then returned to Amy. “You’re in my best friend’s house, my pet. Do you know what that means?” Amy whimpered and shook her head from side to side as carefully as she could manage. “No, of course you don’t,” Jay soothed, “how could you know when you can barely keep track of what in means to be a slave in my house? I will tell you though, because I am your Master and I love you and want you to learn. When you are a guest in the home of my best friend, you serve him as well.”

Amy stiffened at Jay’s words. She didn’t fully understand their meaning, but her submission was a singular devotion to her and the thought of giving the same gift to anyone other than Jay caused her already over stimulated mind to reel. All of her outward flirtatiousness, the way she played with other men then walked away, all of that coy posturing was designed to accentuate the contradiction between her other interactions and her commitment to Jay, to reinforce the depth of the subservience she offered to the one man she had chosen as Master. “I, I only serve one Master,” she offered, not knowing quite what was expected.

“Very good pet, I’m glad of that. Greg is not and never will be your Master, but you are my plaything and Greg and I have shared our toys since we were children. If I ordered your obedience to him, it would be at my pleasure, and you would honor me until I stated otherwise, yes?”

“Yes Master. All I do is at your pleasure.”

“Good pet. See? You can be taught, but knowing what to say and following through are two very different things. But, these ‘hypotheticals’ are not currently my concern. We are here for your punishment, are we not?”

“We are Master. Your pet is ready to accept her lessons, and thanks you for them.”

“Good.” Jay stood in front of Amy and untied the blindfold and took the clamp chain from her mouth. Her eyes darted up at him, wide and pleading. “Don’t you face me, slut,” Jay barked, sending her glance back to the floor. “Don’t make me start punishing you for such little things on top of the healthy dose of larger sins you’ve already accumulated this week. Now, now only did I say that you were to consider your indiscretions, but also that you were to select a suitable punishment for yourself. I, of course, reserve the right to determine if your punishment is acceptable or otherwise. If I deem your suggestion unsatisfactory to me, I will double what my original punishment would have been. This will keep my lazy little pet from being too easy on herself. My duffle is over by the sofa, get over there and bring me what you wish me to discipline you with.”

Amy stood to retrieve Master’s bag and was brought promptly back to the ground by a swift tug to the nipple chain. “Did I say to stand??” Jay asked, sounding shocked. He pinned pet to the ground by putting the toe of his wingtip on the chain linking her breasts, then began the flog’s assault on her exposed ass and back anew. Apologies flowed from the writhing Amy, but Jay waited for tears before stepping back from his prostrate slave. Amy could take pain when she was prepared for it, so an unexpected assault to her comfort zones was invaluable in keeping her paying attention. “Crawl,” Jay ordered, “keep your nose to the ground.”

Amy made her way to Master’s bag on all fours, unzipped it and inspected the contents. Jay returned to the bar, poured himself another glass of wine and relaxed. Above Dom and sub, the evening’s voyeur had released his cock from his trousers and was stroking in earnest. “Be patient.” Jay mouthed to his friend. Within minutes, a contrite and very accommodating Amy crawled her way back to her Master’s feet and placed before him the crop, the cane, and the series of clips Jay used on and around her clit. The crop was no surprise, but the other items were not instruments of pleasure for Amy by any means and Jay raised his eyebrows at them in genuine curiosity. With the tip of his shoe he raised Amy’s face to look at him. “Pet, the cane? And the clips?” Amy blushed. “Oh do tell why you chose these particular items?”

“I was hoping, Master, that if I were willing to take the cane you might be willing to give me fewer strokes. Or, if you choose the crop, then I would accept more.”

“Oh pet,” Jay purred, “your willingness is expected, not rewarded, and you will accept what I give no matter what the circumstances, like the eager little painslut you are.” Amy’s eyes widened but she thought better than to negotiate and simply nodded. “Now, stand.” Amy positioned herself in front of Jay, legs spread slightly, wrists crossed behind her back, eyes ever downcast. She heard Master take a few more items from the duffle then approach her from behind. In a moment he had cuffed her wrists and clipped them to the back of her collar, kicked her legs apart, secured them to opposite ends of a spreader bar, picked her up and bent her over the bar with her toes on the footrail leaving her breasts hanging over one side and exposing her ass to her impending punishment and to Greg’s curious and much aroused gaze on the other. “I imagine this will be helpful tonight,” Jay offered, securing a ball gag into Amy’s mouth and fastening it behind her head. “I mean, you don’t want to risk any more outbursts. Oh, and one last item before we start.” Jay produced the weight he had threatened to clip to Amy’s nipples earlier in the evening and secured it to her chain. The weight, also, had a length of chain that was enough to allow Jay to run it down the other side of the bar and nearly to the floor. Nearly. Amy pleaded behind the gag for Jay not to let go of the weight. As she watched, he overturned an ice bucket below where gravity would naturally have pulled the potential source of so much pain, then set one of the bottles of wine she had purchased on top of that. Carefully, Jay balanced the weight on the flat mouth of the bottle. Amy froze, realizing that it would take barely any motion at all to knock the weight off the bottle and send it plunging toward the ground only to be stopped by the secure clips on her now hypersensitive little buds. “Best not move,” Jay warned, then slipped from her field of vision.

Amy’s next sensation was one of pain exploding from her sex – Jay had snapped one of the little clips expertly over her clit and was idly flicking it as his slave struggled not to move. “That should take the sting out of this, I’d think,” Jay commented, striking pet’s ass with the crop. “Really, I’m doing you a favor.” Amy held steady as Jay administered an even ten strokes with the crop. Tears were streaming down her face and the only thing keeping her from coming completely undone was the realization that she had to keep still or risk her nipple weight dropping off the bottle top.

“My my,” Jay observed, slipping a finger between Amy’s legs and up into her pussy, “someone’s a little wet. I don’t know if this counts as punishment if you’re enjoying yourself. Let’s move on to the cane, shall we? I’m sure I’ll have better results with that.”

Amy squealed behind her gag. “What’s that, my pet?” Jay asked, loosening the gag.

“Please Master, please Master,” was all Amy could manage. “Please be gentle with me Sir, I’ve learned my lesson Sir…” Jay tightened the gag back in place.

“What kind of Master would I be if I relented on discipline? Not a very good one I’m afraid. But, I’m not entirely deaf to the pleas of my precious fucktoy, so I’ll give you a choice. You may accept the strokes from the cane, and I will be giving you twice the number I administered with the crop, OR you may select the second option.” Amy waited to hear the second option, but Jay was silent. “I’m not going to tell you what it is, slave. You’ll pick one or the other based simply on knowing that one choice is your beloved cane. Now choose. One?” Amy remained still. “Two?” She nodded. “Alright then.”

Jay placed the cane on the floor where Amy could see it and motioned for Greg to come down the stairs. “Option two was a much better choice pet, you always were quite clever. Option two is a combination of several of your favorite things, in fact: a good old fashioned spanking and blow job.” Amy’s breathing relaxed a little. “You’ll be giving me the blow job, and Greg will be administering the spanking.” Amy’s head jerked up and in response the weight attached to the nipple chain tipped off the wine bottle and plunged to the floor. The mental and physical stress of the situation hit her simultaneously and she squealed behind the gag. “Now pet,” Jay continued casually as Amy writhed, “my friend has made us feel welcome in his house, and I would like you to make him feel welcome to partake in my ‘accommodations’ as well. THAT is my pleasure and you will submit to it, yes?” Amy paused her struggle, then nodded slowly. Jay swung the weight on the chain idly. “This is not my idea of enthusiasm, pet. Now, ask my friend to join us or ask to be released from your service. I’ll put you in the shower, clean you up and we’ll all just go out to dinner and a movie if that’s your choice.” Amy made a muffled noise behind the gag and Jay loosened it as Greg joined him by the bar, hoping beyond all hope that Amy would continue to want to please his friend.

“Greg Sir,” Amy started, “I belong to my Master. I provide him my body for his pleasure, and as it is his pleasure to share his little slave, I would please ask that you take all liberties with me that my Master allows. I will serve you as he wishes me to. It will be my pleasure.”

“Very good slave,” Jay cooed, unclipping the weight from Amy’s chain and pulling her to a standing position. “Greg, feel free to take a closer look.” With her hands cuffed to the back of her collar and legs spread by the bar between her ankles, Greg was afforded a VERY liberal view of Jay’s pet. “She’s quite soft,” Jay advised, sitting back to polish off his second glass of wine. “Really, go ahead and feel. It’s remarkable really.” Greg gently laid his hands on Amy’s waist, still not quite believing what he was doing, then slowly slid them down across her ass then up to her breasts. Curiosity overtook him and he looked at the gold tag attached to her collar: “Jay’s Pet. Slave to my Master,” Greg read aloud, and as he did Amy heaved a sigh of what seemed to be satisfaction. “Now pet, I am going to release you so you may serve Greg his wine, and also to show him you are accepting of his affections without need of these restraints.”

“Yes Master,” Amy spoke, softly but clearly.

Jay released the cuffs from his pet’s collar and removed the spreader bar. Amy immediately fetched the second glass of wine, the glass she had assumed was hers, from the bar and presented it to Greg, kneeling. As he took the wine she resumed her position in front of him, hands behind her neck and legs spread, only this time without the aid of her bonds. Impressed, Greg became more bold – cupping a breast, tweaking a nipple, even going so far as to brush his hand between her legs. “My God,” he said, turning to Jay, “she’s soaked.

To Be Continued…