Suburban Bliss

Part I: Michael

Looking back, he still kicked himself sometimes. So much time wasted. Years and years. Searching in all the wrong places. When in the end it was all so simple. The solution was always right in front of him. In retrospect you always wonder why you didn't come up with that brilliant idea sooner.  On the other hand, maybe he had needed all that time to develop his ideas. Mature his thoughts. Had it materialised too soon, perhaps it would have all have gone wrong. Who knows. He used that thought to comfort himself. To rationalize his time in the doldrums. But more than a decade? Fuck!

The first object of his impure desires was a girl at his highschool called Ina. Her father was from the Philippines, her mother from his native Sweden. They had settled in a town about 100 miles from Stockholm and had two beautiful daughters, Elena and Ina. Mixing races usually makes for good looking people, and that certainly was the case here too. Elena was in his grade. She was quite pretty, and for a while he had a crush on her, until she hooked up with one of his friends. Ina however was beyond pretty. She had that slightly mysterious, serene beauty that women from the East sometimes have. Almond shaped, dark brown eyes. Long, straight, jet black hair, fine oriental features, whiter than white teeth. And, not hard to spot from underneath the habitual jeans and t-shirt, a great body. She and her sister were in his circle of friends. They were part of a large, popular and generally happy group of teenagers who hung out at school, and on weekends went to cafe's and bars, clubs and parties, where they danced, drank and smoked weed. So after Elena was out of the picture he focussed his attention on her younger sister. He even managed to have her come over to his house a couple of times, alone. They spent time in his room, talking, listening to music, drinking tea. But that was as close to her as he ever got. He was at that age too insecure to make a move. Rejection would have been fatal, the end of his life as he knew it, the eternal shame too much to bear. And she wasn't interested anyway. She never gave him the slightest hint or encouragement. She preferred older boys, with mopeds or - even better - cars.

In his teenage fantasies however, things were different. In his mind, at the end of their evening in his room she would end up on his bed, naked, on her elbows and knees, face down, waiting for him to fuck her from behind. But he wouldn't. Instead, he would pick up a smooth, white dildo, dip it in a bowl with some creamy, oily substance and without any warning push it in one slow, deliberate movement all the way into her cute, tight little asshole. She'd bury her face in the pillow and scream a muffled scream, arch her beautiful, olive colored back some more, and claw her fingernails into the matress. But she wouldn't move. She'd remain in that lovely, humiliating position. Gorgeous ass high up from the bed. He would keep the dildo all the way in, slowly lean over and whisper in her ear: “You like that, don't you?”

She'd whisper back just one word, barely audible: “Pain.”

“I know. It's good isn't it?”

She'd just nod.

He would then continue to fuck her tight, virgin little ass with the dildo. Slowly at first, with long, deliberate movements, opening her up a little bit more with every push. With one hand he'd hold her down by her neck, pushing her face into the pillow. With the other hand he would hold the dildo and fuck her, faster and faster until she'd have a violent orgasm, trembling, shaking and crying. Tears running down her cheeks. After a while she'd turn her face and look up at him with a mixture of shock, pain, gratitude and intense sexual arousal. So beautiful. It was a picture he could still, after all these years, conjure up in an instance.

The fantasy would always stop there. Mostly because that would be enough to make him come, the hormones racing at the speed of light through his teenage body. But also because any additional mental picture would break the magic. Like this, the fantasy was complete. Less is sometimes more.

His highschool years weren't the best of times when it came to sex, in spite of being quite popular. There were some fleeting encouters, kissing and feeling and fingering and a few blowjobs, but nothing more. It took him long to build up his confidence. He only lost his virginity at 18, just a few months before going off to university in Stockholm. It was a one night stand with a pretty 22 year old nurse who had somehow ended up at a highschool graduation party. Everybody slept over that night, and they ended up doing it on the couch in the living room of whoever gave the party. They were both quite drunk, and she gently and generously helped  him getting it all done, realizing this was his first time but being kind enough not to say anything about it. It was a little awkward, it always is the first time of course, but even more so because halfway through the lady of the house came down the stairs, walked right past them to the kitchen and then back again with something to eat in her hands. With his cock still inside her they pretended to be sleeping in each others arms, on top of each other actually, only covered by a light sheet. When the woman was gone they giggled bit and then continued fucking as if nothing had happened.

Everything changed when he went to university. Over the summer between school and college he somehow transformed from a handsome but skinny, slightly insecure boy into a splendid young man: tall, blond, blue eyed and full of confidence. His summer job logging wood had toned and tanned his body. Some of his schoolmates hardly recognised him when they saw him again at the university introduction week. One the first day of that week he ended up in bed with Britt, a petite, cute brunette with massive tits whom he fucked five times that night. She was the first of a long, long line of girls he slept with during those student years. There were lots of one night stands. Some girlfriends stayed on for a couple of weeks or months, and he had one more or less serious relationship that lasted a year and a half. But he was too restless, never completely satisfied, always looking for something new. Quite a lot of the girls became friends with benefits. He would see them once in a while, running into them randomly or going on a date, and more often than not ended up having sex with them. His Olympic achievement with Britt on that first night of the academic year had given him quite a reputation. Lots of girls wanted to experience that for themselves, and he was all too happy to accommodate them. Hardly a night would go by without him having sex. After his years in the doldrums in highschool it was now the opposite; he could get almost any girl he wanted.

And yet something was missing. He would have many more fantasies like the one about Ina, all through high school and university. Without exception they included dominant men (usually himself, sometimes others) and submissive women. Having lots of sex didn't change that. On the contrary, it only inspired him. But he never found a real kindred spirit, a soulmate, a girl who would let him turn his imagination into reality. For sure, some of his girlfriends liked a bit of kinky stuff. Britt was one of them. She enjoyed being tied up and blindfolded; the idea of submitting control and not knowing or being able to see what was going to happen next excited her. A little spanking was fine too. But when one day he took his belt and whipped her ass a few times she freaked out, even though he didn't do it all that hard. She wasn't impressed. They kept seeing each other after that night, but the boundary had been set and he never crossed it again. Other girls had different kinky preferences, and that was great, but it was usually him who would take the initiative and none of them would ever allow him to take it even closely to the level of his fantasies. He just didn't find the submissive girl he was looking for.

At the age of 24 he got his masters degree in economics, summa cum laude. Months before his graduation he had already secured a job at a large bank. He went straight into their trainee programme, from which he emerged top of his class. He had several positions at headquarters, every time proving to be one of the high potentials of the bank. His sex life during these years remained unchanged: filled to the brim with girlfriends, all of them pretty and great in bed, but still it was all not quite satisfactory. Then the bank sent him abroad. At 28 he became their youngest country manager ever. He arrived in a new town, in a new country, and had to start all over again in both his professional as well as his personal life.

***

It must have been the change of scenery, the fresh perspective, that gave him his idea. This time he wasn't going to randomly find women and only then figure out if they were into any of his kinky preferences. This time he was going to focus his search. Make the right girls come to him, instead of the other way around. Make sure they knew exactly what they were in for. A personal ad. Why not, he thought, what the hell, hardly anybody knew him here - yet. He would still have to be a bit careful given his position, no photo's or too many personal details. He actually changed them a little, pretending to be a few years older and a couple of inches shorter than he really was. Just to make sure.

After a few days of drafting and redrafting he placed the following ad:

Young (31), tall (6ft2), handsome master seeks slavegirl (18 – 35).

Inner and outer beauty essential.

Experience not required. Discretion guaranteed.

Send reply with photo. Do it right now!

He didn't expect much. Would anybody respond? Maybe some students with too much time and hormones on their hands, as a prank on a housemate or something. Perhaps it would attract a few crackpots. Or crazy, ugly bitches.

He deliberately stayed away from the designated mailbox he had created for this purpose for two weeks. If there were going to be any serious replies, give them some time. When he finally opened the mailbox on a Saturday morning he couldn't believe his eyes. 29 replies! Could it be? Surely one or two should be allright. He started reading them one by one. Despite his excitement he read them slowly and carefully, methodically sorting the letters into three categories: “yes”, “no” and “maybe”. Sure enough quite a few of the replies were clearly jokes, with lurid descriptions of what weird stuff they wanted to do and photo's of beautiful women copy-pasted from some magazine. Some others were too ugly to even contemplate, and two or three seemed to be in it for money. He spent the entire weekend reading and rereading, and in the end he had selected six replies of good looking women that he believed to be serious and thruthful. He then ranked them 1 to 6. In that order he was going to approach them until he hit the jackpot. He felt like a little boy in a toy store. All of a sudden there seemed to be so much to choose from! At some point during the weekend he decided to be a little greedy. If it worked out well, he would take two slavegirls!

Part II: Julie

Dear master,

The last couple of weeks, two things happened that I think - I hope! - are going to change my life. First I found a book. I was at my favourite bookstore downtown, browsing for nothing in particular, when I picked up a book that didn't ring a bell at all. I don't know why I took it from the shelf. It didn't stand out in any way, its cover entirely black, no picture whatsoever. I started reading the first pages and within minutes my face was all red and my hands were trembling. I couldn't believe it! This book was about me! This was what I've always dreamed of.

The book is called “The Story of O” by a French author called Pauline Reage. You probably know it. After reading a few more pages I went to the till all nervous, the book sandwiched between two other books that I had randomly picked so people wouldn't notice what I was buying. It almost felt illegal, like shoplifting. The girl at the till smiled at me. Was it a knowing smile? I fumbled with my wallet, dropped the coins that I got as change and raced out of the bookstore and back home. I finished the book that same night, in one big gulp. To say I was excited doesn't do justice to what I was feeling. My heart was racing, my throat was dry but I didn't allow myself time to get a drink. The next day I read the book again, and then again. I've read it more than a dozen times already.

Then, just as I was beginning to wonder if there could be a way to make something like this happen to me too, I found your ad yesterday. I'm totally stunned. This cannot be a coincidence. There has to be a reason for this.

So here I am, begging you to make me your slavegirl. I hope you find me atractive enough. You can do anything to me that's in the book, and more I suppose. Please take me, you won't regret it.

Yours in submission,

Julie

***

She had included three photo's of herself; one headshot, one in which she was wearing an evening dress, and one in bikini. She looked like the proverbial girl next door, the hot version. Early to mid twenties. Long blond hair, with a slight wave, blue eyes, nice tan, an athletic body and fantastic tits; big but not too big. Most noticeable however was her smile. She had the biggest, widest, whitest smile he'd ever seen. A generous smile, one that radiated joy and kindness. He imagined her as a caring, happy person.

On Monday he sent her a message asking for her phone number. She replied within minutes. That evening at eight, he called her.

“Hello.”

“Hi, is this Julie?”

“Yes, yes it is!” She sounded excited and nervous. Good, he thought, she should be.

“Julie, you responded to my personal ad, is that correct?”

“Yes! Yes sir. That's right!”

“Julie, I've had lots of replies to that ad. More than I expected, to be honest. I have selected a few respondents that I want to meet in person. You are one of them. Are you free this weekend?”

“Eh, yes, yes sir, of course I am!”

“Good.” He talked slowly and deliberately. “I want us to meet at the cafe in the park, the one with the terrace overlooking the river. Do you know that place?”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“Good. Be there Saturday at 2 PM, just after lunch. Find a free table on the terrace, order something to drink and wait for me to approach you. Don't sit there looking around for me. Bring a magazine or something to keep you occupied. If I haven't shown up by 3, something unexpected has come up. In that case you go home and wait for my call. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” she answered. “Sir, how will I recognize you?”

“You won't. You don't have to. I will recognize you. All you have to do is wait. When I come to your table you'll know it's me.”

“OK.”

“Any other questions?”, he asked.

“No sir. Oh, yes, actually I do have one: what do you want me to wear?”

“Ah. Good question. If we get along, one we will address many times in future. This first time, I'll leave it up to you though. I don't know your wardrobe yet. But here are my thoughts, for what it's worth. You are going on a date with someone you've never met before, who I assume you will want to impress. But it's coffee on a Saturday afternoon, not the opera or a club or something, so you don't want to overdo it. So dress nicely, but don't overdress. Does that give you enough guidance?”

“Yes sir, I think so, thank you.”

“I'll see you on Saturday then.”

The cafe in the park probably had a name, but everybody knew it simply as the cafe in the park. It had a wonderful terrace on stilts overlooking the river that ran right through the heart of the city. They served simple but very good organic food. He parked himself at a table with a good view of the whole terrace, and had a quiet lunch. The weather was nice, sunny but not too hot. At exactly 2 PM Julie arrived. He saw her from the corner of his eye, making sure not to look up from the newspaper he was pretending to read. She was wearing black jeans and a white, tailored blouse. Judging from the way her figure was accentuated by her clothes he thought she must be wearing a push-up bra. She'd left the tiniest bit of cleavage. To finish it all off she had put on sandals with heels, not too high, 3 or 4 inches he figured. His female friends would tell him that heels on jeans were a fashion nono, but like most men he kind of liked it. He waited until her tea had arrived, glancing at her from behind his paper. She had followed his instruction and opened a fashion magazine, which judging from the way she was flipping through it, she was also not actually reading.

Time to make his move. He picked up his double espresso and strolled over to her, along the way signalling to the waitress he was moving table.

“Hello Julie.”

She looked up and smiled at him. “Hi, ehh...”

“You can call me Michael”, he smiled back.

“Hi Michael, it's so nice to meet you.”

“Same here, Julie, same here.”

He sat down. Softly he said: “Listen, while we are here in public we will chitchat a little until we have finished our tea and coffee. Then we will take a walk in the park and talk about what we are really here for, OK?”

“Of course, anything you say, I am in your hands.”

They talked about how she had only just arrived in this city as well, after graduating from college a few months ago (good thing, he thought, she can't have too many friends here yet), how she'd found a job as a legal assistant at a law firm, about the little appartment she had found, and so on. After finishing their drinks he paid and they slowly walked into the park. They were alone now, no longer within earshot of other people.

“Julie, your letter sounded very promising. But I need to be certain about your expectations. So this afternoon we're going to do a lot of talking. In fact, to be more precise, you will be doing most of the talking. I want you to tell me everything about yourself, your sexual experiences, and most importantly about your dreams and fantasies. We have to see if they match my preferences. I think they will, but I want to be sure. You understand?”

“Of course. I will tell you anything you want to know.”

“Excellent.”

“Will you tell me your fantasies as well?”

“No, I won't. I will keep them to myself for now. You'll have to trust me when I judge whether we're on the same page or not. If I think we're a match, you will find out soon enough what's on my mind. Would be a pity to spoil the surprise, don't you think?“

She smiled and nodded.

“Now there are two places where we can have this long conversation. We can go sit here on a bench somewhere, where there are no other people close by. Or, if you think you can trust me enough already, we can go over to my place.”

She looked at him for a moment. Then she said: “Oh well, I suppose the worst thing that could happen is that you violently rape me.” And then she gave him that big, generous smile: “Which would be fine with me!”

They both laughed. “Well, that settles it, I suppose. My place it will be.”

They walked across the park to his car, and drove to his house. He lived in a free standing villa, not very big but with a nice garden and a swimming pool. Most importantly, it was completely private. The house was situated at the end of a cul-de-sac, on a little hill, with hedges and trees on the edges of the garden.

In the car he instructed her some more about their upcoming conversation.

“I'm going to ask you lots of questions about your sex life and your fantasies. In your answers, I expect you to give me the full version of each story, in all its pornographic detail. So my first question will be about losing your virginity. Don't just tell me his name and how old you were, tell me everything. Where you were, what he did to you, and you to him, how it felt, smelled, and so on. The same with your fantasies. Don't hold back. I need to know everything.” He looked at her with his piercing blue eyes: “Being my slavegirl not only means I own your body, but also, and more importantly, I own your mind. ”

She began to tell him about her first time. His name was Peter, he'd been her boyfriend for almost a year, they were both 16, it was during the afternoon, his parents were away so they were in his room, she sucked him off a little, he fumbled with the condom for what seemed like half an hour, it didn't hurt too much. The rest of her sex life so far had been rather uneventful. She had slept with four men in total, including Peter. With all of them she'd had a more or less serious relationship, but none of these guys had even remotely excited her. On the contrary, they were nice enough guys but sexually they had bored her to death. She'd never had an orgasm with any of them.

“Did you fake?”, he asked.

“Yeah, sometimes. I felt sorry for them.”

“Did you never try to coax them into doing something more exciting?”

“I tried, but they didn't get the message. I was probably too vague about it as well. I didn't dare to ask them to tie me up or something.”

Her fantasies however were rather different.

“You wrote in your letter that you identified with O. You must have lots of naughty fantasies then. Tell me about the first fantasy you've had about being a slavegirl.”

“Well, ever since I was a child, I've dreamed about being kidnapped. By pirates, knights or vikings, later about biker gangs as well. At that age it was all quite innocent of course. They would keep me prisoner in a castle or on their ship or something. Some hero or the other would come and rescue me. As I got older, 15 or 16 I guess, slowly these dreams would become darker and more erotic. They would keep me in a cage or tie me up. Nobody would come and rescue me any more. One of the pirates or vikings would come to the cage at night and rip my shirt off, leaving me topless, roughly handling my breasts. Or the knight would come down to the dungeon, have the door opened and locked again by the guard, and rape me. I wouldn't scream, in my fantasy. I wouldn't even resist much. I would let them have me. They'd be hard men, who wouldn't give a damn about me or whether I liked what they did. Even though I didn't resist, they would hurt me anyway. Slap my face, hold my arms behind my back, choke me. In time, these fantasy rapes would become ever more violent. They would smack my ass and tits, not just a little but really hard. It would turn into a gang rape; first 2 pirates or vikings or bikers, then 3 and then the whole crew. Fucking me in all my holes. The pirates would tie me to the mast, naked, and whip me. I would imagine the welts on my back, my ass, my tits. I'd be screaming, but we'd be out at sea so no one would hear. So this is not only my first, but as it developed also my favourite fantasy. It always gets me off completely.”

“Have you ever been spanked or whipped?”, he asked.

“Not by any boyfriend or something. They were far too boring for any of that. And I've never been raped, either. Not even a pretend rape. But I do have some experience that counts, I think. I grew up in a very strict household. My father was a true disciplinarian. His punishments were always physical. Starting when I was about 12, if I had done something wrong, in his view, he would whip my ass with his belt. I would have to bend over his knee, or the table, he would tell me to pull up the skirt of my school uniform and pull down my panties, and then he'd belt me. Usually a dozen times. It really hurt. When he was finished I would run up the stairs to my room, crying, and hide underneath the sheets. What he didn't know however, was that once I was safely in my bed with the door closed, my hand would go between my legs. I'd always be soaking wet, and I would masturbate until I had an orgasm. The belting made me so horny. This belting happened about once a month, right until I left home and went to college.”

“Do you think it turned your father on as well?”

She looked at him a little shocked, as if the thought had never occurred to her. “I'm not sure, but now that you mention it I do think I noticed him having a bulge in his pants once or twice, when he was punishing me. And he only did this to me, never to my younger brother.” 

“Tell me about your wildest, most extreme fantasy. Something you dreamed about and which excited you, but maybe shocked you a little as well, the perversity of it, and you're not sure if it is something you'd do in real life.”

She thought for a moment. Then she spoke again. “About half a year ago a friend of mine from college, Martha, asked if I wanted to join her on a trip to her folks house. Her parents were on a short vacation or something and she had to take care of the animals. It was about a three hour drive and she'd like some company. I didn't have any plans so I went along. The house was beautiful but very isolated, in the middle of nowhere, the nearest neighbour more than a mile away. When we opened the front door a big, black dog came to greet us. I have no idea what kind of dog it was, but it was almost as high as my hips and it was large, broad, strong and heavy. After greeting Martha the dog came up to me and went straight for my crotch. Its big, wet snout pushed against my pussy. I was glad I was wearing jeans that day. Funny thing was, Martha didn't do anything to stop him. She just said “Julie, this is Boris.” She took me to the living room, sat me on the couch and walked to the kitchen to make some tea. Right away Boris was back, pushing my legs apart with his head. I didn't know what to do, so I just petted Boris' head and mumbled something like “good boy”. He pushed hard against my crotch. Martha's head appeared in the door opening from the kitchen and she said “Mhh, looks like Boris likes you!” I followed her eyes and saw that Boris had an erection. Still Martha didn't come to the rescue. She just smiled at me. A little wicked smile which seemed to say that she knew quite well what can happen when Boris really likes you. She disappeared into the kitchen again, leaving me with a horny dog who was now making preparations to hump me. Only when she came back with the tea she stopped the dog and shooed him outside. He reluctantly obliged. Martha didn't apologize for the dog's behaviour, which most people would do I guess. She just said “Such a naughty dog”, or something. We fed the animals and made our way back, not mentioning the episode with Boris again. That night however, in my bed, I thought about being fucked by Boris. I fingered myself to a splashing orgasm on that fantasy. It felt gross and very exciting at the same time.”

“Do you think Martha ever fucked the dog?”

“I don't know. Her behaviour was a little odd, I think. She didn't seem to think it unusual at all that Boris was pushing his snout against my pussy and having an erection doing so. I think she might have. Fucked him, I mean.”

Michael contemplated Julie's words for a moment. “If Martha ever invites you again, I want you to let me know.”

“OK.” She paused for a moment. Then she smiled: “Does that mean...”

“Yes, it does actually. I've heard enough. For now at least. I am pretty sure that what we both want is compatible. I think we have a match.”

Her eyes became a little moist. “Really? Oh, that would mean so much to me. I swear you won't regret it. I'll do anything...”

He held up his hand to shut her up. She bit her lower lip and looked at him insecurely, not knowing if she had done something wrong. 

“I know you will”, he said. “That's the whole point, isn't it?”

She just nodded.

He grilled her about possible STD's and asked if she was on birth control. She was disease free and she used the pill. “Good, I hate condoms.”

Then he went on to explain the nature of their future relationship. “I expect complete submission and obedience. In other words, you will do anything I want, and I can do with you anything I want. That's the basic rule. Many more will follow as we go along. There will be no taboes. Expect everything you've read in the book, and more. You've already found out from the belting by your father that pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin. We will explore that further. Much further. The nice thing is, the possbilities are literally endless. Our only limitation is our imagination.

“In case of emergency, if you think something goes wrong or things go out of control, we will have a safeword. Our safeword will be “Budapest”.  It has no special meaning, which makes it a good safeword. Do not use it lightly however, it's for real emergencies only. In fact, I hope and expect you will never have to use it. Anything else, crying, begging, pleading, I will not respond to. Do not scream. First and foremost because I don't like screaming. But also because, even though this place is prettty private, we still have neighbours. We don't want them or the police knocking on our door asking if anything's wrong. If you make too much noise I will have to gag you, which will make it hard again to say the safeword.

“When we play our master and slave game, you do not speak unless I ask you a specific question. When you answer, you will address me with “master” or “sir”.

“If this develops into a relationship, we will lead some sort of double life. To the outside world, we will continue to live as we do now. Nothing will change. Inside these walls, when it's just us, things will of course be completely different. But nobody will know.”

“Finally, I need you to know that there is a second candidate. We may end up in a threeway. I assume you won't have a problem with that?”

She shook her head vigorously: “No sir, that is entirely your decision.”

He looked into her blue eyes. “With that, Julie, I am now asking you formally: do you want to be my slavegirl?” 

She had a serious expression and nodded: “Yes, yes sir, I do! I do want to be your slavegirl. Please!”

He kept his cool but could hardly hide his excitement. Finally! The long wait was over.

“Excellent! Now I want you to freshen up a little, the bathroom is over on the right. When you're done, come to the master bedroom at the end of the hallway. I'll be waiting for you there. Don't take too long.”

As she got up and walked away from him he admired her figure once more. She was quite tall, he guessed about 5ft10. Golden hair, golden skin. Her ass looked magnificent in the jeans, accentuated by the heels. Ah, they were going to have so much fun together!

Apart from the privacy and the garden, the master bedroom had been one of the main reasons why he had chosen this house. It was big, some 25 by 20 ft, with a 10 ft. high ceiling. Some well known fashion model had lived there before who had constructed a walk-in closet. Big sliding doors opened to a terrace with electric sun awnings where he had placed some comfortable lounge chairs. The pool was a few steps further down into the garden. Like the rest of the house he had sparsely but elegantly furnished the bedroom. A super king size, four poster bed took centre stage. In one corner was a large, comfortable club chair. It was his favourite chair, a gift from his father when he went to university. On the side against the wall an antique chest of drawers. Three abstract paintings covered the walls on one side, the rest was mainly windows overlooking the garden. With a few small alterations he had prepared the room for the fun and games they were going to have. Nothing big, just some rings and hooks in strategic places in the walls and the ceiling, almost invisible if you didn't look for it.

He had quickly changed into a pair of black linnen pants and a black shirt, no shoes or socks. The heavy curtains were closed, just on the one side he had left them open a little to let in some light. He sat in the club chair, facing the door, waiting for her, sipping from a glass of Glenlivet, with a drop of water, no ice. After a few minutes she slowly walked into the room toward him, her eyes adjusting to the dim light in the room. When she was a few yards away from him, he told her to stop right there.

She waited. He took another slow sip from his whisky, observing her. Then he said: “I want you to do a little striptease. Nothing elaborate, no dancing or anything, just take your clothes off, slowly. Make it sexy.”

She did. She took a deep breath and started to unbutton her blouse.  He'd been right; she was wearing a push-up bra. Little by little her blouse opened, until she let it slide from her shoulders. Next she unhooked her bra, looking at him seductively. She held it for a second before letting it drop to the floor. Finally he was getting a look at her magnificent tits. They were even better than he had imagined: big (he guessed a D cup), round, firm, natural. Taking off the bra hardly made a difference, they remained in position, perky and proud. He was glad that her breasts were the same bronze colour as the rest of her body; not these white bikini tits he hated so much. Next off were the shoes. Then she slowly opened her jeans. She allowed him a quick peek at the front of her white panties, then turned around and peeled the jeans slowly, very slowly, off her cute ass. As she continued to push her jeans down her legs, she bent over inch by inch until she had reached her anckles, legs straight, ass high up, and stayed like that for a few seconds. She kicked off the jeans, got up again and repeated the same slow movement with her panties, peeling them off her now naked ass which also had that even, bronze colour. As she bent over he caught a glimpse of her pussy. She got up again, now completely naked, and turned to face him again. Then she waited.

“Put your hands behind your back”, he ordered. It made her push out her gorgeous tits even more.

She looked at him. “Cast your eyes down, girl.” She obeyed quickly.

He took another sip from his whisky and studied her for a long time, taking in every detail. Her skin was beautiful, hardly any birthmarks or other blemishes. She was quite athletic, without showing too much muscle. Her breasts were just about perfect, her aureoles a dark pink and, thankfully, not too big. Her nipples were hard, pointing toward him. She had shaved her pussy, leaving just a little landing strip of blond pubic hair. The only thing that distracted from an otherwise almost perfect picture was a tiny little roll of fat around her waist. She would have to lose a few pounds. He would have to send her to the gym.

Finally he got up and slowly walked up to her. He cupped her left breast in his hand. He had large hands, but her breasts were slightly bigger than that. Exactly the right size, he thought. He massaged her breast gently, squeezing the soft but firm flesh, pinching her hard nipples. She moaned softly. He walked around her, his fingertips trailing from her breast over her shoulders and down her back. Now he cupped her ass, and squeezed again. He murmurred approvingly, it was nice and hard. He patted her ass cheeck gently and moved his hand up to her waist. He found the fat roll and squeezed again, not so gently this time. He could sense her holding her breath.

“What is this?”, he asked sharply.

“I'm sorry sir, I haven't done any sports the past five months, since I moved here. I have put on some weight.”

“Mhhh.” He clearly disapproved. “What sport do you do?”

“Field hockey, sir. I've played it all my life, right through high school and college, at a fairly high level. I wanted to find a team here but haven't got to it yet. I'll do it next week, sir.”

“That might not be possible”, he answered.

“Why not, sir?”, she answered surprised.

“Well, I assume field hockey involves locker rooms, showers and a bunch of young women frolicking around naked after the match. Am I correct?”

“Eh, yes sir, sort of.”

“As appealing as that is as a mental picture, you and a group of equally pretty girls all naked in the shower, you can no longer do that. In future your body will more often than not have marks. Rope marks, whipping marks. You wouldn't be able to hide them. There would be questions.”

She nodded slowly.

“You will have to find another way to get back into shape. Go to a gym or something. I want this ugly fat roll gone as soon as possible, you understand? ”

He pinched it again, harder. She squealed a little. “Yes, sir.”

From the chest of drawers he took four leather bracelets, each with a stainless steel ring attached to it. He put them on her wrists, still positioned behind her back, and her anckles. They looked surprisingly elegant. He reached up and pulled down a spreader bar which was hanging from the ceiling. Each end had a shackle which he attached to the rings on her wrist bracelets, her arms in front of her now. Through a system of blocks, the kind used at sailing yachts, he pulled her up with a rope. He stretched her a little, her arms above her head, and secured the rope. Then he took another spreader bar and attached it to her anckles. Her feet were about 2 ft apart. When he had fixed her feet he took the other rope again and pulled her up some more, stretching her further, forcing her to stand on her toes. He sat back down in his club chair, took another sip of his single malt, and admired his work. It was a view to behold. A stretched female body was one of the most beautiful sights he could think of, especially with a body as stunning as Julie's. The muscles in her arms and legs were showing, her breasts were pulled up a little higher still, her legs apart so he finally had a really good view of her pussy. Her beautiful pussy. Did he see something glistening there? Was she wet already? Oh, the little slut. The little role of fat no longer showed.

He got up. Again he gently caressed her body, slowly sliding his fingertips from her neck down her back, touching her ass ever so lightly, then going around to her stomach and up to her tits. He kissed her softly on her lips. Again a barely audible moan. Then he stepped behind her and took something out of the chest of drawers. It was a thin leather riding crop with a flat, square leather tip. He let the tip slide down her back, just as he had done with his fingers. She shivered. Then he walked around again and followed the same route, the tip of the crop slowly crawling from her stomach toward her rock hard nipples. He could see goosebumps on her skin. She was panting lightly. Her eyes were following the crop, she looked at it as if she expected him to whip her nipple any moment. “Not yet, my dear”, he thought, “not yet.” He stepped behind her again.

He tested the flexibility of the riding crop, bending it at the tip. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he took a practice swing in the air. The whip made a sharp, hissing sound. Swoooshhh. Hearing it, Julie tensed and flexed her muscles, and gasped, expecting the whip to land on her back. It took her a few moments to realize nothing had happened, her mind conditioned to expect impact after the sound. She relaxed her body. She was panting more heavily now. He waited a few more seconds. Then he whipped her for real.

With a loud crack the tip of the riding crop landed on her ass. He watched her body tense again, a sharp intake of breath, her head spinning backwards as if someone pulled her hair hard. This time there was pain. It takes a split second for the brain to connect the sounds, the hiss of the whip and the crack, with the pain upon impact. When the pain did register, Julie squealed again. Not very loud, it sounded more like a surprised “oh!”. He waited for her body to relax, let the sharp pain subside into a more lingering pain. Then he whipped her once more, a little higher on her ass. She went through the same cycle; the hissing sound of the crop slicing through the air, the impact, her body tensing, the pain, sharp at first then slowly easing, and getting ready for the next hit. He took his time, allowing at least half a minute between each blow. He focussed on her glorious ass first, 7 or 8 times, leaving beautiful welts, then moved up her back, each time a little higher. She squealed, wriggled, moaned, cried a little, but she didn't scream. “Good girl,” he thought. He finished with three hits on the back of her thighs, carefully counting 20 hits in total. The red marks showed a nice crisscross pattern on her body.

He stepped in front of her. She was perspiring a little, her legs trembling from the stretched position she was in, still standing on her toes. She was panting heavily now. Her chest was heaving. God, how her chest was heaving beautifully! Those glorious tits rising up and down. He leaned in and kissed her passionately on her mouth, surprising her. She kissed him back with equal passion, their tongues twisting and turning around eachother. His hand moved between her legs. He opened her labia and found that she was dripping wet. “Good girl,” he thought again. With his other hand he pushed a few strands of hair out of her face, kissed her gently on her lips and whispered “Looks like we have a real pain slut here.” She just nodded. Without warning he roughly pushed two fingers inside her pussy, all the way to his knuckles. She moaned loudly, mumbled “Oh God” before he kissed her on the mouth again. He started fucking her with his two fingers, her pussy was nice and tight, he noticed with satisfaction. She moaned with her mouth locked on his, doing her best to follow his instruction not to scream.

He stopped handfucking her as abruptly as he had started. She was close to orgasm. After he pulled out his hand, her hips continued to girate, desperately trying to find something to grind her pussy against. There was nothing, only air. It took her quite a while to calm down. She wanted to come, but he wouldn't let her, and there was nothing she could do about it. He waited patiently in his club chair, watching her, sipping from his drink.

When her breathing was more or less back to normal, he walked over to the chest of drawers once more. This time he took out a blindfold. It had taken him quite a lot of searching to find one that was elegant and effective at the same time. This one was, it was made of lace and cotton, narrow so most of Julie's pretty face was still visible, yet it covered her eyes completely. She couldn't see a thing. After he blindfolded her he waved his hand in front of her face. No response.

Time for the second round. This time he didn't make a practice swing. He positioned himself in front of her, and with another quick flick of his wrist the tip of the riding crop hit her left nipple, the flexible shaft giving it great speed and impact. Her breast bounced, as if in slow motion. This time she did scream. Not from the top of her lungs, but it was a scream allright. “Shhhhh”, he whispered. She nodded, knowing that if she'd scream one more time he would gag her, and probably whip her harder. He took his time again, giving her time to recover after each hit. The next one was on her other breast, just above her nipple. She knew what was coming now, so no more screams. He went back and forth between her breasts two more times, aiming for her nipples. He finished on her legs, four lashes on the inside of her thighs, every time a bit closer to her pussy. Ten hits in total. The whipping had taken her back to the condition she'd been in before, moaning and panting, chest heaving, those wonderful tits now with dark, red marks, moving up and down, not saying a word of course but in her mind begging him to fuck her. “Please, please make me come! Please fuck me.” He could almost hear her. A single tear rolled on her cheek from underneath the blindfold. By now she was more hanging from her arms than standing on her toes.  

But it wasn't time to satisfy her yet. She'd have to wait. She'd have to earn it. So far he had done all the work. Now it was time for her to show some skills. He stood close to her and whispered: “In a moment I am going to take you down. When the shackles are off, I want you to go on your hands and knees and wait. When I tell you to, you can take off the blindfold and come crawling to me. I want you to crawl to me and give me the best blowjob I have ever had. Not the best one you have ever given - that should be easy enough, but the best one I have ever had. I've had a few really good ones. Once I nearly fainted. So you're going to have to exceed by far everything you've ever done before. Understood?”

“Yes master.” She was slowly edging away from the brink of the orgasm she wasn't going to have, hoping in vain he may still allow her to come. He gave the spreader bar at the ceiling some slack, so she could stand on her feet again, a bit unsteadily. He unhooked the shackles from her wrists and anckles, leaving the bracelets. He grabbed her hair and pushed her down. She got on all fours and waited for his signal. He slowly strolled around her, admiring her from all sides. Her body was covered in red marks from the riding crop. She couldn't see him but sensed where he was, her head moving in his direction as he slowly tiptoed around her.

He sat down in his chair again, finished his whisky, and told her to go ahead. She slid off the blindfold and started to crawl towards him, slowly, sexy, looking up at him all the time, hips swaying gently, her big tits hanging between her arms. She made a little circle so he could watch her from all angles, before she arrived at his chair. She bent down and kissed his feet. Next she moved her mouth up his legs. She pulled up his shirt a little and kissed his stomach. He pulled the shirt over his head, exposing his toned torso. Then down again, towards his cock. She kissed it through his pants, opened the button and zipper and together with his boxers slowly pulled it down. His eight inch cock was as hard as steel. Julie started planting gentle kisses all over it, from the base to its head and back again. First it was just her lips, then she started using her tongue as well. Every now and the she looked up at him with her big blue eyes, seeking confirmation or encouragement, before she went back to her task. She licked his balls, then sucked them, taking them in her warm mouth, one by one. It felt great. She went up to its head again and started licking it, holding the base of his cock with her hand, tasting a bit of salty precum. Finally she took his cock in her mouth. He had high hopes, given her big smile, and he wasn't disappointed. She let his cock slide in and out a few times, making rythmic movements, each time a little deeper. Then it slowly disapppeared all the way into her mouth. At the end of that move, her lips touched his pelvis and the tip of his cock was somewhere down her throat. She held it for a second, then withdrew, her lips back at its head, her tongue making circles, and did it again. She continued to suck him off  like this at a slow pace, taking his cock all the way down her throat and equally slowly pulling it out. He tried to make it last, but failed miserably. He was too horny, and this blowjob was just too good. She noticed he was about to come, pulled out slowly once more, opened her mouth wide and finished using her hand. He came like a bomb, his head back, holding on tight to the armrests of the chair, squirting load after generous load all over her face. She'd never seen a guy produce so much sperm before. Most of it landed in her mouth, some of it in her hair, on her forehead and a little bit on her left eye. She tasted it, it was a bit sweet she thought, then swallowed all of it. With her finger she scooped his cum off her face and put it in her mouth as well. She waited a while to let him come to his senses, before she proceeded to carefully clean his cock with her mouth and tongue, very gently because his cock was incredibly sensitive now. When she was finished he looked at her with an expression of intense satisfaction. “That, my dear Julie, probably wàs the best blowjob of my life. If not, then it's certainly in my top three. I am very pleased with you.”

She gave him her generous smile. “That makes me so happy, Master. That's all I want. I want you to always be pleased with me.”

She was still on her knees between his legs. She rested her head on his thigh. He caressed her hair. She gave him little kisses on the inside of his leg. They stayed like that for some time, blissfully content, not speaking, both of them lost in their own thoughts, running the events of the afternoon through their minds.

After they had a shower together he told her about the dress code. “You asked about what to wear the other day on the phone. That was a good question. So here's the next set of rules. As far as your clothing is concerned, there are three possible situations. When it's just the two of us, usually here at this place but basically anywhere where we are together and nobody can disturb us, you will always wear a skirt or a dress, without underwear. No panties, no bra. Except of course when you have your period, we don't want you bleeding all over the furniture. You can decide what kind of dress or skirt you'll wear, long or short, tight or wide. I like a bit of variation, though, so bring a bit of everything. Kimono's and sarongs are also good. So when you enter this house and we have no guests, the first thing you will always do is change. Can you guess why I want this?”

“So you can always have access to my … openings?”

“Exactly.”

She looked pleased with herself.

He continued. “Second, when you're on your own, going to work or to the shops or for a coffee, you'll wear whatever you would be wearing before we met. Don't change a thing. Again with one exception: I don't know if you tend to wear very sexy stuff, but if so from now on you can tone it down a notch. No need to attract the attention of men, now that you've found one.

“The third possibility is when we go out together. Whether it's for dinner or to a concert or to the supermarket or whatever, every time we leave the house together, you will always ask me what to wear. Expect a wide variety in my answers. Sometimes I will give you very detailed instructions, down to your make-up, jewelry, lingerie, all of it. Other times I may tell you to just put on whatever you feel like. And anything in between.”

She got it. “I didn't bring any skirt or dress for this weekend,” she said a little shyly.

“Why don't you pick one of my shirts,” he said.

She came back from the walk-in closet in a blue shirt that matched the colour of her eyes. It was just long enough to cover her ass. She had closed only two buttons, around her navel, leaving a very deep cleavage. Here she was, this beautiful young woman who he had tied and whipped just before and who had then deepthroated his cock to thank him, looking all happy and satisfied, smiling at him while she walked towards him wearing nothing but his shirt. It was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen.

They made dinner together, had it on the terrace with a good glass of wine and talked about all kinds of things, the sort of things people talk about when they are getting to know each other.

At some point she asked: “Is it a 24/7 thing, being your slavegirl? I mean, I'm getting a little confused. I'm not quite sure if I should call you Michael or Master right now.”

“Well, call me Master Michael and you're never wrong,” he laughed.

“Seriously,” he continued, “the answer is yes and no. No in the sense that we will spend a lot of time like this. I'll be Michael and you'll be Julie, and we'll behave like any ordinary couple. I can't have you tied up and be whipping you all the time, can I? Just like other people don't have sex all the time. But the answer is yes in the sense that you have to be always ready for me. At any given time or place I can decide it's time for a game, and when that happens you will instantly change into my slavegirl.”

“How will I know it's time to switch?”

“You'll learn”, he said airily. “You'll make mistakes at first. You'll be punished for them. But as we get to know each other you'll get better at it.”

After dinner he took her to the bedroom again. He joked with her: “You do realize that now you are slavegirl Julie and I am master again, right?”

“Yes master”, she answered, with a twinkle in her eyes.

This time he tied her to the four poster bed, which had some rings screwed into the wood in strategic places so he could attach and secure his ropes and chains. He placed her on her knees, hands tied behind her back and hoisted up so her face was buried in the matress. He whipped her ass some more, this time with a cat o' nine tails. In no time, she was all wet and excited again, taking her once more to where she had been earlier that afternoon: really close to orgasm, but not quite there yet and in dire need of him to do something to take her over the edge. He wondered if he could make her cum without touching her pussy. He decided to reward her. Apart from that single scream, she'd been very good so far. He opened her swollen labia with his fingers and started rubbing her clit. Ten seconds, that was all it took. Then she exploded, her whole body shaking, biting her lip until it almost bled to avoid another scream. She told him later that night it was, by a mile, no by a hundred miles, the best orgasm she had ever had. Then he fucked her. It was a rough, hard, brutal fuck. She loved it. She was still tied, on her knees, face down. He held her by her hair and rammed his cock into her tight pussy, over and over again until he came inside her, pulling her hair so hard her face tilted towards the ceiling. 

***

Religiously, every Sunday morning he played squash, no matter what had happened the Saturday night before. Parties till early morning, lots of alcohol, wild sex, it didn't matter. He'd get up at 8 for his game. He made no exception for Julie. He left at 8.30 telling her he'd be back at about eleven. He instructed her to tidy up the bedroom, and to shave off her landing strip. “I don't like it, it looks cheap, like you're some second rate porn star. Shave it off. Other than that, make yourself comfortable until I'm back.”

On the drive back from his game he had an idea for an addition to his Sunday morning routine. Normally he would take a dive in his swimming pool to cool off, followed by a long shower or bath. Today, and all future Sundays, he decided, she would give him a massage. Pleased with himself, he walked into the garden covered in sweat, his polo shirt fully soaked. She greeted him in the hall, still only wearing his blue shirt.

“Did you have a good game?”, she asked.

He slapped her ass lightly. “I lost, but at least I got to practice my forehand,” he said.

“Oooh, sounds promising,” she purred.

He took off all his clothes right there and dived naked into the pool. When he climbed out after a few laps, all refreshed, she stood ready with a towel. I can really get used to this, he thought. As he dried himself, he asked her: “Do you know how to give a massage?”

“Well, I've not been trained or anything. But I do think I know the basics. I've given a massage once or twice,” she answered.

“How about some practice,” he said. He gave her a little kiss, took her hand and walked her to the bedroom once more. He handed her a bottle of massage oil and told her to get to work. It was good, not great – he would send her on a course or something. But it relaxed him and reinvigorated his muscles. The oil and their naked bodies inspired them to another round of sex, without whips and chains this time, just their oiled bodies merging. They had a bath together and spent the rest of the day by the pool; he was doing some work and she was reading a book she'd found in his bookshelf.

That evening, before he took her back to her apartment, he asked her if she would like to come back. “This wil be the second and last time I ask. I think I know the answer, but I need to be sure. Also, if you do, you need to know you'll be my slavegirl, not my prisoner. You can walk away any time.”

She said she would really, really like to come back. She would beg him on her bare knees if that's what it took. If he was satisfied with her, of course.

“I am, my dear, I am. I can see this developing into something really beautiful.”

When he dropped her off at her flat, he said: “I will call you when I want you to be with me. Next weekend I'll meet with the other candidate, so it might be a more than a week before my call. Just carry on with your life, do what you always do. Do not get in touch with me, understood? Wait for my call.”

“Yes master. Thank you so much. This has been the most amazing weekend of my life. I hope there will be many more.” She gave him a final big white smile and disappeared into her building.

He didn't manage the whole of next week without her, of course. After all these years of longing, the urge was too strong. He called her Wednesday evening just before leaving the office, picked her up on the way home, tied her hands above her head to one of the bedposts, whipped her and fucked her brains out. The next morning he dropped her off early enough for both of them to get to the office in time. It was the master-slave equivalent of a quicky. Then he started preparing for candidate number two.

Part III: Maki

Dear master,

A few years ago, I was in a relationship which, in retrospect, I think could be described as master and slave, even though we never used those terms ourselves. It lasted two consecutive summers. It ended in tragedy, although that had nothing to do with the nature of the relationship. I am reluctant to write about it, but I hope you will give me the chance to tell you the whole story in person.

After it ended I've been looking for someone like him, but to no avail. Then I found your ad, and my hopes are up once more.

As you can probably see from the pictures, I have Asian blood. In fact, I am half French, half Japanese. From your perspective, as a master, I think that's probably the best of two worlds. I combine in one person the liberal sexual attitudes of the French with the submissive nature of Asian women. I hope you will give me the chance me to show you what that means.

Yours sincerely,

Maki

***

The letter and the two photo's Maki had included intrigued him. The photo's, one from the chest up and one which showed her head to toe, wearing pants and a blouse, showed an extraordinarily beautiful young woman with waving black hair and dark, almond shaped eyes. She had delicate oriental features, but with a European touch which gave her face an extra dimension: high cheekbones, a more pronounced jawline, big eyes, a sensuous mouth with perfect teeth and lips just a bit fuller than most Japanese women. Near perfect facial symmetry completed the picture. This was supermodel territory. As far as he could tell, she had a very good body too, although the clothes didn't reveal much.

First he had dismissed her letter as a hoax. She looked too good to be true. Being a banker he knew that if something looked too good to be true, it probably was. But he kept returning to it. Short as it was, the letter seemed to be full of hidden messages. And her mysterious dark brown eyes were somehow beckoning him. In the end he decided he had nothing to loose. He'd take the chance, if it was a joke he would simply move on to the next girl on the list.

She did respond to his email and picked up the phone when he called her. So far so good; maybe not a joke after all, he thought. They made the same appointment as he had done the week before with Julie.

He heard her arrive at the cafe in the park before he saw her. Not because she was loud. On the contrary, it was the sudden lack of background noise that caught his attention. He looked up, and noticed that everybody on the terrace had stopped talking momentarily, watching Maki make her way to her table. They all seemed mesmerized, hypnotized even, and when she entered his line of vision he understood why. He had never seen anyone like this before. This woman was beyond beautiful. She radiated pure elegance and class, her beauty understated but impossible to ignore. She wore a simple, yellow summer dress, rather tight at the top but wider from her hips down to just above her knees, her bare shoulders caressed by her black hair. Elegant matching sandals with heels just high enough to accentuate her perfectly shaped calves. He looked around him. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. People studied her as if she were a priceless work of art. Most of the men were looking at her with an expression of desire, admiration and resignation, an expression that said: “you are incredibly beautiful but so completely out of my league I cannot even begin to imagine what it would be like to be with you.” They would not be able to have a sexual fantasy about this girl. It was beyond their imagination. There was fascination, not jealousy, in the eyes of the women. Except one, an elegantly dressed middle aged woman who was almost drooling with lust. Maki seemed oblivious of the stares, found a table and ordered mint tea. The customers of the cafe in the park shook off the enchantment and carried on with their conversation. The whole scene had lasted maybe ten seconds.

He joined her at her table and they talked. Maki also agreed to go to his place. When both of them were comfortably seated on the couch with another cup of tea, she listened intently to his instructions and replied: “If it's OK with you, I would like to tell you my story, which I think will answer many of your questions.”

“Go ahead,” he replied.

She shifted her body a little and started talking.

“As I wrote in my letter, I am half French, half Japanese. When he was 28 my father was sent to Japan by his company, a large French technology firm, to set up a joint venture with a Japanese company. That Japanese company was owned by my grandfather. My father didn't speak a word of Japanese, so my grandfather asked his daughter to translate and help him find his way around. She was 18 and had just graduated from highschool where she had learned some French. The inevitable happened of course, they fell in love and got married. A year and a half later I was born.

“The age distribution within the Japanese side of my family is very unusual. There is, or was I should say, a ten year gap between all its members. So when I was born, my grandfather was 50, my grandmother 40, my father 30, my mother 20 and my uncle Hiro - my mother's brother, was 10 years old. The first few years of my life we lived in Japan, in a nice house close to my grandparents. Then my father was sent to another country, and that became the usual pattern for us. On average we moved every three years. Before I graduated from highschool we had lived in Japan, Hong Kong, the Philippines, France, the US and Korea. My mother agreed to all of this, following my father around the world, on one condition: every year during the summer holiday she and I would go back to Japan for exactly one month for a family visit. My father would sometimes join us for a week or so, but usually it would be just the two of us – I have no brothers or sisters.

“Right from when I was born, I was the apple of my uncle Hiro's eye. He would spend endless hours entertaining me when I was little. The feeling was mutual, true to the English pronounciation of his name he was my hero. When I got a little older, and he as a teenager was old enough to go out on his own, he would take me to playgrounds, swimming pools, shops, the beach, cinema's. He wasn't the heir my grandfather had hoped for though. During his teenage years he got into trouble more and more often, had bad grades at school, and became involved with gangs. He quit school when he was 16 and moved into his own flat soon afterwards. My grandparents and my mother never quite figured out what he was up to, but it was pretty clear he was leading a life of crime and soon had a leading position in some gang or the other. Nobody in my family ever talked about it though. I think my grandparents simply pretended he had a job. He still visited their house, albeit infrequently, and my grandparents still loved him no matter what. During our summer visits he would be back at the house more often to spend time with us and even sleep in his old room.

“As I got older, my fascination and admiration for Hiro got even bigger. By the time I was 16, I had developed a full blown teenage crush on him. He would still take me out to pools and cinema's and so on, and I tried to flirt with him as much as possible. By now he was 26, handsome, strong and muscled, and in possession of some gang tattoos. He drove a flashy, expensive sportscar. My mother disapproved of him, rightly guessing he was a gang leader, but I didn't mind. I thought he was cool, and in fact I kind of liked the fact that people seemed to be afraid of him. Unfortunately he didn't really respond to my flirting. He did take me to movies my parents would never allow me to see, however, movies with sex and violence, and take me to expensive bars where he would let me have wine or champagne. I felt he treated me like a grown-up, like a woman.

“The following summer I decided I was going to step up my attempts to impress him. I bought the skimpiest white bikini I could find and some other clothes I considered sexy. That year, we went to the pool a couple of times and even though I felt self conscious I tried to show him as much of my body as I could, leaning over him to pick up an apple, or trying to drink suggestively from a bottle of water. He never said anything, but I could feel his eyes exploring my body. Nothing happened, but I felt that I had achieved something nonetheless.

“Then, the night before my mother and I were to go home again, he came to my room to say goodbye. My grandparents were rich and had a big house, and as soon as I was old enough (I was 7 or 8 I think), I had claimed a large bedroom at the end of a long hallway on the second floor, far away from all the others. I noticed he carefully closed the door behind him when he came in. He walked up to me, put his arms around me and hugged me tight. I was trembling a little, he'd never been this close to me. I felt his hard muscles against my body. I was praying it wouldn't stop. Then he leaned back a bit, looked at me and completely out of the blue kissed me. Not just a little peck on my cheek, but full on my lips, his tongue in my mouth, the whole works. He took me completely by surprise. I even tried to turn my head in a first, instinctive reaction. Luckily he was holding my head in his strong hands so I couldn't move it anywhere. I quickly realized my mistake, and started to kiss him back with the passion and clumsiness of an inexperienced 17 year old. I think I even pushed my hips forward. My hands were darting along his back, my tongue finding his tongue, our lips and mouths pushing hard. I felt like I had died and arrived in paradise. The whole thing can't have lasted more than 20 seconds, but in my mind it was a kiss that lasted for hours. He stopped as abruptly as he had started. He said he'd see me next year, and told me to be a good girl in the meantime. No boys! Then he disappeared, walked out of the room without looking back, leaving me behind in a state of total confusion. I had no idea what just happened, and during the following weeks there were even moments when I thought I had made it all up.

“The eleven months until our next trip seemed to last a lifetime. Time crawled by ever so slowly, day after tedious day. I couldn't think of anything but him. I went through the motions at school, passing with decent grades but I was never really interested. I became quite moody and withdrawn, I wasn't very nice to my mother that year. She thought it was puberty. No boys, he had said, and I obeyed. Plenty of boys tried their luck, but I didn't allow any of them to even come near me. In my head I invented a thousand scenario's of what would happen next summer. And every evening before going to sleep I thought of Hiro and furiously fingered myself to orgasm.

“Finally it was the 1st of July again, the day we always travelled. I couldn't sleep on the plane, in spite of flying business class. I was far too excited. When the taxi arrived at my grandparents I expected him to stand there waiting, and imagined jumping into his arms, hugging him and whispering filthy things in his ears. But he wasn't there. In fact, my grandmother hadn't seen him for weeks. I don't think I've ever been so disappointed in my life. I couldn't hide it either. After such a long year of waiting and waiting, he didn't even bother to show up! I could see my mother and grandmother exchange meaningful looks, not knowing what to do or say to make me feel better. I feigned jetlag and went to bed early. I cried myself to a restless sleep.

“I was dreaming of him (who else!) when a hand covering my mouth woke me up. I noticed a body against mine. I was lying on my side and somebody had sneaked in under the sheets and was lying behind me. First I thought it was still my dream. I tried to say something but couldn't because of the hand over my mouth. Then I heard his voice: “Shhhh, don't speak. Don't say a word, don't make a single sound. Nothing. If you do, I will stop and immediately, disappear and never come back. Do you understand?”, he whispered in my ear. I nodded slowly, half awake and still not sure if this was real or not. Then, with his other hand, keeping the first hand over my mouth just to be sure, he began to caress my body. He started at my knees and slowly moved his hand up my thighs. I was wearing just a long t-shirt, without underwear. He pulled me closer to him by my hips. I could suddenly feel his erection, and only now realized that all he was wearing were his boxer shorts. His hand moved underneath my t-shirt now, along my side, up and down my belly, until he found my breasts. He started massaging and squeezing them, finding my nipples, pinching and pulling and turning them between his fingers. It sent shivers down my spine. I pushed my body against his, his muscular chest against my back, my ass against his cock. Next he peeled down his boxer shorts. He pushed his cock between my legs, trying to find my pussy. I pulled up my leg to make it easier, and suddenly I felt the tip of his cock finding its way in. Just an inch or so. I was paralyzed, I just couldn't move. I really wanted this, but didn't know what to do next. I was soaking wet. Then he pushed a little further, the tip of his cock now touching my hymen. He pulled out a little, and back in again. And again. He was teasing me, getting me hotter and hornier by the second. Then the hand over my mouth tightened its grip, and he pushed his cock all the way into my pussy. I could feel my hymen tear. I screamed in his hand. My back arched. It hurt terribly and felt wonderful at the same time. My head was spinning from the pain and the pleasure. The pain being the pleasure, they blurred to become the same thing; and pleasure a word wholly inadequate to describe what I felt, what was going through my body. I had an earth shattering orgasm moments after losing my virginity.

“When my orgasm subsided, he started to fuck me. It was still a bit painful, but within minutes I came again. He did as well after a while, with stifled groans, his free hand roughly grabbing my tits, ramming his cock inside me as hard as he could, squirting into the condom he had been wearing since he had come into my room. All this time his one hand had covered my mouth. Finally he slowly let go, telling me to still not speak a word. He said: “If you want, I will come back same time tomorrrow night, and every night for as long as you are here this month. You can leave the door unlocked. If you don't want me to come back, just lock the door to your bedroom tomorrow night. If I find it locked, I won't come back.” He reached behind him for a towel with which he whiped the blood from between my legs after pulling out his cock. He slid off the bed, and without making a single sound he was gone all of a sudden (later I thought he must have been very good at breaking and entering houses, he moved like a ghost!).

For the second time in a year he left me behind in total confusion, wondering if it wasn't all a dream. But it wasn't, my whole body was alight, tingling, and I could still feel him inside my pussy, together with the lingering pain of losing my virginity. I couldn't sleep anymore, rewinding the film - and masturbating to it -  over and over again. Only at dawn I fell asleep, exhausted and exhilarated.

“When I got up the next morning he was gone. My mother told me I had just missed him, and I had to pretend to be even more disappointed than the night before. She assured me he'd be back for dinner. The day passed in a blur. I was in another world but blamed it on jetlag while my mother and grandmother thought it was because I hadn't seen Hiro yet. When he walked in late that afternoon we did a little act with both our mothers as audience, pretending to see each other for the first time.

“Of course I didn't lock my door that night. He slipped into the room at exactly 2 AM. Again I didn't notice him until he was right beside me, despite being wide awake this time. I wanted to say something but he stopped me, this time just his finger against my lips was sufficient. “No speaking,” he said softly. “I will teach you everything there is to know, but you will learn by doing, not by talking. Be obedient, like a good Japanese girl.”

“OK,” I whispered.

Then he kissed me. First on my lips, and just like the year before I kissed him back furiously. Then he kissed my earlobes, my neck, he pulled my t-shirt over my head and kissed my breasts, sucked my nipples, and finally he went down, planting kisses on my stomach until he reached my pussy. I spread my legs for him. He kissed me there, but only with his lips, not his tongue. Then he came up again, slid his cock in my pussy, pushed himself up on his arms and started slowfucking me, all the time looking into my eyes. I stared back, there was just enough light to see all the muscles on his chest and arms. I reached out to touch him, to feel his hard body. I wrapped my legs around him. He fucked me like this for half an hour or so, very, very slowly working both of us to a climax. After he came, he laid down on top of me, crushing me with his hard and heavy body, his cock still inside me. I had my arms and legs around him and wanted to stay like that forever. I was the happiest girl in the world. At 3 PM he got up and left, once again in a flash; one moment he was there, the next he was gone.

“He came to visit me every single night that month. First he took me through a whole range of different positions, fucking me on my hands and knees, me on top, standing against the wall, bending over, arching backwards standing on my hands (all those years of ballet and dance classes payed off there), lifting me up and walking around the room while fucking me, and so on. After about a week, I told him I had my period. Not a problem, he said. He sat down on the side of the bed, put me on my knees in front of him, and told me to suck his cock. He whispered instructions as I went along. I didn't have a clue what to do, so I did everything exactly as he said, licking, nibbling, kissing, sucking wherever he told me to. Being Japanese, his cock wasn't all that long, but it was quite thick, making it still difficult to get it into my mouth. I had to stretch it wide open to suck him. The first night he allowed me some slack, not quite doing it right, but the next night he didn't let me get away with any mistakes anymore. When I didn't manage to take his cock all the way into my mouth, he held my head with both hands and pushed it down. His thick cock stretched my mouth wide open. He pushed it all the way in and held it there until I started to choke. His pubic hair tickled my nose. He let go for a second to let me catch my breath, then pushed me down again. He kept doing that until he came in my throat, spraying hot cum in the back of mouth. When I was finished swallowing and coughing, he told me to lick the rest of his sperm from his cock and swallow it. He liked that so much that he mouthfucked me again right away, this time holding my head still and pushing his cock in and out of my mouth, his cock staying hard all the time, coming all over me for a second time. This time a lot of it landed on my face. He made me drink all of it. After he left that night, I lay awake for a long time. It was the first night I hadn't had an orgasm myself. And yet I felt really good, maybe even better than the nights before. He obviously liked his blowjobs very much, and I was very proud and pleased with myself that I had made him come twice. I decided his pleasure was more important than mine. 

“From that night onward, we started with a blowjob every time. He continued to give me instructions until I got it right. The following night he brought some massage oil. After I had sucked him for some time, he turned me over on my stomach and started to massage my back, really nicely. But soon I found out why he had really taken the oil. He pulled down my panties half way down my hips and lifted up my ass a little. Then I felt the tip of his cock against my asshole. I moaned a complaint and pushed my hips down. He roughly pulled them up again and hissed in my ear, telling me to behave. I was scared, I couldn't imagine his thick cock in there, afraid it would hurt. He massaged some oil on my opening and on his cock and started pushing. It did hurt of course, all the more because I didn't open up to him. My mind wanted to please him and accept his cock, but my body instinctively resisted. It took him forever to get in, or so it seemed at least. Finally he broke through, and when the head was in the rest of his cock followed as well. The pain was excruciating, as if he was ripping me apart. Tears were running down my cheeks, but I tried not to make any sounds. He didn't give me any time to recover, but started fucking me in my ass right away. It was rough and painful. When he took my virginity the week before, the pain subsided after a while. This time it stayed. I moaned into my pillow with every hard push of his loins. I could feel it when he was about to come, his cock throbbing and swelling up even more, and for the first time I had the sensation of feeling his cum inside me. And then, much to my own surprise and in spite of the pain and him not having touched my pussy in any way, I came as well. I had no idea where that orgasm came from, something must have triggered it but I didn't have a clue what it was. I heard him chuckle behind me. I wondered why. Was he mocking me? Now I know, of course. Hiro immediately understood why I had an orgasm. It was the pain and the humiliation. And he liked that, he liked that very much. That's why he chuckled. It took me much longer to figure it out.

“As long as I had my period he focussed on training my mouth and asshole. I use the word training because that's how I percieved it. Not that I minded. On the contrary, I couldn't have been happier. Every night I was having sex with the man I had admired and longed for all my life. All I wanted was to prove him worthy, to make him happy. It was the best holiday ever, and I was in a joyous mood. The days passed as in previous years, spending time with my grandmother and uncle (my mother always used to do her own thing during our holidays in Japan, I was never quite sure where she hung out). So it was shopping (my gran spoiling me), beaches, cinema's, pools all over again. I had to watch myself when Hiro was around, make sure not to behave too much like the desperately in love teenager that I was. That was perhaps the hardest part, not being able to show the world the reason of my happiness.

“After my period finished he stepped things up a notch. He tied me to the bed one night, arms and legs spread. For the first time, he gave me oral sex. I thought by now I had experienced just about everything with regard to sex, but this took it to a whole new level. My whole body convulsed when I came, and I think I lost consciousness for a moment. He continued the bondage for about a week, each night tying me up in different positions, some of them rather uncomfortable. But I never said anything, let alone complain. The thought that I might annoy him and he might end it petrified me, so he could do with me whatever he wanted. He knew that, of course. He was in complete control. Plus I liked the discomfort, I liked it a lot.

“The night before my mother and I were to leave, we fucked like there was no tomorrow. It was as wild and passionate as we dared in a house where both our mothers were sleeping as well. Before

he left, he told me again to be a good girl; no boys. He could have left that out, I had no inclination whatsoever. And he instructed me to be on the pill when I returned next year. No more messing around with condoms.

“The following eleven months seemed to take a lifetime again. I dutifully concentrated on my highschool exams, passing with high marks. Other than that I didn't do much. I became a bit of a nerd, a loner, didn't have many friends and hardly went out. I completely ignored the boys, despite their many attempts to get my attention. Behind my back they called me frigid and arrogant. Frigid? Ha, if only they knew! All I could think of was Hiro. I fantasized about all the things that could possibly happen next summer, came up with another thousand scenario's. I even thought about eloping with him.

“This time when my mother and I arrived at the house he was there. It was one big happy family reunion, everybody was cheerful and chatting and laughing. Even my grandfather, who was always working, was there and joined the fun. When he found a moment to speak to me in private, Hiro said he would not come to my room that night, but he promised he would more than make it up to me the following day. I was disapppointed of course, but also curious and excited about his promise. The next day he told my mother he would take me shopping and to the movies. He said we would be away all day. But we passed the shopping centre and the cinema and drove straight to his apartment. I had never been there before. We went up to the 45th floor, to a beautiful penthouse, with 4 or 5 bedrooms and a huge living with a view of the whole city. It must have been outrageously expensive. I didn't get much time to admire it that first time though. As soon as we were in, he started ripping the clothes of my body and I did the same to him. We never made it to any of the bedrooms either. He took me right there in the living room, on the couch, lying on my back on the dinner table, on the floor, everywhere. Even in the kitchen. It was the first time I could make some noise, now that we were not in my grandparents house. I'm not a sceamer or anything, don't worry, but to always hold back was becoming a little bit frustrating the previous year. So finally I could moan and groan and say a few filthy words every now and then. It was passionate, almost carnal. I must have come half a dozen times. At some point I was on my hands and knees on the couch when he started to spank me. He was fucking me slowly, and suddenly his hand landed hard on my ass. I squealed. Then he spanked me again, and again, harder and harder, all the time fucking me slowly and gently, in almost artful contrast with the violent spanking he was giving me. I loved it. It really hurt, my skin was beginning to sting, while at the same time my pussy was all wet and swollen with excitement and I was about to have my next orgasm. Then he stopped, both the fucking and the spanking, and waited. He held his cock inside me but didn't move. I wiggled my ass a little to encourage him to start again. Then, without thinking, I said: “hit me.”

“Say please,” he answered immediately.

I hesitated a moment, then said: “Please!”

His hand landed full force on my ass. The impact was so great I lunged forward, bumping my head against the backrest of the couch, his cock slipping out. I yelled something like “ooohh”. He quickly pulled me back by my hips and pushed his cock back in.

“Again?”, he asked.

“Please,” I said softly, and he hit me again, on the other cheek, even harder this time. I somehow managed to stay in position, keeping him in. More stinging pain. My ass was glowing now. We kept repeating those words. Each time he spanked me, the muscles in my pussy responded, squeezing his cock. I wailed and moaned, had tears in my eyes, but he loved it and so did I. He stopped spanking and started fucking me again, now fast and wild and uncontrolled. We both came at the same time. 

“I went to the bathroom and admired myself in the mirror. My ass was bright red. The sharp stinging had become a more lingering pain. I was happy, but most of all I was proud; proud that I could please this hard, demanding, impressive man. At that moment I decided I would do anything for him. I think subconsciously I realized there was much more to come, and I was mentally preparing myself for that.

“He no longer came to see me at night in my room. Instead, he took me out nearly every day and at least part of our time we'd spend at his apartment. He continued the bondage he had started the year before, and a couple of times made me wear a collar, hooked it to a leash and make me crawl around the flat. I did whatever he asked or told me to do. I also became a little bit involved in his life. I met some of his friends. Or that's how he introduced them, but it was quite clear they were part of his gang. They were body builder types, with bulging muscles and lots of tattoos, not very intelligent but extremely streetwise. Wherever they went, they intimidated people just by being there. Hiro was clearly the boss. For every decision, no matter how insignificant, they would look at him for the final go. I met a few of their girlfriends as well, all very young and very pretty, but quiet and submissive, even more so than most Japanese women. Arm candy. Fucktoys.

“One Friday he asked my mother if he could take me to a club that night. She hesitated, then said yes but told him I should be home by 1 AM. He laughed. “That's when it opens!”, he said. They negotiated and agreed he'd have me home by three. I had never been to a club before so had no idea what to expect. I put on the most sexy outfit I dared to show my mother; tight jeans and a see through blouse with a black bra. She didn't look too happy but said nothing as we walked out the door at about 9PM. We went to his apartment, where much to my surprise some of his friends had already gathered. It was the usual crew with their girlfriends. One woman I hadn't seen before. She was a little older, early to mid thirties I guess, very tall for Japanese standards, and very thin. She wore some gothic outfit, all black leather and shiny metal. She looked like a witch. I found her scary. She must have been important one way or the other, because they all treated her with care and respect, even my uncle although it was clear he had equal status. When my uncle introduced me, she looked me up and down like a lioness checking out a young antelope. She gave me a cold smile, and said to my uncle: “You were right.” That was all, no further explanation.

“After a while Hiro told me to go to one of the bedrooms with the woman. She would help me change into something more appropriate for the club we were going to. He also ordered me to do whatever she told me, follow every instruction. He said he would be very disapppointed if I wouldn't. She took my hand, smiled that cold smile again and said with a smoky voice: “Come my dear, let's get you ready for tonight.” In the bedroom she told me to undress. I hesitated, but she gave me a piercing look and I remembered my uncle's instruction. So I undressed to my underwear, and stood and waited. She made an impatient gesture with her hand to indicate that my bra and panties should come off too. I did, rather timidly I suppose. She had draped herself on the bed by now. She actually licked her lips. With a long, bony finger she beckoned me to come to her. I was sort of hypnotized by that finger, with blood red nailpolish on her sharp, long nails. I kept my eyes on it all the time, losing whatever free will I had left. As I crawled onto the bed she patted on the matress next to her. She was lying on her side, resting on one elbow. I took up the same position, facing her. Her hands began to explore my body,  “Such a pretty girl,” she said. She leaned over, her face inching close to mine, and kissed me. First she gave me a gentle kiss on my lips, then from one moment to the next she opened her mouth and French kissed me, hard and aggressive. I was as surprised as when Hiro kissed me the first time, and didn't respond at first. She pulled her head back a little, looked at me with venom, and hissed: ”Kiss me back you little slut, or you'll regret it.” She kissed me again and I obeyed, too scared to make her or my uncle angry. I was afraid and aroused at the same time. She traced her fingernails down my back, which felt nice, then between my legs up over my belly to my breasts. She did that trick a few times, each time her sharp nails scratched my skin a little harder. She traced my tits, up and down with those red nails, from the top of my breasts to my nipples. Then she dug her sharp nails deep into the flesh of my breast. I squealed. She purred: “Oh, did that hurt?” She didn't wait for an answer. “Poor you,” she said, and did it again. Tears sprang in my eyes, I asked her to stop. “Stop?” she said, “And we're having so much fun!” With those words she dug her nails into my nipple and I wailed again. Then she kissed me gently on my lips again and whispered: ”I'll stop if you eat my pussy.” I couldn't speak, but when she tilted her head a little with a question mark on her face, I answered: “OK.”

“Such a good girl!”, she said, and yanked me by down my hair and pushed my face between her legs. She wore a leather miniskirt over fishnet stockings and a g-string. I moved the g-string aside and started to kiss her there. She pushed her pussy against my mouth and began to move her hips up and down. “Give me some tongue, little slut,” she said. I tried to lick her but for long couldn't find the right spot, until she finally held still for a moment. I found her clit and started sucking it. She was lying on her back now, legs spread wide, still holding me by my hair. Her cunt was soaking wet. She wrapped her legs around my head and pushed my face into her wet pussy. It felt like drowning. I kept trying to find the right spots with my tongue. Then she flipped me over on my back, as if we were wrestling, and she sat on my face. I could hardly breathe. She was riding my face, holding my head still with both hands. When she came, she screamed in a high pitched voice, her hips bucking wildly, her juices flowing all over my face still buried between her legs. She stayed like that for a long time, savouring the moment I suppose. Finally she reached behind her, her hand found my pussy and opened it. I was very wet of curse, I just couldn't help myself. It pleased her immensely. She chuckled: “You really ARE a horny little slut, aren't you sweety?” Even if I had wanted to answer, I couldn't with my face still locked between her thighs. Then she dug her nails into my labia and I screamed again, but hardly any sound came out because her pussy still covered my mouth.

“When she let go, she ordered me to get dressed, pointing at a very small pile of clothes. All that was there were a g-string, a tiny miniskirt, low on my hips and barely covering my ass, fishnet stockings and a top which ended above my navel and was very tight on my ribs, like a corset, pushing up my breasts but covering them only half with thin cotton and lace, showing my nipples through the fabric and giving me a cleavage I wasn't aware I had.  Everything was black of course. I wanted to put my own shoes back on but she said “No, not those” and pointed at a pair on the floor. They were similar to what she was wearing herself, with 6 inch stiletto heels. I put them on and stood a little unsteadily on my feet, making me feel like that young antelope again. She got up from the bed and picked up the last item from the side table. It was a dog collar, black leather, about half an inch wide. It was tight around my neck, but to my surprise it felt quite comfortable. She didn't allow me to clean up my face, saying she wanted me to smell and taste her juices for the rest of the evening. She attached a leash to the collar and walked me back to the living room, two steps behind her. All eyes were upon me as we walked in. My uncle was looking at me with pride - or so I thought; his friends with lust in their eyes. I felt naked and insecure. She led me to Hiro and handed him the leash. She whispered something in his ear and they both laughed, not letting me in on the joke but I was pretty sure it was about me.

“We arrived at the club just before midnight. There was a long cue outside, but we simply walked past it and with a respectful nod to my uncle the bouncer let us in. Hiro later explained that he owned a share of the club. I thought the club was quite big, but what did I know. Our table was a little elevated and to the side so we could see the crowd on the dancefloor. It was packed. I noticed there were two types of men in the club. A minority seemed to be men like my uncle, gangsters, varying in age from 25 to about 50. The rest of the men were young, handsome and had paid a small fortune to get in. The women were all young (I think skinny bitch - that's how I called her in my head, I never found out her real name - must have been the oldest), beautiful and were wearing as little or less than I did, which reassured me a bit. Entrance for women was free, my uncle explained, but there was a strict door policy to only let in the most beautiful girls. Everybody drank cocktails, champagne, or very expensive wine or whisky. Pills were being popped quite openly. The crowd were dancing to a loud techno beat, lots and lots of sexy bodies twirling and grinding. Hanging from the roof above the dancefloor, about 5 ft over the heads over the dancing crowd, were three cages with perspex floors. Three beautiful girls, wearing even less than most others, were dancing in those cages. Three other barely dressed girls were dancing on cubes about 3 ft high, located at different parts of the dancefloor. They were whipping up the crowd. It was decadent and hedonistic. I had never seen anything like it, and found it incredibly exciting and sexy.

“Several men, all of them from the gangster category, came over to pay respect to my uncle. Among them a man who was seriously overweight, yet well dressed and in fact rather elegant. He was one of those people who can be obese and somehow still make it look good. He wore a huge, purple silk shirt over black pants. I couldn't guess his age, anywhere between 30 and 50. Later I found out he owned the club. My uncle talked to him for quite a while, all serious and business like. Then he gestured for me to come over.

“My friend Katsu was wondering if you would like to dance,” he said.

“With him?”, I answered before I realized how rude and stupid that sounded.

They both roared with laughter. “No, not with him.” my uncle answered after he had caught his breath again. “For him! In fact, never mind answering, it's not a question really. Dance for us, let's see how good you are.”

They both sat down on the low couch and looked up at me. “Go on,” my uncle said, “what are you waiting for?”

So I danced in front of these two men. I'm actually not a bad dancer, having had ballet and modern dance training since I was 4. I was self conscious of course, but the general atmosphere in the club helped and I tried to make it as sexy as possible. I felt cheap and admired at the same time. Katsu seemed to be satisfied, because after a minute or so he told me to stop. He then looked at my uncle who said, with an indifferent gesture: “She's all yours.” I remember just standing there, feeling silly and a bit scared, wondering what that meant, she's all yours. But Hiro looked me in the eyes and without saying anything he made christal clear what it meant. Next Katsu pulled out a stiletto which he opened with a sharp click. He reached out to my legs. I was scared all of a sudden. I tried to step back but holding the back of my knees he pulled me toward him. He wasn't going to cut me, was he? He moved both his hands, one with the knife, up my legs and underneath my tiny miniskirt. His big fleshy hands held my firm ass and squeezed a little. He hummed approvingly. Then suddenly he cut my g-string with a fast zigzag move of the knife. He had it in his hands before I realized what had happened. I was trembling on my feet, still spooked by the stiletto, looking pleadingly at my uncle who didn't give me any sign of reassurance. Now I felt really naked.

My uncle seemed quite entertained by all this. He laughed and said: “Go with Katsu and do everything he tells you. He'll bring you back here when he's done with you.” Skinny bitch (always prepared to humiliate me a bit more, it seemed) handed Katsu the leash, which he clipped to my collar again. Without any further warning he walked away. I nearly tripped when the leash pulled my neck, and he forced me to follow him through the crowd quickly. I glanced back and saw skinny bitch move over to sit close to my uncle, her bony hand on his inner thigh. She knew exactly what was my vulnerability: Hiro. She smiled her cold smile at me and mouthed “have fun!”

“Katsu darted through the dancing crowd, very light on his feet for such a big man. I was following as closely as I could, stumbling a few times. People were staring at us, but this was the kind of club where you'd see things like this, so they didn't really seem all that surprised. Just curious. He went for one of the cubes. When we got there I realized: he wants me to get up on the cube and dance! He gestured the girl who was up on the cube to beat it. He looked at me and smiled: “You know what to do, don't you?”

“I guess so,“ I answered. 

Only at that moment it dawned on me that without any underwear, people looking up would look straight at my pussy. That's why he had cut my g-string! He wasn't quite finished preparing me though. Somebody handed him a bottle of champagne. He shook the bottle and opened it with a loud pop, spraying the champagne over my body and face. I was soaking wet, the bubbly fluid making my top stick to my skin. My nipples, hard from the cold champagne, were now clearly visible through my top, which was the whole idea of course. There was still some champagne left in the bottle, so he closed it with his thumb and shook it vigorously, then held it between my legs and let go of his thumb. The last champagne sprayed right at my naked, shaven pussy. He smiled and looked very pleased with himself. He leaned towards me and licked some champagne off my chest, just above my tits. Then he patted my ass lightly and said: “Get up there and dance for all the nice people. Make it 200% sexy. Turn on the crowd. Make them horny. Make them feel like they all want to fuck you tonight, men and women. Make them think that perhaps they even CAN fuck you tonight, with a little luck. Keep dancing until I come for you.”

“He put both his hands just above my hips and without any effort lifted me onto the cube. For a second I just stood there, not knowing what to do. Then I started to dance. First a bit shy and slow, but soon I adjusted to the music. I swayed my hips, put my hands up in the air, pushed my tits out and found the rhythm of the techno beat that was still booming from the speakers. Katsu watched me for few minutes before he walked away. I could almost feel his stare on my bouncing wet tits and up my miniskirt, champagne still running down my legs.  While he was still there I taunted him a little, shaking my ass in front of him, going through my knees a bit making sure he had full view of my pussy. I continued to do that after he'd gone, trying to dance as erotically as I could for hundreds of men and women. Some of them were standing or dancing very close to the cube, peering straight up. I remember thinking they can see everything, they can look inside me, right inside my pussy. A lot of them looked indeed as if they wanted to fuck me right there and then. By then I had thrown off all my inhibitions. I felt like the sluttiest bitch on earth and it felt great. Dancing non-stop, my hands were moving all over my body now, caressing my tits and sliding between my legs. I went into a sort of trance. It went on and on, moving my body, grinding my hips, driven on by the monotonous techno beat that was so loud I could actually feel it vibrate in my pussy.

“I have no idea how long I danced, it could have been ten minutes or two hours, but suddenly Katsu was back. He helped me down, holding me by my waist again. I was soaking wet with sticky champagne and sweat. He clipped the leash on my collar once more and walked me across the dancefloor. We didn't go back to Hiro's table though. We went through a hidden door which led into a long hallway. There were a series of doors on both sides. We walked slowly now; he did that on purpose I think so I could catch a glimpse through the open doors. In the first room, two men were fucking a girl who was on her hands and knees. One guy was taking her from behind, the other just pushed his cock in her mouth as we were walking past. In the next room, it was the other way around; two gorgeous girls pleasuring an older man. One girl was riding his cock, while the other kissed him. In the third room a girl was hanging by her arms from the ceiling, her feet a few inches above the floor. A very well dressed man in a suit was standing behind her, a long whip in his hand. I didn't see him whipping the girl, but after we had passed I heard a loud crack and a scream. Katsu opened the next door and led me into a room with no furniture at all, except for a futon matress. 

“You danced very well,” he said as he closed the door. “As a reward I am going to fuck you.”

I looked at him a bit puzzled, I suppose.

“That sounds more arrogant than it is,” he continued. “I know you want it, desperately. I watched you dance from a distance. You enjoyed having all these men watching you, didn't you, all those guys fucking you with their eyes. And some of the women. You were practically fucking yourself up there. I know you really need a cock right now. Am I right?”

Of course he was. I was hornier than I had ever been before. He didn't need an answer anyway, he was going to fuck me no matter what I said. He pushed aside the bra part of my top and took out my tits. My nipples were still hard. Out of nowhere he suddenly held the stiletto in his hand again. He held it with the sharp end against my neck, exposing it by pulling my head back by my wet hair. He slowly moved the knife down my throat and chest, heading for my tits. I was holding very still, looking down at the knife with big eyes, scared he would cut me, this massive, powerful man whom I had never met before. He intimidated me, but I also thought he wouldn't really hurt me with my uncle around. And the intimidation aroused me even more. He was now scraping the skin of my left breast, touching my nipple with the point of the knife, pressing a little, denting the skin. He was close to drawing blood, then stopped. Instead he cut away my top, quicker than the eye can see.

He threw my torn-up top into a corner and pushed me down on my hands and knees, took the leash and pulled me toward the futon. I had to crawl on all fours to follow him, wearing nothing but my tiny miniskirt, stockings and high heels. He kneeled behind me on the futon, opened his pants and pushed the miniskirt up around my waist. He grabbed the leash, held it tight and unceremoniously rammed his cock inside me. He pushed his hips forward and with the leash he pulled me toward him, his cock going all the way in. He held me there for a while, the collar tightening around my throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. Then he let go so I swayed forward a little, pushed out by his big belly, away from his cock until just the tip was inside the entrance of my pussy. Then he pulled the leash again. My hips moved against his loins, his cock deep inside me. He fucked me like this for a long time, using the leash to pull me toward him and his belly to push me away. At first it was a gentle sway, back and forth, in and out, as if we were on a swing in a playground. Then he began to pull a bit harder, choking me a little more each time. At one point he didn't let go but held me against him and increased the pressure on the leash even more, trying to push his cock even deeper into my pussy. He held the leash really tight, pulling hard. I was seriously choking now. I couldn't breathe at all, and was beginning to panick a little. I squeezed my pussy muscles around his cock, hoping to please him so he would let go. But he didn't. I began to see double. Just as I thought I was going to pass out, he let go. I gasped for air like a diver reaching the water surface just in time. He gave me a moment to recover, all the time making sure the tip of his cock stayed inside me. Then he resumed, gently pulling me back on his shaft again. Soon the pulls became sharper however. He pulled me back with more force, my ass slapping against his hips. I tried to move my body in his rhythm. Each time he let go gently and slowly, waited a few seconds, then pulled the leash hard and sharp. When he was about to come, he increased the tempo. He hardly gave me time to catch my breath after each pull of the leash any more; and once more I was beginning to feel light in my head for lack of oxygen. He pulled the leash and pushed his hips forward simultaneously, every time a bit harder and faster. Then he came, holding me tight against him, pulling he leash with one hand and my hair with the other, forcing my head back so much I was looking at the ceiling, his cock deep inside me ejaculating loads and loads of hot cum in my pussy. Needless to say I came as well. I almost fainted from the orgasm and the lack of air.

“Katsu delivered me back to my uncle topless. All I was wearing were my high heels, the fishnets and the miniskirt, and the collar by which he was pulling me throught the crowd again. It seemed as if hours had passed. Hiro and his friends were quite drunk by now; although he was handling it better than the rest of his gang. The alcohol had been flowing freely. One of the girlfriends was lying naked on her back on the low table around which all of them were sitting. They were using her as a serving tray. She was covered in sushi which they picked up with chopsticks and dipped in soy sauce, which was in a small, shallow saucer placed over her pussy. A different sauce had been poured  into her navel. She was lying very still. Every now and them one of the guys fed her a sushi. One of them, not her boyfriend, had just poured some champagne over her small breasts and started to suck it off, biting her nipples while he was at it. As we arrived at the table, Hiro looked at me and said to Katsu: “So we're good.” The big man nodded and replied: “We're good.” Only days later, when I replayed that night in my head, I suddenly realized Hiro had used me to pay off some debt to Katsu.

***

“Giving me away became a pattern. After skinny bitch and Katsu quite a number of other men followed. No more women. In a way he was prostituting me, in exchange for favours or to settle debts. Never for money. That's to say, as far as I know no cash was ever paid. We never talked about this but it became pretty clear to me that's what he was doing. Sometimes he gave me away just for the heck of it, for his own entertainment, like when we went to a crappy sex cinema in a really seedy part of town. There were about half a dozen men scattered around the cinema, slightly creepy guys watching some hardcore porn movie. The place had a sweet, stale smell. On the big screen a blonde woman with enormous silicone tits was taking three cocks at once. Hiro and I sat down right next to one of the guys, me in the middle between the two men. The guy looked surprised, not quite sure what to think. People tend to take seats as far away as possible from others in places like this. He was at least fifty, maybe older, and looked scruffy with a three day beard and clothes that had seen better days. Hiro had dressed me up in a school uniform (Japanese men love girls in school uniforms), the sexy version: a short blue skirt and a white see-through blouse. We watched the movie for a minute. Then Hiro whispered, without taking his eyes off the screen: “Put your hand on his crotch.” I turned my head and looked at him in mock surprise: I was beginning to expect this kind of thing. Then I moved my hand to my left and rested it on the man's dick. It was half erect. I began to massage it softly while watching the movie. The man didn't move a muscle, probably scared of my uncle or afraid I might stop if he did something wrong. His cock was getting hard though. Next Hiro whispered: “Open his zipper and jerk him off.” I dutifully obeyed. I fumbled a bit with my one hand before I managed to open his pants. I put my hand around his cock, moist with precum, and started to jerk him off slowly, his erect cock trembling in my hand. After a minute or two Hiro whispered the next instruction: “Put his hand on your thigh. Let him feel you up.” With my free hand I gently grabbed his right arm and put his hand on my leg. I could sense him holding his breath. In the car on the way to the cinema Hiro had made me take off my panties, so the scruffy man was in for a surprise. Still jerking him off, I opened my legs a bit and with my other hand moved his hand to my pussy. His fingers, expecting cloth, touched my bald pussy lips. With my hand resting on his hand I pushed his fingers between my labia, opening them and finding my wet entrance. He moved his fingers up and down my wet slit. I jerked him off a little faster. His breathing became irregular. No longer needing my hand to guide him, he pushed a finger inside me. Then it was all too much for him. Without any warning, and without any sound, he came. His sticky cum landed on the back of my hand. I didn't know what to do with it. Just sat there, his limp cock still in my hand.  Then Hiro said: “wipe it on your legs.” I let go of his cock and smeared the cum all over my thighs. Immediately, scruffy guy got up and hastily scrambled for the exit.

Next Hiro nodded in the direction of a guy sitting two rows in front of us. “I think he would like some too.”  This one was younger, around thirty, a bit nerdy, wearing thick glasses. He had glanced back a few times to see what had been happening behind him. I got up and walked over to him, acting shy and sexy at the same time, the eyes of the other men still present following me. I smiled at nerdy guy, and he smiled back nervously. I went through the same routine, put my hand on his crotch, opened his pants, jerked him off and let him feel my pussy. He lasted a bit longer, this one. And he knew how to please a woman. He found my clit and massaged it with his thumb. At the same time he was fucking me with two fingers. By the time he ejaculated I was pretty close to orgasm myself. More cum on my hand, and then on my legs. I walked back to Hiro but he pointed at the other men in the cinema. I got the message. I had to do them all. While I worked the room, he just sat back and watched the movie. I gave five more men a handjob and allowed them access to my pussy, with their fingers. The last one made me come. I made no sound but my body was trembling all over. The blonde woman on the screen, or maybe it was another one, was making all the noise for both of us, moaning loudly and pretending to have an orgasm while a black man with a gigantic cock who had just fucked her in the ass came all over her face.

“I was in a permanent state of confusion that month. Hiro had made me his sex slave (even though the word was never used), using and abusing me for his own pleasure and that of other men. Prostituting me. But the more he humiliated me, the more I tried my best to please him. To please him by pleasing other men. When giving me to other men, he could act very indifferently, as if he really didn't give a shit about what would happen to me. Yet I always had the feeling that he was nearby and in control somehow, that the men I had to please were under strict instructions about what they could and could not do to me. Also, apart from all the kinky sex, we continued to have fun like we had always done. In that sense, nothing had changed. So on any given day we could see a movie (he actually liked romantic comedies, believe it or not), eat an icecream, go to some shops, then go back to his apartment where he would tie my hands behind my back, push me down on my knees, slap my face a few times and roughly fuck my throat. Or go to a hotel and hand me over to some random guy who would take me to a room to fuck me. He was Jekyll and Hide. And I loved both sides of him. I was happy when he behaved like the good old fun uncle, but equally or even more happy when he treated me like a whore.

“Many more things happened that summer, but I think it would take all weekend if I had to tell them all. When it was time to leave, he didn't give me the “no boys” lecture. In fact, he didn't say much at all. The month had just passed, and then it ended. I had no idea what it all meant to him. Maybe very little. Maybe I was just a nice distraction for a couple of weeks, kinky because of everything he could do to me and because I was his niece, before he moved on to the next beautiful girl, probably while my mother and I were still on the plane.

Maki took a deep breath, and continued: “Two months after our return home, disaster struck. Hiro got arrested. It wasn't his first arrest, but this time the charges were serious, including involvement in at least two murders. He was looking at many years in jail. Awaiting trial, he was held in a prison with a very bad reputation. Many members of rival gangs were kept there, people Hiro had competed with. People who had scores to settle. Some of them might be in jail because of him. Later my mother said she thought the police had put him there on purpose. Whatever the case may be, he didn't survive. Within a week he was murdered. They found him in the toilets with a knife in his back. We never found out who did it. My mother was sure the authorities knew, but they never really investigated.

“My world collapsed. We went back to Japan for the funeral, but I remember very little. I was in a complete state of shock. The following year I was very depressed. I failed my year in college. Didn't have any friends, never really spoke to anyone. All I could think of was Hiro. It took me very long to climb out of that hole. Our visit to Japan the next summer, followed by the anniversary of his death, was the turning point. It was tough, being confronted with all these memories, but I realized that I couldn't throw my life away. I had to move on. So slowly, very slowly my life returned to more or less normal. I went through college (I did art school, photography). Made some friends. For very long I wasn't interested in men at all. My friends used to tease me, saying I was either asexual or a closet lesbian. In my final year in college I've had two very brief relationships, lasting weeks rather than months. They were nice enough guys, I suppose, but it didn't work out. Maybe because they were nice enough. They couldn't give me what I wanted, and I couldn't tell them what I wanted. I graduated last year, and I've done some work in photography. Even had a small exhibition a while ago. Then a couple of weeks ago I found your ad and, well, here I am.”

She had spoken without interruption. She looked at him with those dark eyes and sat silent, drinking her tea. Michael sat quietly as well, processing her unusual life story. It was not an uncomfortable silence. On the contrary. Japanese people have no problems with long interruptions in a conversation. In fact, over the years it was something he and Maki were going to develop almost into a form of art. They could be silent for long periods of time before continuing a conversation. Sometimes they would have multiple conversations at once, effortlesly moving from one to the other, with long interruptions, like playing simultaneous chess games. These conversations could last for days. She could make a remark relating to something he had said the day before, and he would understand immediately what she meant and continue the discussion as if she had responded to something he had just said.

Finally he said: “That's quite a story, Maki.”

“It's true!”, she responded with a hint of indignance in her voice.

He smiled: “I didn't mean to say I don't believe you. Quite a history then. And it does answer most of my questions.”

They talked some more, before he concluded: “There are two differences between your uncle and me. First I am not a gangster, although in the eyes of some people there isn't such a big difference these days between a banker and a gangster. So that feeling you've had with him, when it somehow felt good being with him while he intimidated people just by his presence, you won't have that with me. Second, he certainly treated you like a slavegirl in many ways that I will too. But I haven't heard you say anything about being whipped.”

She answered: “You're right. He did hurt me physically, but not like that. The bondage could be very painful, and he would spank me often. But no whips, or other tools of pain. I think that would have been on the menu the following year. I often fantasize about it, though. I realize this is something you will do, and I want it. I want it very badly.” Her voice faded. She looked at him with pleading eyes now, willing him with her mind to take the decision to have her as his slavegirl.

He waited a little longer to make her sweat, but his decision had actually been taken long before. No way in the world he was going to let this girl walk away. The fact that she'd never been whipped before was a pro, not a con. She would have no frame of reference, everything would be new to her. He could do whatever he liked. So he gave her the same little speech as the week before with Julie, and told her to get ready.

Her striptease was a bit introverted, not as shameless as Julie had been. Her body slowly emerged from underneath her clothes. And what a body! She was, in a word, flawless. Everything about her was in perfect proportion, with beautiful curves, her shapely legs ending in a small yet round ass, her stomach and back toned without showing muscles, her breasts exactly the right size, nice and round, smaller than Julie's but big enough. Healthy skin. He didn't see a single birthmark. She had shaved her pussy. He couldn't have been more pleased.

There was one more surprise. As her dress slowly fell of her elegant shoulders, a tattoo emerged on the left side of her torso. He couldn't see it very well as it was partly covered by her arm, so he waited until he had tied her up, arms above her head, before having a proper look at it. It was a dragon, green and blue and yellow with a red tongue. It was about twelve inches high. It was the most astonishing, intricately detailed tattoo he had ever seen. The dragon seemed to be alive, as if it could jump off her body at any moment. It's tail coiled from her hip to her lower back, just above her ass. Its body curved and looped alongside her torso. The tip of its tongue licked the side of her left breast. It was a true work of art. He studied it for a very long time; another comfortable silence. She waited patiently. At last he said: “Tell me about the tattoo.”

She answered: “The summer after my uncle died we were back in Japan. I felt the need to do something to shake off my misery. To turn the page. So I went to one of the most famous tattoo artists in Japan with this picture, which I knew my uncle liked very much.  The man grumbled and sent me away, saying tattoos were not for little girls. He almost physically shooed me out of his shop. I came back the next day, and he sent me away again. This went on for about a week. Finally he relented. I had convinced him that I really wanted this. Next he quoted me a fortune, in another attempt to discourage me. I didn't blink an eye and payed upfront. It took him three full days to put the tattoo. The pain was excruciating at times. The skin is very sensitive at that spot. But I never made a sound. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. At first the tattoo was mostly about my uncle, and a little bit about me. In Japan dragons are considered friendly, benevolent creatures. This one isn't. This is an angry dragon. Which was exactly what I wanted, it reflected my feelings perfectly. The tattoo helped me recover from my grief. I even talked to it sometimes. Don't worry,” she smiled, “I don't do that any more. Now it's 90% me, it has really become part of my identity. But a little bit of him is still there and I suppose will never go away.”

He got up from bending over to study the tattoo more closely, and said: “It's the most magnificent tattoo I have ever seen. He must have been a true master of his art. It suits you well too. I see what you mean about it being part of your identity. I somehow seems to belong to you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He started to explore her body with his fingers, just as he had done with Julie the week before. He held her breast in his hand and squeezed. Just as he thought, nice and firm yet soft enough to play with. When he made the practice swing with the riding crop, standing behind her, her body twitched. For a second, the dragon danced. He waited long enough for her to relax, then whipped her ass. She sighed. That was all, just a sigh. It spoke a thousand words though, telling him this was where she belonged. Finally her search was over, somebody had taken the place of her uncle. It said she would never leave him, she would stay for as long as he wanted her. The sigh told him he could do whatever he wanted with her. She was home now.

He whipped her ass, the back of her thighs and her back 20 times, and all she did was sigh. Then he kissed her gently on her lips and put his hand between her legs. She was wet. He let two fingers slide between her pussy lips, finding her opening but not entering. She whispered: “Thank you, master.”

“For what?” he answered.

“For whipping me.”

“What makes you think I've finished?”

“I...”

“And besides...” he took a small step back, looked into her eyes for a moment, and then suddenly slapped her face hard. Her head spun sideways from the unexpected blow.

“Besides,” he repeated, his voice really sharp now, “less than half an hour ago I instructed you not to speak unless you were being asked a specific question.”

She looked back at him in shock, her dark eyes wide open. “I... I'm sorry master.”

He slapped her face again, even harder than the first time, her head spinning once more. He grabbed her chin and jerked her face back to face him. “That wasn't a question either.” he snapped, looking straight into her teary eyes.

She was about to apologize again, but his raised eyebrows made her swallow her words just in time.

He let go of her chin.

“God, I hope you're not stupid,” he grumbled as he stepped behind her. “That would be so disappointing. I cannot stand stupid women.”

She was wise enough to keep her mouth shut. Her cheek was bright red, her eyes filled with tears. He blindfolded her. Then he picked up the riding crop once more.

He said: “I was going to whip you ten more times. As punishment for your stupidity and indiscretion however, I will double that. I advise you not to make any more mistakes.”

In fact, he was quite pleased she had made a mistake. She was almost too perfect, he thought, and this was the first time she had shown a little crack in this armor of perfection. 

He whipped her tits a lot harder than Julie's the previous week. As punishment of course, but also because he felt the urge to hurt this girl. Break her. Reduce her not simply to tears, but to a crying, crawling, begging little mess. She incited a kind of aggression in him that was new to him. The first blow landed on her nipple, her beautiful dark nipple, hard with excitement. For the first time she squealed, her face showing agony. Then another hit, on the other nipple. The next one on the side of her breast, right where the dragon licked it. Her breathing became irregular. She moaned a little. More tears emerged, leaving a smudgy trail of mascara on her cheeks. She looked even more beautiful like that, he thought. Another hit on her nipple, preceded by that wonderful hissing sound. Twenty hits in total. Twelve on her tits, the rest on her stomach and inner thighs. There were lots of red marks on her skin now. The final one was on her pussy, from below. The flick of his wrist gave the tip of the whip extra speed, and it landed right between her legs on her half opened, wet labia. She still didn't scream, but by the way her head flung backwards upon impact he could see he had inflicted considerable pain.

He gave her some time to recover. The sight of Maki hanging by her wrists, barely able to stand on her trembling legs, her gorgeous body covered in whipping marks, was one he would never forget. He decided to add something. Even with the extra whipping, he felt things had been a little too easy for her so far. He took out a pair of nipple clamps. They were adjustable; with a little wheel he could change the pressure on her nipples, from barely noticeable to excruciatingly painful. He went for the latter. The clamps had a little spring mechanism as well, so putting them on her nipples they snapped, rather than eased into place, adding to the pain. With the blindfold still in place, the first nipple clamp came unexpected. Maki squealed. Her distorted face showed in how much pain she was. With the second clamp she knew what was coming, but that didn't make it any easier. She gasped. Her body didn't stop trembling. When after a few minutes she was somewhat used to the clamps, he added little led weights. About the size of a big marble, they were actually quite heavy. He let them dangle from little chains, one from each breast. The clamps pressed and the weights pulled her poor nipples so hard, she had to apply all her mental strenght to cope with the pain. He watched her struggle for a long time, comfortably seated in his chair, sipping his whisky. Every now and then he tapped the weights with the tip of the riding crop, or pressed the flesh of her breast, making the weights swing, hurting her some more.

Applying nipple clamps hurt. Taking them off hurts even more. When the blood returned to her nipples, she distorted her face once more from the most incredible pain. He made it worse by massaging her breasts right after taking off the clamps, stimulating the flow of blood some more.

Her cock sucking skills were excellent. More subtle than Julie's. She kissed, licked, sucked and nibbled on his cock in ways he had never experienced before. She had the ability to increase the pleasure ever so slowly, slowing down at times to make sure he wouldn't come too soon. Step by little step she guided him to a massive orgasm.

One thing she didn't get right though. She couldn't take his cock all the way into her mouth. She tried hard enough, but couldn't manage his eight inch cock. Another imperfection, he noted with satisfaction. When she got ready to go home on Sunday evening he handed her a dildo about the size of his cock. There were question marks in her eyes. “Homework,” he explained. “Practice every evening. I want you to be able to deepthroat me by the end of the month. If you can't manage to take my cock all the way into your mouth by yourself by then, well, I will help you a little, if you know what I mean.” She understood perfectly well; he would force his cock down her throat if she failed. 

Part IV: Julie and Maki

They looked at each other uncertainly, not quite knowing what to do next. Julie glanced at him quickly, as if waiting for a signal, then focussed her attention on Maki again. Michael was observing them from his club chair. He had told them to wear the sexiest outfits they owned. That was all, no further instructions, do what you like. Funny how both girls ended up in almost identical clothes: a little black dress (very little in fact), killer heels and – he would soon find out – black lace lingerie. And yet they looked very different. Julie looked like a slut. Quite a cheap one too, in her skin hugging dress, barely covering the essentials, her stiletto heels, bright red lipstick and generally a bit too much make-up. Not that there was anything wrong with that, he thought. On the contrary, slutty was good. Maki on the other hand looked like a million dollars. He wondered how that worked. Money was one factor, he figured. Julie's clothes had probably cost about two hundred bucks, put everything together. Maki's at least fifteen times that amount, if not more. He checked the labels later, long after everything had come off. He was right: the red soles had already given away the Manolo Blahnik shoes, the dress was by Issey Miyake, her lingerie from Agent Provocateur. One outfit, worth more than a month's salary for many people. It all fitted seamlessly, as if made bespoke. But it wasn't just expensive clothes that made the difference, he concluded. More important was pedigree. Their backgrounds were so different. Julie was the product of serendipity, the chance result of random genes combining into something very beautiful. He'd seen a picture of her parents. They were very ordinary looking people, not ugly but certainly not attractive either. How they managed to produce a gorgeous daughter like Julie was beyond him. Yet it happened, he'd seen it before. Maki however was the result of many generations of upper class Japanese breeding and upbringing. It showed in her composure, the way she behaved, spoke, ate, dressed, walked. Even in the way she fucked. She did everything with effortless elegance and class, without even realizing it. Maki could wear a bin bag and still look fantastic. It was something Julie would never manage to achieve.  He made a mental note to try to instill a bit more class in Julie, while making Maki a bit more slutty. Neither was going to be easy, he thought.

All this went through his head as he watched them enter the bedroom. Slutty or classy, they both looked fantastic. He could hardly believe how his luck, and his life, had changed. The two girls had literally met a minute ago. His instructions had been clear. No need to speak or even introduce themselves. That would come later. The first thing they were going to do together was have sex. Hot, steaming, lesbian sex, with him as audience. He'd told them he wanted the two of them to become not just friends, but lovers. Having two slavegirls was an experiment he was happy to undertake, but it would only work out if there would be no rivalry between them. If he noticed any of that, he would have to make a tough decision and send one of them home. And, he had asked rethorically, what better way of getting to know each other than a good fuck?

He was curious which of the girls would take the initiative: Maki who had more experience or Julie who was more extroverted. Julie took the first step. Her hand reached out and lightly touched Maki's hair. They looked into each others eyes. Julie smiled her big, warm smile, then she leaned in and kissed Maki. Their soft lips touched gently. Maki hands caressed Julie's arms and shoulders. Julie slowly pushed her hips forward. Their mouths opened a little, he could see tongues emerging and starting to explore. Maki stood on her toes to reach Julie's mouth, her right hand squeezed Julie's ass. They slowly undressed. He'd instructed them to give him another striptease, only this time undressing each other rather than themselves. Julie placed Maki in front of her to face him, and unzipped her dress. As it slid down her body her incredibly sexy lingerie appeared, high cut panties and a low cut bra in black see-through lace, with intricate little details such as double straps and heart shaped openings in unexpected places. Still in her 6 inch heels, Maki stepped out of the $ 1500 dress and kicked it to the side. Julie's hands were all over Maki's body now, kissing her neck at the same time. She unclipped Maki's bra and started to massage her lovely breasts. One hand travelled her flat stomach and found its way into her panty. Next it was Maki's turn to help Julie out of her clothes. Her small, elegant hands cupping Julie's magnificent tits was one of the highlights of the afternoon, he thought. The girls sank down to the floor, Maki on top first, their kisses becoming wilder and more passionate, mouths wide open. Maki went down to suck Julie's nipples, biting them gently, squeezing her tits to push out the nipples towards her mouth. Julie squirmed. After a while she pushed Maki's head further down towards her pussy. Michael had a straight view between Julie's legs. She was dripping wet. She pushed Maki's face against her wet panties and  moaned. Maki quickly pulled down the little g-string and started eating the other girl's pussy, kneeling down with her cute little ass pointing upwards in his direction. He noticed the Asian girl was soaking wet as well.

He let them play for nearly an hour. They performed oral sex on each other several times, in a 69 position, their faces dripping with pussy juice. Julie fucked Maki with one finger, then two, then three. Maki returned the favour, but added an extra finger, getting quite close to a fistfuck. Each girl had multiple orgasms. Their lovemaking heated up and slowed down several times. He enjoyed every minute of the show. He had expected he perhaps would have to give some instructions, but it wasn't necessary. When there was another moment of calm in their passionate lovemaking, he said: “OK girls, that was great but I think it's enough for now. Time to devote your attention to your master now.”

The girls knew what to do next. As both had done on their first day with him, they crawled slowly towards him, took off his clothes and started to suck his cock. He loved blowjobs. In fact, he thought it was the best thing a woman could do to a man. A double blowjob was even better. Two girls on their knees in front of him, two mouths to fill, two tongues licking and sucking his cock, it was almost too much. When Maki had his cock in her mouth, Julie sucked his balls. And vice versa. Every minute or so they switched. He felt like bursting but made an effort to hold back; he didn't want to come yet. After a while he got up and gently dragged both girls to the bed. He threw Maki on the bed first, turned her on her back and began to fuck her missionary stile. Julie was lying next to them caressing and kissing both him and Maki. Then he turned over, with Maki now on top slowly riding his cock. This was where the girl's instructions varied. This was the cue for Julie to get a whip from the chest of drawers, a cat o' nine tails. Maki was sitting on top of him, his cock deep inside her, her hips grinding slowly, her eyes closed and her head back in lazy extasy. He told her to raise her arms above her head. The sight of her became even more beautiful. He nodded lightly in Julie's direction. She held the handle of the whip in her right hand, the tails in the other. She raised both hands and then let go of the tails while she swung her arm with a sudden movement. He had instructed Julie to whip hard, not to hold back. “Whip her the way you would want me to whip you,” he'd said. The nine tails landed with force on Maki's breasts, making them jump up and down. Maki's eyes were still half closed, so she hardly saw it coming. Still she just sighed, just like the previous week, albeit a bit louder. A sharp intake of breath, that was all. She squeezed her pussy muscles tight around his hard cock, and her face showed even more ecstasy than before. Twenty hits, he had instructed Julie, ten on her tits and ten on her back. From his point of view, this gorgeous half Asian girl on top of him, riding his cock while being whipped by hot, naked Julie, the tails of the whip flying over his face (he could actually feel the air moving) before landing on her breasts, was the most exciting thing he had ever experienced. Almost on cue, at the twentieth hit, when she squeezed his cock for the last time, he exploded inside her and she, for the first time in her life, lost control. Her orgasm was that powerful. She shook and trembled and cried and moaned. Tears were running down her cheeks; tears of pain, happiness and a thousand other emotions. It took her a long time to come to her senses again, kissing his face and hugging and squeezing and thanking him over and over again. He had triggered something in this girl. She had crossed some invisible line.

He stayed hard. He lifted Maki off him and made Julie clean his cock with her mouth, licking off his cum and Maki's juices. Then he told her to suck his cum out of Maki's pussy. All of it. He watched her go down on Maki, who was still half delirious, for the umpteenth time that afternoon. He lifted Maki up and made her sit on Julie's face, so his cum and her juices could flow out more easily. When she had sucked the last drop of cum out of Maki's pussy, he began to fuck Julie. Like a rag doll, he threw her all over the bed and screwed her in different positions; on her hands and knees, on her back, lying sideways. When she too ended up on top of him, riding his cock, it was Maki's turn to go to the chest of drawers. Not to get another whip though. She took out a black strap-on dildo, put it on and oiled it. When she was ready, Michael took Julie's nipples between his thumbs and fingers and pulled her towards him. Her big tits touched his chest as he put his arms around her and hugged her tight. Meanwhile Maki positioned herself between their legs and was rubbing oil on Julie's tight little asshole. She placed the tip of the black strap-on dildo on Julie's back entrance and started to push. Julie suddenly realised what was going to happen and started moaning in anticipation. He watched Maki over Julie's shoulders. She was concentrating hard. As the dildo slowly entered Julie's ass, inch by inch, he could feel it rubbing against his cock inside her pussy. Julie's fingers were digging in the matress, her breathing became heavy. He still held her tight, not letting her get away, his arms around her body, her face buried in his neck. Julie had never before had a double penetration. She felt as if she were being split in half. When Maki had finally managed to push the dildo all the way in, Michael gave her a little signal with his hand to indicate she could now begin to fuck the other girl for real. With his cock still deep inside her pussy and Julie not able to move in his tight grip, Maki put her hands on Julie's hips and started to fuck her ass. He felt the dildo slide in and out, the thin lining between her pussy and asshole the only thing that seperated the dildo from his cock. He had instructed Maki not to go slowly first, so she furiously pounded Julie's ass right from the start. With his hands he started to collect Julie's hair, and when he had a full ponytail he pulled it so he could see her face. It showed the same mixture of ecstacy and agony he'd seen on Maki's face earlier. What a lovely view! He handed the ponytail to Maki; something to hold on to while she fucked the other girl's brains out. Maki pulled Julie's hair so hard she lifted her upper body off his chest, exposing her tits. He reached out and squeezed them hard, digging his fingers deep into the soft flesh, pinching her hard nipples roughly between his thumb and index finger, slapping them, adding to both the pain and the pleasure of the blonde girl who was by now having orgasm after heavenly orgasm. Then he started to fuck her as well, in sync with Maki, ramming his big cock in and out of Julie's pussy while the black dildo was being trashed into her ass. Just before he came for the second time in half an hour, he had eye contact with Maki, who looked at him with an intense, trance-like gaze.

He almost roared when he shot his load deep inside Julie. Maki stopped her movements, but kept the dildo in Julie's ass, gently caressing her back. They stayed still like that for some time, his erection slowly subsiding, until he nodded to Maki to indicate she could pull out while he did the same. Now Maki had to clean his cock and empty Julie's pussy with her mouth. She emerged with cum and sticky juices all over her pretty face. Exhausted, the three of them were lying down in each others arms, a girl on each side of him, resting their faces on his chest. Like that, they fell asleep.

When they woke up an hour later he finally introduced the girls. “Maki, this is Julie. Julie, meet Maki.” They smiled at each other coyly and said hi. He chuckled and smacked their asses playfully. “I'm going to have a shower while you girls get to know each other,” he laughed as he got up from the bed. When he came out of the bathroom they were chatting softly. He parked himself with a glass of wine in a comfortable chair in the garden as the girls showered as well. He had a newspaper but couldn't concentrate; he was completely happy and relaxed and mellow while at the same time still in the middle of a huge adrenaline rush. One by one the girls emerged, first Maki in a short blue and white kimono with crane birds, then Julie in a miniskirt with a tank top that struggled to keep her big tits in place. Their outfits seemed to perfectly match their personalities. No underwear of course. Since this was the first time, he checked to make sure, sliding his hand between their legs as they presented themselves, almost as if for inspection.

They talked all night. Julie cooked dinner, gazpacho for starters and fishcakes as a main course. Spurred on by two bottles of Sancerre they laughed and joked, but also had serious conversations about politics and personal things. When they went to bed, he placed a futon matress on the floor beside the bed. His king size bed was big, but not big enough to comfortably sleep three. And anyway he liked his space while sleeping. So Maki had the honour to sleep in his bed this first night, while Julie would be sleeping on the floor. He put leather bracelets on her wrists, tied them together and chained them to a ring attached to the wall, forcing her hands above her head as she was lying down on her side. He covered her naked body with a sheet which she wouldn't be able to pull up if she got uncovered, and kissed her gently goodnight. He and Maki got into the big bed, had whispered conversation and made lazy love, no orgasms, just bodies touching sofly.

Halfway through he night he had to piss. He looked down from the bed at Julie sleeping on her back, hands tied to the wall above her head, her gorgeous big breasts exposed as the sheet had slid down and only covered her legs and hips. He decided to surprise her. Last night had been really nice and cozy, but he shouldn't allow too much slack, he thought. Keep them on their toes. He got up, untied her wrists and retied them behind her back. She was still half asleep when he roughly yanked her up by her hair and dragged her to the bathroom, her legs barely able to follow his pace. He pushed her down on her knees in the shower. “Open your mouth, you little slut,” he barked. She dutifully obeyed, tilted her head and opened her mouth wide. He stood in front of her, his legs slightly apart. She moved her mouth towards his cock, thinking he wanted another blow job. Instead he began to piss in her mouth. “Drink up, bitch,” he said. She was so surprised she choked and closed her mouth. He stopped peeing and slapped her face hard. “Open it!” Quickly she opened her mouth again. By pure force of will he managed not to have an erection; you can't have a hard-on and piss at the same time. After a little while he restarted to empty his bladder. She tried to gulp down the warm, yellow liquid. He had drank wine and lots of water last night, so it just kept coming. He aimed mainly for her mouth, but sometimes a little higher, splashing lots of it on her face and her hair. “Keep your eyes open.” She tried her best to drink all of it and actually managed quite well. When he had finally finished she asked meekly if she should clean his cock. She already leaned forward. “Not with that mouth full of piss, thank you very much.” He spun her around and took off the bracelets. He turned the shower knob for the water temperature to cold and said: “Clean yourself up, you filthy bitch. Wash your hair, brush your teeth. Do not dare to change the temperature of the shower. When you come back you can clean me.” He opened the tap and left her in the ice cold shower. She came back ten minutes later, her hair wet, shivering. He was lying on his back as she kneeled beside the bed, uncovered him and took his cock in her mouth, cleaning him thoroughly. She made him hard, but then he stopped her. He tied her up again, stroked her hair gently and wished her goodnight.

Back in bed he turned to Maki, who was lying on her side with her back towards him. He pushed his body against hers and covered her mouth with his hand. He whispered in her ear: “Shhhh, don't make a sound.” He could feel her smile underneath his hand. She recognized that phrase. He pushed his cock against her pussy. She hadn't seen anything of what had gone on with Julie but had still become soaking wet just listening to them. He pushed his cock in easily and kept it all the way in, the tip touching her ovaries. He stopped moving. She shuddered. She began to make almost imperceptible circular movements with her hips, while at the same time working the muscles in her pussy. His hands moved to her breasts. On and off he caressed them ever so lightly with his fingertips, then pinched her nipples. They barely moved, hardly made a sound. Only Maki's irregular breathing could be heard; she was panting lightly now. The shuddering increased in frequency, little uncontrollable shakes of her body. She came with her face buried in her pillow, still barely making any sound but trembling and shivering all over. When she had recovered, she turned around to face him. “Thank you.... Thank you, master,” she whispered softly. Then, after a little pause, “But you didn't come. I am sorry for being so selfish. Would you like me to satisfy you with my mouth?” He smiled at her: “No sweety, it's fine for now. Tomorrow morning you can wake me up with a blow job.” She hugged him and fell asleep with an arm across his chest and a leg over his abdomen, like a little monkey. A very sexy monkey, he thought as he closed his eyes. His last thought was of Julie. He couldn't see her, but he was pretty sure he could read her mind: she had heard everything and was now begging him in her mind to climb down from the bed and fuck her. No such luck, little slut, he thought, and fell asleep.

***

His gamble to be greedy and have two slavegirls worked out better than he could ever have imagined. The three of them got on fantastically. The two girls complemented each other almost seamlessly, not just physically but also in character. Julie was the happy-go-lucky, cheerful, outdoors kind of girl. He shared a love of sports with her. They would go hiking or running, anything to beat up their bodies and stay strong and fit. The river at which the cafe in the park was situated flowed into the sea a few miles further down, so he bought a sailing dinghy which they took out on weekends. The stronger the wind, the more they enjoyed it. The little roll of fat disappeared in no time; within weeks she was back in her former athletic shape. They also liked watching sports, soccer especially. When one of their favourite teams played, Barcelona or Liverpool, they would park themselves in front of the TV with beer and crisps and scream and shout and root for their club. If their team lost, their main topic of discussion would be the mother of the referee.  After a few months, she asked him if she could run the household. She hated her job at the law firm and wanted to quit. He agreed; he had just fired his third completely useless maid (this one wasn't even able to match socks) and was getting a bit desperate. To his great surprise, Julie turned out to be some kind of domestic goddess. She kept the house spotless, washed clothes and dishes, made sure there were always fresh flowers, shopped for the best quality organic food and cooked the most fantastic meals. Every day when he came home from work she welcomed him with her big smile, poured him a drink, rubbed his shoulders and attended to any other need, sexual or otherwise, he may have at that moment. His own little Stepford wife, he thought contently.

Maki was the intellectual and cultural one. He would take her to the opera, concerts and exhibitions. They discussed politics, art or the economy. She had an incredibly sharp mind. He started taking her to the obligatory black tie dinners and other business events he had to attend as a bank director,  which required him to bring a partner. She enjoyed spending these kind of evenings with him. She was proud to be at his side, and the feeling was mutual. In business circles they became a bit of a glamour couple. With her beauty, elegance and charm she wrapped everybody, men and women, around her finger. More than once she reeled in big clients for him. Especially for these events they paid a lot of attention to what she'd wear. Dresses and shoes were of course carefully picked, but what she wore underneath was even more important. They played little games. Sometimes she wouldn't wear panties. She loved the feeling of cool air twirling around her bare pussy as they walked to some expensive restaurant or hotel. Enjoyed the little secret they shared. She'd have to beware nobody would get a view underneath her dress or skirt, especially when sitting down or stepping out of a car. He would of course always make sure her garment was short enough to make that a distinct possibility. He bought some nipple jewelry; one of their favourites was made of silver barbed wire which could be bent tight around her nipples underneath her see-through lace bra. If you looked very carefully you could see it through her dress. It would only be moderately painful, but it ensured she would be reminded of her tits the whole evening. To stay in shape she went to dance class twice a week, as she had done since the age of four, and all the other days she practiced yoga at home. He found it incredibly sexy to watch her do yoga, all these impossible positions, dressed in some skintight spandex. Weather permitting, she would do her exercises in the garden. Sometimes he asked her to do her yoga naked, which could be unbearably exciting to watch.

Within weeks both girls had moved in with him. They both kept their apartments, but rarely spent time there anymore. He helped them pack, carefully going through all their clothes, selecting what they would take and what could stay. With Julie that was done within half an hour. She didn't have too many clothes in the first place, and there were only two categories: slutty or practical. They were going to have to do some shopping. Going through Maki's wardrobe took more than half a day. He studied everything, checked all the designer labels, and at one point remarked: “My goodness, you must have spent a fortune on all of this!” He'd done a quick calculation in his head and guessed her clothes were worth at least two hundred thousand bucks. “I know your family is rich, but this is amazing. I've never seen anything like this!”

She answered: “You know, a few months after Hiro died, my grandfather passed away as well. He had just sold his companies - plural - and was ready to retire when he had a heart attack. He turned out to be much richer than we all thought. I knew he was very wealthy, but never had any idea how wealthy. My mother told me he was worth the equivalent of about a billion US dollars. Apart from the comfortable big house, he had never showed off his wealth. Most of the money went to my grandmother, but my mother and I both inherited about $ 25 million in Japanese yen. It's in a bank account in Japan. I can comfortably live from it, but hardly use it. It's nice to know I don't need to worry about money. My one and only extravagance is clothes.”

“Well, if you have to have an extravagance, this is as good as any,” he quipped.

She smiled. “Better than drugs or alcohol, I guess. After his funeral my mother stayed with my grandmother and never returned. My parents were about to seperate anyway, so she had a good excuse. My mother and grandmother live in our old family house now. God knows what they're up to. I talk to them on the phone, but haven't seen them in a year and a half.”

***

On the first day of the following month, he called Maki to the bedroom.

“A few weeks ago I gave you homework,” he said. “I assume you've praticed like I asked you to do. You had until the end of the month to get it right. Time for a test.”

“I've done my homework, master. I hope you will be satisfied,” she replied with the uncertainty of a middle school student who wasn't entirely sure if she'd pass the test. After that first night with both girls he hadn't asked Maki to suck his cock again, always leaving it to Julie who didn't have any problems swallowing his cock. Either she didn't have a gagging reflex or she had found a way to suppress it. He made sure Makie would watch though, see how it's done. He wondered if Julie had helped Maki with her assignment.

He propped a few pillows behind his back and sat down on the bed. Maki's foreplay was as good as it had been on their first night together, lips and tongue doing all the right things in all the right places. He was rock hard. Then she took him in her mouth. Just the head at first, her tongue doing little dance moves. Then with every move of her head, she took his cock a little deeper into her mouth. Three inches, then four, then five. At six inches, or so he guessed looking down, he touched the back of her throat. He didn't do anything yet, just let her work it out. She gagged, let his cock slide out a little and tried again. It went in a little further. About an inch and a half to go. More gagging. Tears in her eyes. Slime on her face. But she didn't manage to take it all in. She tried desperately for about five minutes until he had enough. He grabbed her hair and pulled her up. “This is not going to work, is it,” he said. 

“I'm so sorry master,” she cried. “I just can't do it. Your cock is so big!”

“Turn over,” he said grumpily. He positioned her on her stomach on the bed, her face just over the side, and made her hold her anckles with her hands, arching her back. He lifted up her head, ensuring her mouth and her throat were in a straight line. He stepped in front of her and offered his cock once more. She greedily took it in her mouth, eager to satisfy him. He held her head with both hands and pushed. His cock slowly filled her mouth, her jaws stretching wide open. He could feel the resistance as he reached the back of her throat. But he didn't stop. He just continued to push. She had no choice but to open up her throat, and suddenly he was all the way in. He held her hair and pushed her face into his groin, his balls on her chin, her pretty little nose crumpled against his abdomen. Her airways blocked, she couldn't breathe. He held her like that for about 10 seconds, then let go. She gasped and coughed up some bile, recovered, shook her head a little and opened her mouth wide again. He pushed his cock all the way in once more and held it there a bit longer. The third time she nearly panicked because of the lack of air, big eyes looking up at him, but not daring to resist. He went on and on, pushing it in and holding her head, stuffing her mouth and throat with his 8 inch cock, her face becoming a mess of tears and strings of slime. In the end he simply fucked her mouth. When he was about to come he pushed his cock into her throat one more time and held it there, squirting his cum right into her stomach - or so he imagined. She coughed and choked for minutes afterwards. Some of his sperm came out through her nose.

When she was done coughing, he lectured her. “Any girl should learn to suck cock and enjoy it. For you however, as my slavegirl, the bar is set a little higher. You must learn to give deepthroats, and not just enjoy it but love it. Really love it. Giving me a blowjob must turn you on as much as getting a blowjob turns me on. The taste of cum in your mouth should be like the sweetest nectar for you. Any cum, but especially mine. You should be ready to give me a blowjob at any time, wherever we are, and be completely happy about it. Of all the things a woman can do to me, I like a blowjob perhaps the most, so this is not going to go away you know. So get it right. Until you do, I will punish you every time you get it wrong. And if you think my cock is big, wait until I bring one of my black friends for some advanced training.” She nodded meekly, with a serious expression on her face.

A week later he found a deliciously cruel training instrument: a 16 inch double dildo. It had two heads and was meant to penetrate two girls at the same time. But he gave it to Julie and most of all Maki for another purpose: to practice their cock sucking skills. He made them take it in their mouths from both ends until one half had disappeared in Julie's throat, and the other in Maki's. He wouldn't be satisfied until their lips touched and he no longer could see the dildo.

That night he punished Maki severely for not fulfilling her assignment. He whipped her harder and longer than ever before. She promised she'd do everything to get it right. It took her months of practice, during which many tears were shed, but in the end she did manage to deepthroat him, although never as easily as Julie. She always struggled and had to work hard. He never told her, but in fact he was rather pleased she found it difficult. She was almost too perfect at times, and perfect gets boring. He wanted his slavegirls to try their very best to please him, to try to be his perfect slave. But he would have to make sure they'd never reach that coveted goal. Get close, but never reach the finish line. So it pleased him to find something she wasn't good at. Once she mastered this, he would have to search for a new challenge.

Part V: Madam and Steve

“The brunette in the corner?”

She looked in the direction he was nodding and shook her head: “uh uh.”

He searched the room some more. “What about blondie over there?”

“Getting warm...”

They were playing their game. The game he always lost, yet loved playing. The game that always followed the same pattern. A bit like “I spy with my little eye...” Madam would tell him she'd spotted another one, and he would try to find out who it was.

“Oh, you don't say, the brown girl?”, he said with disbelief in his voice as he pointed with his eyes at the bubbly, smiling, slightly overweight black girl who was the centre of a lively conversation in a group of young men and women. They were loud in a cheerful way, all laughter and teasing and fun.

Madam nodded slowly, a vague smile on her face. “Yeah, she's one,” she added.

“Mhhh, she is different,” he mumbled. They usually picked up more beautiful girls. Models. This girl was too heavy to be a fashion model. But her liveliness and generous smile compensated a lot. She was very attractive. “I like her.”

“Do you want her?”

“Oh, we have more than enough on our plate as it is right now, don't we?”

Madam was lost in thought for a moment, weighing her options. Then she made up her mind. “You're right, but I'll go talk to her anyway. I see what you mean about her being different. I like her too. Maybe sometime in the future,” she said and strolled off towards the group of youngsters. He watched his wife weave through the crowd, his eyes glued to her ass. ”God, she's still hot,” he thought. As if she read his mind, she glanced back at him and smiled. Within minutes she had separated the girl from the group and was in serious conversation with her in a dark corner.

***

They had met as freshmen in college. When they analyzed, years later, what exactly had been the mutual attraction, they agreed that more than anything else it had been ambition. The burning desire to come out on top. To become very rich, but most of all to beat all the others. All the fuckers that had made their lives miserable at school. The bullies, male and female.

Both of them had had a rough time in highschool. In her case it had been because of her weight. She had been a seriously obese teenager. Insecurity made her eat. A lot. The only way to survive the bullying had been to develop the sharpest tongue in school and a wicked sense of humour. Her remarks could be so poisonous, even the meanest and most popular cheerleader bitches were careful around her. She established some kind of independence, became untouchable in a strange way. She even gained some popularity and notoriety with the nerds and other “unpopulars”, who would sometimes pay her money to verbally settle scores. It gave her some kind of status at school, but she was nevertheless lonely and seldom happy. In her senior year she made the decision to do something about it. It was either that, or stay fat and unhappy for the rest of her life. So she stopped stuffing herself, started to eat healthy food, joined the local gym and began a furious fitness program. Slowly she managed to get rid of all the excess weight. By the time she entered college she had lost nearly eighty pounds, and had morphed into a slim, attractive young woman. She remained a fitness fanatic ever since. Her sharp wit remained, but over time she learned how to use it constructively rather than to try to crush people with it.

His curse had been acne. He was a handsome, carefree 12 year old boy, with lots of friends and without a worry in the world. Then one day he woke up with his face covered in red pimples, and at school the bullying started. He tried every cure in the book to get rid of the spots, but nothing worked. His GP told him at some point the only remedy was to ride it out, wait until his teenage years were over. That didn't help really, but at least it was clear. He hated himself, and basically locked himself up with his computer for the next six years. When he was 18, just before graduation, the spots were gone as suddenly as they had appeared six years before. All of a sudden his face was clean, except for the scars which for the rest of his life he covered with a three day beard. He also emerged from his self imposed isolation knowing more about computer programming than just about anybody in the country. He had started his first IT company at the age of 16 and was already well on his way to becoming a millionaire. He went to college with about a dozen business ideas in his head.

By the time they graduated they were seen at university as the ultimate power couple; good looking, ambitious, very likely to succeed in life. And they did. Steve founded and sold a series of succesful IT companies. By the time he was 30 he was worth more than a hundred million. Madam opened a high end fashion store. She had both the fashion and the business sense to always be one step ahead of the competition. She discovered young, upcoming designers one after the other. Many started their careers selling their clothes in her shops. After a year she opened another store. Five years later she had 26 stores all over the country. By then she wasn't just ahead of the rest, she could make or break the careers of fashion designers, even established ones. At first she had shown the perfect instinct by finding designers who were hot. By now it was she who decided who was hot. Subtle difference.

Their college romance was shy and tentative at first. They connected intellectually, much less physically. They would spend hours talking about the future, their business ideas, succesful people they admired, and so on. It took more than three months of dating before they had sex. For both of them it was the first time. It was awkward and clumsy, but by now their bond was strong enough to laugh about it and try again. Step by step they got the hang of it. No longer insecure about themselves, they began to experiment. She bought a copy of the Kamasutra one day and they made it a project to work through the whole book, try every position, including the really acrobatic ones. They tried threesomes, foursomes, and took part in a couple of orgies. Just before graduation there was a period of a few months during which they had sex in places where they could be discovered, daring each other into ever riskier adventures. Doing it in the dean's office was one of their highlights. They were members of the mile high club, of course. Jealousy was a word unknown to them. They allowed each other to have little adventures, and were completely open about it. It didn't affect the basis of their relationship. In more than 20 years of being together, they had never had a fight.

Because of her business, she knew lots of models. Beautiful girls, all of them. A lot of these girls were wild and uninhibited, and some were openly lesbian or bisexual. She admired that. Once in a while she seduced a model, or the other way around was seduced herself. Sometimes she'd take them home for a threesome with Steve.

Claire was one of those girls. Madam had seen her around the catwalk before. A tall, statuesque brunette with endless legs. In her mid twenties, she'd been around the modelling circuit for nearly a decade. She was an independent spirit, who didn't owe anybody anything. She only worked when she wanted to. A bit of a hippie really, Madam found. A very beautiful hippie. Backstage at some show they started talking. They flirted. Something clicked. There was something about this girl that attracted Madam, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Sure she was very pretty, but so were many other girls. What made this girl so special?

Back at Madam and Steve's beautiful villa they made love. It was great, all passionate and intense and hot but nothing out of the ordinary, when Claire all of a sudden said: “Spank me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Spank me. Please. I really want you to spank me. Hard. It's what I like. And I know you want to do it. I've been giving you hints for the last hour or so, but you don't seem to pick them up. So please, spank me.”

Without waiting for an answer, Claire positioned herself on Madam's lap, offering her gorgeous, heart shaped ass. At that moment Madam had an epiphany. She suddenly realized that subconciously she'd known all along this was what Claire wanted. Even when she walked on the catwalk. Even when she'd seen her previous times. It was in the girl's behaviour, her composure. She just hadn't recognized it. She had noticed it before in other girls too, something inexplicable which she found very attractive. All of a sudden things became very clear. It wasn't just about what these girls wanted, it was something in herself as well. Claire was right, she did want to spank her. And more. Dominate her. Submit her.

With a loud smack her right hand landed on Claire's ass. “Oooh …. yeah,” the girl purred.

“You like that?” Madam asked.

“Yes, madam,” Claire replied.

Another blow followed.

“Oh, yes please!” Claire cried out.

Madam began to feel aroused in a way she'd never experienced before. Her pussy was on fire and she had the feeling she could come right there, without anybody touching her. Spanking this girl did that to her. Again her hand landed hard on Claire's magnificent ass. She noticed the skin turning a little red. And then she was off, lost in some kind of trance. Afterwards she couldn't remember how many times she spanked Claire. When she finally finished, the girl was crying and her ass was dark red. In between she had played with Claire's pussy, and the combination of spanking and fingering had given her half a dozen orgasms, if not more. Still lying face down on Madam's lap, Claire turned her head and whispered :“Thank you.”

“We're not done yet, slut,” Madam replied. “You've had all the fun so far. Now you can do some work. Eat my cunt, bitch. Get on your knees!”

Madam didn't quite know where that came from, but boy did it feel good! Claire climbed down on her knees and buried her face beween Madam's legs. Her task couldn't have been easier. It took less than a minute. The moment her tongue touched Madam's clit, she had a screaming orgasm.

When Steve came home that night, Madam was waiting for him in the ktichen. “I have a little surprise for you,” she purred and took him to the dining room. She knew he had a dominant streak as well, not with her but with other women. She'd noticed it during their three- and foursomes. His eyes went big as he walked in. A beautiful girl was bent over the dinner table, face down, her anckles attached to the legs of the table, her wrists tied behind her back. Her long legs straight, he had a full view of her magnificent ass sticking up.

“This is Claire,” Madam explained with a proud little smile. “Claire would really like you to fuck her brains out. She's been waiting for you for more than an hour.”

He walked over to the girl slowly, almost carefully.

“Waiting like this?”, he asked.

Madam nodded.

“Hmmm, this is a nice surprise indeed,” he said.

He pointed at Claire's ass, still red from the spanking a few hours earlier.

“What happened here?”, he asked.

“Oh, don't worry, she asked for it.... Literally,” Madam replied.

He let his fingertips slide over Claire's perfect, heart shaped ass. “What did you use?”

She just held up her right hand.

He gave her an admiring little nod.

“Is it sore?”, he asked.

“My hand or her ass?”, she quipped.

He laughed: “Well, both I guess.”

“My hand is a little sore still, but it's nothing compared to her ass I suppose.”

He was busy unbuckling his belt. “Can I check?”

“I'm sure Claire won't mind,” Madam answered on behalf of the girl.

His right hand was resting on Claire's ass now. He lifted it and slapped her left buttock.

“Ooh …. hoo,” Claire squealed softly but in a high pitched voice, her face grimacing from the pain.

“Yep, still sore,” he deadpanned. He slapped her other buttock.

By now he had opened his pants and taken out his cock, already hard, not terribly long but very thick and with a little bend. He had positioned himself behind the girl, the tip of his cock at her wet entrance. He caressed and squeezed her buttocks gently. Then, holding her hips with both hands, he rammed his cock all the way in with one hard, violent thrust. Her thighs slammed against the side of the table. The heavy teak dinner table moved a few milimeters because of the impact, scraping the tiled floor. Another “oooh” emerged from Claire's lips, followed by a mumbled “fuck!” Steve left his cock in for a few seconds, then pulled it out ever so slowly until it was at its original position. Then he rammed it in again, full force, holding her waist for balance. A little squeal from Claire. A slow exit, followed by another violent thrust. He fucked Claire like this for ten minutes, never changing pace. The only variation was the position of his hands. They moved from holding her hips to gripping her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, pulling her hair, to her tied hands and back to her hips again, each time finding something to hold on to for the next onslaught. Only at the very end he suddenly fucked her fast and hard, like a madman, until he came. When he was done the table had moved about 4 inches across the dining room. Claire had dark blue bruises on her thighs from banging into the table.

***

Claire stayed. That in itself wasn't unusual. She didn't have a place of her own so she stayed with other people all the time. All her possessions fitted in her old little Mazda MX5. At the age of 15 she had run away from home, from an abusive stepfather and an indifferent mother. She ended up squatting at first, or sometimes spending a few nights with friends. She dropped out of school. Her future looked bleak, but her beauty saved her. Soon after she ran away from home she was scouted for a modelling job. The modelling took off and through the years had provided her with a more or less steady income. With that came independence, which she treasured more than anything. She'd been on the move ever since, a wandering spirit. She never spent more than three months in the same place, always making sure to be a good houseguest, doing chores and paying for her share in living expenses. But never settling anywehere. As her network widened, she started to do housesitting for people who went on holiday or on long business trips. People from all walks of life, some rich, some poor. She developed the habit of temporarily adapting her lifestyle to those of the people who's houses she looked after. If they had a lot of books, she would read all day. The producer who's mansion she lived in while he was shooting a movie somewhere abroad, had a movie theatre, so she watched more than 200 movies in 2 months. It could be anything, from fitness to collecting stamps. After a decade of restlesness, she had a huge circle of friends and acquaintances, and encyclopaedic knowledge about the strangest things.

And she had sex, lots of sex with lots of people. Male or female, young or old, it didn't matter. She was an omnivore. She was completely casual about it. If she wanted sex, she would simply choose someone to have sex with. Whoever was available. She could enter a coffee shop and just as easily end up sleeping with the pretty barrista as with the sharp dressed lawyer who'd just walked in for his daily latte. Nobody ever said no. She left her lovers as easily as she found them though. No relationships. Back home she had seen how that worked out. Whoever tried to come too close would be abandoned. Through the years she'd left behind a long trail of disillusioned wannabe boyfriends and girlfriends, many of them still pining over what could have been.

She had very few taboos either. Over the years, she'd slept with scores of people with all kinds of kinky habits. Since she had very few inhibitions she tried them all, and found that she tended to return to these people more often than to the ones with more regular sexual habits. She was drawn to the dark side of sex. Like the man who owned a huge terrarium in which he kept dozens of snakes of all sizes. Some were quite small, between one and two feet long. Others were bigger, and he also had a boa constrictor that measured more than 8 feet. He got his kick from watching his snakes slithering on Claire's beautiful, naked body. She was a bit apprehensive at first, but she got used to it quickly and the feeling of those cool snakes on her skin soon became a huge turn-on. She would lie down on her back on a large table, naked, right next to the enormous glass cage with all the snakes. The lighting was always a little spooky, adding to the kinky atmosphere. The man would drape a snake on her body. The serpent would slowly start moving all over her. Its forked tongue flipped in and out of its mouth, which to her looked totally horny and filthy. He made sure the snakes would touch her breasts; glide over her nipples. Or slide from her thighs to her stomach, touching her pussy, wide open and wet, along the way. Claire would shiver with pleasure. Sometimes he covered her with two or three snakes, or even more. The boa was introduced only after a while. Instead of lying her down on the table, he made Claire go on her hands and knees on the floor. She quickly found out why. This way the boa could wrap itself around her body. It did so after a while and then began to do what these big snakes are known for: squeeze. Slowly the boa wrapped itself around her. First once, then twice, then three times. Inch by inch it coiled itself tighter and tighter around her nude body. The man was playing with her pussy meanwhile, alternating between finger fucking her and rubbing her clit. As the air was slowly pushed out of her lungs, she had orgasm after orgasm. Her tits were being squashed by the the snake. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Her vision became blurred and her head was literally spinning. She was totally helpless; there was no way she would be able to release herself from the snake's ever increasing grip. She began to fear the man was taking it too far. That thought in itself added to her excitement. Would he really? Just before she fainted, and right in the middle of another massive orgasm, the man, having to use quite a bit of strenght, uncoiled the boa from her body. She collapsed to the floor while he put the snake back in its terrarium, gasping for air. He was back within seconds and without any further ado turned her over on her back and fucked her brains out, while she was still gasping for air, desperately trying to get some oxygen back into her lungs. She loved it.

Even better was the night when he made her lie on her back on the table, with her knees up and her legs spread wide. He produced a perspex tube, about 10 inches long and with a 2 inch diameter. On one end it had a narrow, beak like opening, which he carefully inserted into her pussy. Just an inch or so. He told her to hold the tube like that. He scooped one of the smallest snakes out of the terrarium and pushed it head first into the transparent tube. With a small, round dish on a stick, which made the tube look like a giant syringe, he slowly pushed the snake further and further into the tube. Claire, watching this, suddenly realized the increasingly agitated snake had only one way to go: inside her. She looked up at him in disbelief and was about to protest. Without saying a word however, by just giving her a hard look back, he shut her up and made it clear that this was going to happen no matter what. She relented. She closed her eyes, but he ordered her to keep watching the snake being forced through the tube towards her pussy. He pushed the stick some more and she could feel the head of the snake inside her. It moved its head against the sides of het entrance. Eased by her wetness, and pushed further in by the man, its body followed until the whole animal was inside her cunt. The serpent twisted and turned, gliding around her orifice, probably trying to find a way out. She wondered if panic was an emotion experienced by snakes. The man pulled out the tube and covered her pussy with his hand. Closing her up. He gently played with her clit. Faster and faster the snake moved inside her. It was totally crazy, like a vibrator but a hundred times better. She could feel the snake touching her ovaries. Several times it scraped against her g-spot. She trembled with delight and disgust, panting, mumbling. The man massaged her breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples hard, with his other hand. Again she had countless orgasms. He kept the snake inside her cunt for almost half an hour. Only then did he remove his hand from her pussy, opened her up with his fingers and fished out the frenzied snake, which was covered in pussy juices. After tossing the snake back into the terrarium he fucked her mouth this time and came all over her face. Just like every time, that evening she left his place feeling disgusted and humiliated and swearing to herself never to go back.

But she always changed her mind after a while, and inevitably would call him to make another appointment. So a few weeks later she was lying on her back on the table again, same as last time. He'd be getting her hot by having two pretty large snakes travel all over her body. He was going to take it yet another step further this time. While the snakes were slithering on her, he had opened her pussy up with a speculum, the kind gyneacologists use. A metal one of course, cold and uncomfortable. He secured the speculum in just about its widest position, stretching her cunt painfully. Then he took out a much larger snake than the previous time. This one was at least four feet long, maybe five, and about as thick as a man's wrist. He held the snake in a firm grip just behind its head, and pushed it through the hole in the speculum. Slowly he pushed the snake further into her gaping cunt. This one was so much bigger than last time! He pushed more and more of the snake into her cunt, until about a quarter of its length was inside her. Then he closed the speculum and pulled it out. Her pussy closed so now its walls touched the snake. He continued to hold the snake firmly, making sure it couldn't escape, keeping at least 10 inches inside her. The movement of the serpent inside her was more than she could handle. Her whole body started to shake as she came. He didn't allow her any break though. As soon as she had calmed down a little, he began to use the snake on her as if it were a dildo. He was fucking her with a snake.  

***

So it wasn't unusual that Claire stayed with Madam and Steve after that night. What was unusual was that she never left. Without really asking, or being invited, she moved in with Madam and Steve one day and years later she was still there. But nobody complained. She seamlessly fitted herself into their lives, adapting to their lifestyle like she had done so many times before when housesitting. First she became their perfect houseguest, then she took the role of running the household. All the little daily nitty gritty Madam and Steve were ever so happy to leave to her.

And of course she became Madam's first slavegirl. Claire explained to Madam that she had always regarded her as a 'closet mistress'. She knew at least four or five other girls who agreed and who would love to submit to her, but none of them had ever had the courage to tell her. She was so happy to be the one to finally break the news.

The two women went on a journey, discovering step by step what they liked and what not. Her address book full of kinky fuck buddies, Claire had more experience. So first they replicated some of Claire's previous adventures. Then they set off on their own path, experimenting with just one rule: no matter how perverted, nothing was out of bounds until they'd tried it at least once.

Steve was happy to let the girls do their thing and be the beneficiary of most of their discoveries. He was too busy with his business to really become involved anyway. For Madam on the other hand, meeting Claire had been the beginning of the end of her business. One day, about half a year after Claire had moved in, she said to Steve: “I think I'm ready to sell the company. I think I've made my point by now.”

He knew exactly what she meant. Ambition had brought them together all those years ago. Succeeding in life and business had been the ultimate “fuck you” to the cheerleader bully bitches who had been stupid enough to marry their idiot quarterback boyfriends at 19 or so, only to find out he wasn't that good at football after all. So rather than the glamour of a multimillion dollar pro ball contract, these girls had ended up with a moron husband with no skills and a bunch of kids they had managed to produce in quick succession before they were grown up themselves. Forever locked in their hometowns. Living on the boulevard of broken dreams. Madam had been to a couple of school reunions and found them infinitely sad. She no longer needed revenge. Life had done that for her.

Their plan had always been to make a fortune before they were too old to enjoy the money. Fourty was the unspoken deadline. Now, at 37, she was ready for it. There had been approaches before, so when she let the word out through some backchannels that she may consider selling her shops if the deal was good enough, it didn't take long for the offers to roll in. It took a few months of negotiations to seal it, and in the end she sold the business for an amount that made her seriously wealthy, and financially independent (even from her soulmate Steve), for the rest of her life.

***

So this was how Madam found out she liked to dominate women, and how she discovered her gift.

Now that she knew what she was looking for, she could spot a submissive girl from a mile away. She never failed. She found them at parties, fashion shows, concerts, any place where there would be an assembly of young women. She once even discovered a gorgeous new sub in a football stadium, spotting her with binoculars all the way across the pitch. Often her discoveries were counter intuitive. It wouldn't be the wallflower somewhere in a corner, but the loudmouth who liked being at the centre of attention. Now that she was aware of it, Madam also realized there were many more subs than you'd think. In nearly any public place with more than a hundred women she would spot one. Having sold her company, she was now able to devote a lot of time and attention to her newfound hobby. She went for it with characteristic focus and zeal. Together with Claire she refurbished the basement, which covered the full floor area of the house, into a pleasure den. Then they went out hunting for girls. So many slaves, she thought, so little time.

They started with the four girls Claire had mentioned, the models who had agreed to Madam being a closet mistress. They took them in one by one. Madam trained them to be exactly the kind of slavegirls she wanted them to be. Beautiful, elegant, well behaved and educated, submissive and obedient. Ready and willing to serve Madam, Steve, or any other man or woman (or group of men or women) Madam designated, at any time and in any conceivable way. She turned them into the cock hungry painsluts they had always wanted to be. After their training she let them go again to carry on with their lives. Madam could call them back at any time though, for whatever reason, and she regularly did.

Next she went out to find other girls. The first time she was a bit nervous still. On a sunny afternoon she spotted a lovely, beautifully innocent looking blonde girl in a cafe, close to the university. She was sitting alone next to an open window, reading a book, oblivious of what went on around her. Probably a student. All Madam's instincts said this was one of them. She had to be a slavegirl. Madam took a deep breath and walked up to the girl. With a remark about the book she was reading Madam sat down next to her, uninvited, and started chatting her up. Once she was talking, the nerves were gone. And anyway, it couldn't have been easier. The girl was clinging onto every word she said, while giving off one non verbal signal after the other to indicate she was available and willing. Half an hour later they left the bar together. Madam invited the girl to her place, which she eagerly accepted. Back home they talked some more over a glass of wine. They were sitting on a couch. Madam had positioned herself quite close to her, now and then gently touching the girl's knee, arm or cheek. When Madam leaned in to kiss her all resistance, if ever there was any, was gone. Madam slowly undressed the girl, pealing off her clothes to reveal her nice body with small hips and perky breasts. Then she pulled her of the couch and with a hand at the small of her back marched her gently to the bedroom, Madam still fully dressed, the girl completely naked. As they stood by the side of the four poster bed, Madam whispered in the girl's ear: “Lie down on the bed, I'm going to tie you up.” The girl obeyed without hesitation, as if it was the most normal request from someone she'd just met an hour ago. Madam blindfolded the girl and tied her spread eagled to the big bed, arms and legs stretched wide apart. She took it slowly, one step at the time, careful not to spook the girl. She needn't have bothered. Every time Madam inflicted some form of light pain, pinching her nipples or pulling her labia, the girl responded with moans of pleasure and encouragement. The nipple clamps were welcomed with a genuine “Oh god, yes!” Just like the whip. She was like putty in her hands. By the time Madam had finished, the girl declared this was the best thing that ever happened to her and begged Madam to keep her. She even went down on her knees and kissed Madam's feet.

She still couldn't explain exactly how she did it, but all the other girls that followed were equally easy. As if they had been waiting their entire lives for this to happen, as if meeting Madam released them of the shackles of their inhibitions. It set them free. They could finally be themselves. Only to be shackled again or course, but this time literally.

At any given time, Madam would have two or three trainees. The training period usually lasted a few months. Madam would initiate them into the art of bondage, whip them with a multitude of different whips, inflict countless other forms of pain and humiliation and made them love every single one of them, and teach them to be the perfect whore for both men and women. Steve was still too busy with his business to be closely involved in all this. Madam needed a male to help her train her slaves, but he didn't have time for that. So Madam found another man to play this part. John, a wiry black man in his mid thirties, lived in the little house all the way in the back of their huge garden. He had been their gardener for some years, a task he took very seriously. He meticulously looked after the trees, plants, flowers, grass and swimming pool. Their garden always looked like an ad for a house and garden magazine. In his spare time however, John began to teach the trainees a few things about how to make a man happy. When Madam had first explained what she had in mind, he had looked a bit suspiciously, as if he didn't believe her. But soon enough he had warmed to the idea, and he became Madam's trusted assistant. Almost every evening Madam would send one of the girls over to the garden house for a training session with John. Soon he developed what could be called a curriculum, consisting of every sex act a good slavegirl should be able to perform properly to pleasure a man. They had to be able to swallow his massive 9 inch cock of course. Apart from taking him in their lovely throats, they also had to open up their cute little assholes for him. His huge cock would stretch them wider than they could ever have imagined. Some men liked to have their asses licked, so the girls had to practice that humiliating act on John's black ass as well. And of course he fucked them in every position conceivable. To ensure his discretion and to make sure he wouldn't take another job, Madam paid John a handsome salary. It made him the best paid, and happiest, gardener in town.

Through the years, many dozens of girls passed their house. Most stayed a few months; some, like Claire, much longer. All of them were very happy while they were there. After leaving, some of them ended up in similar relationships, finding a master or mistress elsewhere. Many of them returned to their normal lives afterwards. Some started families. But every single one of them returned in a flash whenever Madam gave them a call or sent them a message. This would regularly happen. They were completely devoted to her, for the rest of their lives.

Part VI: The dinner party

With Claire's help, Madam and Steve expanded their circle of friends considerably. Compared to their old friends, this was a new, different kind of people entirely. What connected them were their libertarian views and free spirits, their interesting walks of life and an insatiable appetite for unusual sexual experiences. They built up this new network very slowly, one at the time, to make sure that whoever they let into their house and their lives could be trusted. Discretion was highly valued, they didn't take any chances. But their new friends had strong ethics, and most of them had far too much to lose themselves to even consider some kiss and tell story. What happened at Madam's, stayed at Madam's.

About once a month Madam organised a dinner party. She would invite about eight to twelve guests, mostly couples, sometimes a few single people as well. Claire would supervise the kitchen and the waitresses, all staffed by Madam's trainee girls. Even the cook was a slavegirl. One day Madam had lunch at a slightly alternative but very good restaurant, when the chef came out of the kitchen briefly to talk to the customers, as chefs sometimes do. This one was female, in her late twenties, arms and shoulders and who knew where else full of tattoos. Madam watched her going from table to table, and by the time she reached hers it took Madam no more than a minute to seduce her. She had recognised the girl immediately as a sub, even though she looked and behaved all cool and self assured. Underneath the punk style toughness she found a very beautiful woman and an incredibly gentle soul. Two months later she quit her job at the restaurant and started to work full time for Madam and Steve. Whether she cooked for two or two hundred people, the food was always fantastic. All their friends knew that when you had a meal at Madam's, the food, and the wine, would be impeccable.

What made the dinner parties at Madam and Steve truly memorable however, was the entertainment. Without exception Madam would find a creative way to make it a memorable night. The only certainty was that, one way or another, it would involve sex and submission. Many special nights were held at their place. Getting an invitation was in some circles almost seen as some holy grail.

This evening there were four couples, ranging in age from late twenties to early sixties. Among them were Robert and Polly. Both of them in their mid fifties, they were professors at the university, he in english literature and she in chemistry. Claire had taken a course in english literature a few years back and had ended up having an affair with Robert. It was an open secret in academic circles that Robert had an affair with a different student each academic year. As soon as he discovered Claire in the back of the large lecture hall on the day classes started in September, he knew she was going to be his muse that year. Polly knew about Claire, and about all the other students before her. They had a completely open marriage. In fact, Polly did the same, but was much more discreet about it. She too carefully selected a handsome student each year for fun and games. She loved being fucked by her young studs. “It keeps me young at heart and body”, she'd say as she compared notes with Robert. Theirs was the house with the thousands of books Claire used to look after during their holidays, reading one after the other. Long after the affair with Robert was over, Claire remained friends with both of them. And slept with them sometimes. They were among the first people Claire had introduced to Madam.

It had been a lovely evening. Dinner conversation had been animated and lively, ranging from international politics to the philosophical insights of Winnie de Pooh. The food was great, as always. This evening it was served by two of Madam's gorgeous slavegirls, and, quite unusually,  two of Polly's former lovers. Madam had asked Polly if any of her toyboys would be into this kind of thing, and she immediately delivered. They were strikingly handsome, the one blond and sturdy and the other more Mediterranean, with olive skin, black hair and mysterious dark eyes. The two girls were Madam's current trainees, a coffee coloured ballroom dancer from Brazil and a rather shy girl with light skin and beautiful red hair. Later that evening, the four of them, and Claire, were going to be handed out as live take away gifts, each of them going home with one of the couples for a night of unbridled threeway sex. But the guests didn't know that yet.

The boys and girls were dressed in Roman style tunics. No underwear. The guests had been a bit touchy-feely with them all night, caressing bare legs and hands sliding underneath the tunics when they served the food and drinks. But other than that nothing untoward had happened, and as coffee was being served some of the regulars were beginning to wonder if there would be any entertainment at all that night.

Just when that thought popped up in some of the heads around the table, all lights went out. It was pitch dark for a few moments. Then a few spotlights were switched on, illuminating a path from the short end of the table all the way to the back of the room, some 15 yards or so. At the end stood a beautiful young woman, with oriental features and long, curly, raven black hair. She wore a trenchcoat, black stockings and six inch heels. When all eyes were focussed on her, she started walking towards the table as if she were on a catwalk, with determined steps, each foot carefully placed in front of the other, swaying her hips. Reaching the table, she looked at the dinner guests seductively, turned around and walked back, making sure all eyes were glued to her stunning ass. When she reached the spot she had started from, she slowly opened the trenchcoat, her back towards the guests, let it slide from her shoulders and threw it to a side. Underneath she wore an elegant grey skirt and a white blouse. She turned and walked to the guests again, striking a pose as she got to the table. She waited a few seconds to ensure everyone had a good look at her, then made another turn and slowly strode back to her starting point. Next she took off her blouse. When she turned once more, the guests were treated with a view of her gorgeous breasts, held together by a black lace see-through bra. She walked back to the table, her breasts bouncing ever so slightly. She stood still for few seconds again, all eyes glued on her tits. Then she turned once more and continued her striptease in the guise of a catwalk run, one by one taking off the skirt, her bra and her string, until she finally stopped at the table and waited. All she was wearing now were suspenders, her stockings and the heels.

Madam allowed the guests a few moments to examine her fantastic body. Her name was Layla, a lingerie model with Lebanese roots. Madam had discovered her at a lingerie fashion show. Her Arabian nights aura, with the mysterious black eyes, had fascinated but not fooled her: this was a girl in dire need of some discipline. Layla had spent the last six months at Madam and Steve's and had only just left the house a few weeks ago to live by herself again. She was very happy to be back this evening.

Her instructions had been to do the catwalk striptease and then wait for things to happen, so she didn't have any idea what would be next. The two boys were sitting on one knee on either side of her. They each put a bracelet around her anckle and tied them with a short chain to the legs of the table, spreading her legs and offering the guests an even better view of her cleanly shaven pussy. Out of habit she had crossed her arms behind her back, pushing out her fabulous tits. Then she waited.

Everybody was watching her, mesmerized by her beauty, so none of the guests noticed the man approaching from the other side. When he jumped on the table with a loud bang, they all got a fright. One of the women shrieked, and all of them turned their heads at the same time, as if they were watching a tennis match. On top of the opposite end of the long dinner table stood a stocky body builder, naked and oiled up, muscles flexing, his penis rock hard. He stood there like a Greek statue, making sure they all got a good view, especially the women. Then he walked slowly across the table towards Layla, his hard-on pointing at her, guiding him in the right direction. He stopped when his cock was inches away from her face. She got the hint. She placed her hands on his hips and opened her mouth. She bent forward a little and placed her red lips around the head of his not so long but exceptionally thick cock. Body builder arrogantly tapped the back of her head. The guests on the other end of the table moved their chairs so they could properly watch this little spectacle. They were not disappointed. Layla licked his shaft up and down, sucked his shaven balls, took his cock in her mouth like a cob of corn, massaged him gently, using her hands in all the right ways, licked the head of his cock with the tip of her tongue, took him in the back of her throat, and on and on, taking him to the brink of orgasm and then holding him back. She gave him a blowjob as if he were the love of her life, with all her heart and love and of course her immaculate skills. As she was sucking him off, she looked up at him with those dark eyes in which he nearly drowned, even when a couple of times he held her head and roughly fucked her face. Every time, after holding him back with her hand tight around the base of his shaft, she took his excitement a little further until at last with a loud groan he ejaculated a huge load on her face and tits. The expression on her face was one of complete happiness. She licked and swallowed as much cum as she could reach with her tongue. Then the body builder turned around and left as suddenly as he had appeared, jumped off the table with another loud bang and disappeared into the darkness. Layla was left with lots of semen still on her gorgeous breasts and face, waiting for what would come next.

She didn't have to wait long. At the end of the catwalk, where Layla had started her striptease, another figure appeared. It was a blonde woman, short haired, very tall. Her height was accentuated even more by her ridiculously high heeled, knee high leather boots. On top of that she wore a short latex pencil skirt and a a leather corset that only just covered the nipples of her enormous breasts, which were pushed high up. She had several tribal tattoos on her arms and shoulders. She looked downright scary. The woman walked the catwalk in a similar way as Layla had done, but slower, much slower, making sure each click of her towering heels was heard. Some of the women around the table gasped as she approached, as if they were irrationally fearing it might be them this menacing woman was coming for. The dominatrix stopped right behind Layla, who still couldn't see her. She did see the expressions on the faces of the guests however, who looked at the woman behind her in awe, and a little fear.

The dominatrix started to caress Layla's body with her fingers. First her back, her fingertips lightly touching the Middle Eastern girl's olive skin. Then her hands went around to her stomach, gliding over her vulva and up to her breasts. She was whispering little sentences in Layla's ear, her leather corset now touching the girl's back. Those who were sitting close enough could hear fragments of what she was saying to the girl: unveiled threats, descriptions of how badly she was going to hurt her.

“Soon you will beg for mercy,” she whispered. “I will tear your cute little tits off. ”

The dominatrix was by now using her long, red finger nails. Slowly long, red marks were beginning to appear on the girl's skin. She was grinding her hips against Layla's ass. She squeezed her tits hard, using her big hands to grab the base of Layla's breasts, deliberately hurting her some more. The pain was beginning to show on Layla's face. Suddenly dominatrix yanked Layla's long black hair down and sideways and kissed her hard on her mouth. All of a sudden the two were passionately kissing, although dominatrix' hands and nails were still making traces on Layla's skin. Still holding her hair, she dug the nails of her free hand deep into the nipple of Layla's left breast. The girl's squeal was muffled as their mouths were still locked. Dominatrix continued to torture the girl with her fingernails. She spent a particularly long time on Layla's labia, spreading her small cunt lips and digging her nails into them, from the outside as well as from the tender inside. Tears of pain were running down her cheeks and her body was full of deep red scratch marks.

When the dominatrix finally stopped, she looked at her audience for the first time. Madam had a bemused look on her face, clearly enjoying herself. The others seemed fascinated as well. The two boys and girls were standing between the guests. One of the women was openly, albeit absent mindedly, playing with the latin boy's half erect cock, slowly jerking him off. A man had laid his hand on the red haired girl's ass and left it there.

Dominatrix moved Layla's hands above her head. Then she grabbed her hair again, and slowly pushed her forward until she had draped her upper body on the table, her face to one side, arms stretched out in front of her, her legs still straight and tied to the table. Blond boy handed dominatrix an elbow length leather glove, which she put on her right hand. The fingers of the glove were cut, making her long red nails stick out. Next the boy gave her a very large, black dildo. She proceeded to screw the dildo onto the glove, right at her knuckles. Then she made a fist, and with a sadistic smile showed to her audience that the big dildo was now an extension of her arm. As if it wasn't clear enough what the next step was going to be, she made a few fistfucking movements over poor Layla's head. She positioned herself behind the girl, slapped her ass a few times with her other hand, and spread her ass cheeks wide. She put the colossal dildo at the entrance of Layla's pussy and began to push. When the girl realized how big this thing was, spreading her tight pussy beyond anything she had experienced before, her eyes opened wide. Dominatrix didn't take any prisoners. With the help of a little lubricant she quickly managed to push the dildo deep into Layla's pussy, ignoring the cries of agony from the girl. When it was in, she made sure to stand firmly on her feet, and began to mercilessly fuck the girl, fast and hard, her fist banging against Layla's pussy and ass. Stomping her. The more Layla suffered, the more dominatrix liked it. Her face lit up in ecstacy, as if she were having an orgasm right there. Perhaps she was. A few times it looked as if Layla was trying to get up, but Madam reached out before she could move and roughly pushed her down. To Layla it seemed to last forever, but in fact it was only after 10 minutes when dominatrix pulled out the dildo.

But she wasn't done yet. Next she placed the tip of the dildo against Layla's asshole. Before she even moved, the girl began to whimper loudly. “Oh no, please, not there!”

“Stop whining, you little cunt!”, dominatrix hissed. “Or I'll give you something to really scream about!”

Layla fell silent. Blond boy squirted some massage oil on Layla's ass and the dildo. And then she pushed again. The dildo, extending from her fist, made it look extra brutal. Slower this time, she twisted and turned and pushed the dildo into Layla's asshole. Layla had been fucked in her ass before, it had obviously been part of her training, but never by anything this huge. Her tight sphincter was stretched and stretched until finally it gave in. With a cry of victory dominatrix pushed the dildo in, with a cry of pain Layla responded. Another ten minutes of pain and humiliation followed, dominatrix fucking the girl's ass as hard and ruthlessly as she had fucked her pussy. Each time she rammed the dildo into Layla's tight hole, her fist banged full force against her buttocks, the impact nearly lifting her off her feet at times. Layla was clearly suffering immensely, her mouth open in agony, giving a desperate little squeal each time the giant dildo was rammed into her asshole. Then suddenly it was all over. Dominatrix pulled out one last time, waved the dildo proudly at the guests, turned around and was gone. Layla was still draped over the table, bathing in sweat, panting heavily, her face covered in tears and left over cum from the body builder.

Madam left her there for a moment. She faced her guests and asked in a light voice, as if nothing had happened: “Anyone for some more coffee?” They looked at her as if they had to awake from a trance. The one female guest was still holding latin boy's now rock hard cock, the girl with the red hair was standing in between a couple and had two fingers up her pussy.

“Yeah, I'll have some more please,” one of them said.

“Oh, and while she's here,” Madam said, pointing at Layla with and indifferent gesture of her hand, “if any of you guys, or girls for that matter, would like to have a go at her, be my guest...”

They needed no further encouragement. The man who had been fingering little redhead jumped up and stepped behind Layla, opened his pants and started to fuck her. One of the women climbed on the table, pulled up her skirt, lied down on her back and as she glided towards her, offering her bare pussy to Layla's face.

The next man took off his belt and whipped Layla's ass and back a few dozen times, while at the same time one of the women stroked her face and hair ever so gently and whispered sweet words to her. They all took turns, while the others were gathered around the table, drinking their coffee and chatting as if nothing unusual was going on, the atmosphere a bit surreal.

At the end of the evening all couples were given one of the boys or girls to take home for the night. Like goody bags at a children's party. Robert and Polly had laid a claim on the Brazilian girl, latin boy went home with the woman who had been jerking him off, and the little redhead was given to the couple who had been playing with her during the show. Most of them didn't sleep until morning.

Part VII: Julie and Boris

“Master...”

She waited until he acknowledged her. Many tears had been shed before they got it right. He had punished both girls relentlessly whenever they made a mistake. By now they hardly ever got it wrong. They knew when he was master and when he was Michael. When he was Michael they would have conversations like any other couple, or in their case triple. When he was master they had to wait until he allowed them to speak. When he did, he often placed them on their knees at his feet. Sometimes he completely ignored them so they had to wait, or didn't give them permission to speak at all.  But he could hear in Julie's voice she had something important to say to him.

He pointed at the floor beside him and waited until she had knelt down. “Yes Julie, what is it.”

“Master, you remember when we met, I told you about my friend Martha and her dog Boris?”

“How could I forget?”

“You told me to let you know if Martha ever invited me to her parents place again.”

Julie paused.

“And...”

“And so she did. Invite me. She sent me an email this morning. Her parents are on some trip around the world for six weeks, and she's looking after their house. She asked if I would like to come over next weekend to keep her company.”

“OK. You haven't replied yet, have you?”

“No master, I had to tell you first.”

“Good girl,” he said.

He looked into her eyes. “Well, it looks like one of your dreams might come true. You can answer your friend that you would love to come over.”

After a few moments of contemplation he added: “How would you get there?”

Julie had done her research: “There's a train from here to a little town some fourty minutes away from their place. She could pick me up there. The morning train arrives just before noon.”

“Allright. Tell her you'll arrive with that train on Saturday and you'll leave again on Sunday after lunch.”

Julie looked happy, smiling her wonderfully bright smile.

“Tell me more about Martha,” he ordered.

She thought for a moment. “I think the best way to describe her is to say that everything about Martha is big and loud,” she said. “First of all she's really tall, I think she's actually 6ft. And she has big hips and big tits.”

“As big as yours?”

“God no, much bigger,” Julie replied. “Twice the size.”

She continued: “She's not fat though. More... fleshy I think would be the right word. Curvy. She has big red hair, and lots of freckles. And she has a big mouth, she doesn't take shit from anybody. At first she intimidated me, but later we became good friends. She can be loud in a raucous, fun way. Always ready to party. In fact, she was universally seen as the biggest party animal in town during our college years. She can drink copious amounts of booze; I've seen her drink many a guy under the table. She's slept with an endless number of guys, and quite a few girls as well. Party and sex animal. But most of all, she has a big heart. I don't know anyone as generous and loyal as her. If I would call her now and say I'm in some kind of trouble, she'd drop everything, jump in her car and come rushing over. I've seen her do that a couple of times.“

“Were you one of the girls she had sex with?”

“No. We kissed once though. It was a typical Martha action. We were at a party, it was pretty wild, everybody was quite drunk, there was loud music, people were dancing. I was dancing too, a bit by myself really, when Martha appeared out of nowhere, came up to me and started grinding against me to the rhythm of the song. Nothing unusual, she'd done that before. Then suddenly she kissed me on the mouth. Her tongue slipped between my lips, she held my head with one hand and grabbed my ass with the other. She's bigger and stronger than me, so there was no escape. We did a full, passionate french kiss right there on the dancefloor, with lots of people around us. I think it lasted 30 seconds or so. Then she let go, yelled “God you look hot tonight” and danced away through the crowd. That was it. I didn't see her again that night, and we never spoke about it either. It was just something that had happened at a party. You know, things happen at parties...”

He nodded. “Indeed, things happen at parties.”

He looked at Julie: “Hearing all this, I think she might have plans for you this weekend.”

Julie agreed. “You're probably right.”

She looked at her master. “What do you want me to do?”

He smiled: “You do whatever Martha has in store for you. If she has a weekend full of wild lesbian sex in mind, go for it.”

“OK. What do I say if she asks if there is a boyfriend?”

“The truth. But not the whole truth,” he smiled. “Tell Martha you've met a guy. He's young, tall and handsome. You're dating him. The sex is amazing. He's very... creative in bed. Let her fill in the blanks herself. If she wants to know how creative, tell her he's blindfolded and tied you up once, and you loved it. You think he's great but you're not sure where it's going. Don't give her more though. She doesn't need to know all about us. Not yet, at least.”

“And... what about Boris?”, Julie asked in a timid voice.

He looked into her eyes. “If Martha wants you to fuck Boris, you will fuck Boris. After all, that's what you dream was about, wasn't it? So no backing out. Let Martha take the initiative, but make clear that you'll play along with whatever she comes up with. No matter how crazy or perverted. Let's see if you were right about her and Boris.”

He added: “Now you can finally show me what a bitch you really are.”

“Yes master,” Julie responded, still with some uncertaintly in her voice.

He had an afterthought “One more thing, Julie. You can tell Maki everything about Martha, including all that may happen next weekend. But not a word about Boris.”

“Why not, master?”

“Well, if things happen the way I foresee, and you do end up fucking Boris, I may be inclined to invite Martha and Boris over to our place one day. I'm curious about this girl. And while we're at it, we may want to introduce Boris to Maki.”

“But Maki hates dogs, she's scared of them.”

“Exactly,” he smiled.

It took her a few seconds before she got it.

“Oh, that is so wicked,” she said slowly, “so wicked.”

She carried on after a short silence: “You're fabulous. This is why I love and adore you so much, Master. You think ahead. You're like a chess player, always several moves ahead of the others. I love it! God, that is devious!”

***

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, promising to be a hot day, when the three of them drove off. They dropped Julie off at a train station two stops before the dusty town where Martha would pick her up. Julie travelled the last 20 minute leg by train so Martha would think she had come by rail all the way. Meanwhile he and Maki drove to the final destination to observe Julie being picked up by Martha. He wanted to have a visual of this girl. They found a small coffee place with a few wobbly tables outside on the pavement right across the little train station. It served remarkably good coffee. He watched from behind his sunglasses as Martha arrived in an old pickup truck. You couldn't miss her, even if you tried. Julie had been right, everything about this girl was big and loud. But she was attractive too, with surprisingly fine facial features underneath all that red hair and the freckles, and beautiful green eyes. With big, determined steps she walked into the railway station. Ten minutes later she and Julie exited the building and drove off.

He and Maki drove further south, back to the coast, where he had booked a room in a lovely B&B right at the beach. They had a wonderful weekend together. Strolling along the sandy white beach they discovered a small restaurant, not much more than an oversized wooden shack with a covered terrace and some deckchairs in the sand. They spent a long and lazy afternoon and evening swimming, reading, tanning, dozing, talking, eating and drinking. They were having half a dozen conversations at the same time again. After half a day they declared it the most relaxed place in the world. The food was wonderful, as were the cocktails, the deckchairs were comfortable, the waiters and the guests perfectly at ease, no one was in a hurry. Real luxury is being barefoot in a place like this and not going anywhere, he said, and Maki agreed.  They strolled back to the B&B where they made tender, lazy, half drunk love.

The next morning they started slowly and had a late outdoor breakfast, both of them all mellow and happy and content. As they were driving back to the dusty little town to pick up Julie, Maki said: “Thank you for a wonderful weekend. I expected some kind of surprise, but nothing like this.”

“What did you expect?”, he asked.

“I don't know, something with whips and chains, I guess.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“No, no,” she hurried to say, then smiled. “Not at all. Just surprised.”

They picked up Julie from the same tiny railway station where they had dropped her and started the drive home.

“So Julie, tell us about your weekend with Martha,” he said as they left the little town behind them.

“Oh, I had a great weekend,” Julie smiled her big smile. “When we arrived at the house, Martha told me to put on my bikini, saying we were going to spend all weekend around the swimming pool. So I changed quickly into my small, white bikini and when I walked into their garden, full of flowers, beautifully secluded and with a nice, large pool, she had set a table for lunch. She had made a green salad and a pasta salad, with freshly made bread and, of course, Martha being Martha, a bottle of excellent, cold white wine. We swam, had our lunch during which we polished off the bottle of wine and had another swim. She went in for another bottle of wine and we made ourselves comfortable on a big, double loungebed. Then she took a bottle of coconut oil and told me to lie on my stomach.

“You need protection from the sun, sweety,” she said.

“She started doing my legs, slowly, sensually massaging the oil into my calves and my thighs. When she reached my ass, she rolled up my bikini Brazilian style so it was nothing more than a g-string. She spent a lot of time making sure my ass was properly oiled. Then she continued doing my back, slowly working her way up. She was straddled on top of me now, sitting on my ass. I don't know if it was my imagination but I think she was making very small grinding movements with her hips. She unclipped my top to do my back and my shoulders. When that was finished, she leaned over, gave me a little kiss on my cheek and told me to turn over. She threw my top aside so now I was topless. She started with my legs again and worked her way up, sitting on her knees between my legs. The higher up my thighs she came, the more time she spent massaging me. She pushed up the sides of my bikini bottom so she could oil the skin just on either side of my pussy. Then up again, rubbing the oil on my stomach. When she reached my tits, she couldn't contain herself anymore. As she massaged them, she mumbled something like “God, your tits are glorious.” Then she leaned forward and kissed me. It was a kiss like the one I told you about, the one at the party, only this one lasted much longer. She was lying on top of me now, and I did nothing to discourage her. She got up for a second to unclip her own bikini top, so I got a full view from below of her massive tits. She came down again to kiss me but I leaned forward to take her nipple in my mouth, her huge warm breast covering my face as I sucked her nipple until it was hard, massaging her other breast with my hand. She was groping my tits with both hands. Then she kissed me again, resting her body on mine so our breasts touched. After a while she went down, kissing and licking my oily body until she reached my pussy. She pulled down my bikini bottom, I lifted my hips to help her. She started to eat my pussy. I was really horny and wet by now, and it didn't take long before I had my first orgasm.

“She came up again and kissed my mouth with my own pussy juice still on her lips and tongue. “Your turn,” she whispered hoarsely. So I did the same, kissing and licking and gently biting my way down, past her big tits to her pussy. She had shaven her red pubic hair in the form of a little heart. Didn't Marilyn Monroe do that once?”

Michael smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

Julie continued: ”She opened her legs wide, I found her clit and began to lick it. Soon after I pushed two fingers inside her pussy. She came almost immediately, but when I paused she said: “keep going!” So I pushed three fingers in, and then four. She had seemed quite tight at first but by now I was fucking her with part of my hand. I decided to see if I could take it one step further and added my thumb. With the help of the coconut oil I began to push my whole hand into her cunt. I was rubbing her clit with the thumb of my other hand, every now and then leaning forward to lick and suck it. She was going berzerk, jerking her head from side to side. I slid my hand in and out, each time a little further and then all of a sudden my hand slipped through and disappeared inside her cunt. Right to my wrist. I held still for a moment. She was panting, mumbling incomprehensibly, no doubt dirty language, waiting for me to continue. I stretched my fingers to feel the edges of her cunt. I could feel her ovaries, and for just a second touched them gently. Then I balled my hand into a fist and started to fistfuck her for real, my hand inside her and my wrist sliding in and out of her pussy. She went over the edge. I've never seen anyone have an orgasm as violent as this one. Her whole body was shaking and bucking, and she was almost literally tearing her hair out. It lasted at least a full minute, if not more.

“All we did for the rest of the afternoon was drink more wine, swim (although at some point I thought that wasn't such a good idea anymore, with all the wine we had), work on our tan and have sex. When she went to the kitchen to fetch the third bottle of wine, she came back saying she had a little surprise. She was all naked, and held her hands behind her back hiding whatever the surprise was. Then she showed one hand, holding a joint, and in the other she had the bottle of wine. “Just like the good old days,” she said. We used to smoke pot back in college. So we got a bit more drunk and a little stoned. We had more sex. At one point she was sitting on my face, her fleshy thighs smothering me, telling me to push my tongue inside her cunt. I couldn't move and could hardly breathe. But I liked it, and she knew. She was in charge, and she enjoyed that very, very much.

“Much later she went into the house again, and once more she came back with her hands behind her back saying she had a surprise. Not a little surprise but a big surprise this time, she said. She teased me a little, then showed what she was hiding: a big, black strap-on dildo. She made quite a show of strapping it on. It was a double dildo, one part to go inside her pussy while the other, larger dildo was in front of her. She held it in front of me and said: “Now here's something I've always wanted to say to someone.”

She waited a few seconds to add some drama. Then she said: “Suck my dick, bitch!”

She laughed her wild, crazy Martha laugh, but she was dead serious about her request. She pushed the dildo right in front of my face. I opened my mouth and licked it. I gave her a blowjob as if it were you, master. I think I really surprised her with my skills. The dildo was huge, but I managed to take it into my mouth all the way. It was way in the back of my throat, down my throat actually. She egged me on, saying things like “Yeah, suck that cock you filthy whore”, “take it down your throat, bitch”, and “look at you, you little deepthroating slut.” Then she turned me over on my hands and knees and fucked me, long and hard and mercilessly with that massive dildo.

“That evening she said to me that I had been number one on her Bucket sex list for quite some time. Apparently she had always wanted to fuck me but was never sure if I would let her. I guess during my college days I wouldn't have been ready for something like this, so maybe her timing was right. She said it was more than worth the wait.

“That was it basically,” Julie concluded. We slept in her bed last night, drunk and exhausted. This morning we took it easy. We were both a little hung over. No more sex. And now I'm here, happy but also very happy to be back with you guys,” she beamed.

They drove in silence for a while, all lost in their own thoughts. Then Julie asked: “So how was your weekend?”

“Why don't you tell her what we've been up to, Maki,” he said. Maki recounted their romantic weekend by the sea. When she was finished Julie said in a light voice. “I think I'm a little jealous. Sounds really great.”

“If you're a good girl, maybe I'll take you there as well sometime,” Michael said.

When they got home, Michael sent Maki to the kitchen to make dinner and took Julie to the bedroom. They parked themselves on the bed together.

“So tell me the rest of your adventure. Where was Boris?”, he said.

She continued her story. “When we arrived at the house I was prepared for him, but I didn't see or hear Boris for a long time. He just wasn't there. In the evening, after everything I told you in the car had happened, and after we'd had dinner, Martha disappeared for a little while. She had told me to just relax on the loungebed and I was happy to do so. It was still warm outside. I thought she was doing dishes or something. I was half asleep when she returned.

“Wake up sweety,” she said, “I have one last surprise for you.”

Before I could open my eyes I felt Boris' snout between my legs. He went straight for my pussy again, and since I was still naked there was nothing stopping him this time. He pushed so hard with his strong neck that he forced my legs open. Martha sat down next to me on the loungebed and said: ”Let him. I promise you won't regret it. Just lie back and enjoy. Spread your legs.”

I was lying on my back, resting on my elbows to see what was going on, but she pushed me gently back down with one hand while she said to Boris: “Lick her Boris, lick the little slut.”

I could feel the dog's tongue on my pussy, long and powerful and just a little bit sandpapery. He was licking my labia so forcefully he opened them with the strenght of his tongue. Martha helped him, reaching down and spreading my lips. He was licking the insides of my pussy now, my inner lips. Then Martha opened me up some more with her fingers and he got to my clit. It's hard to describe the feeling of a dog's tongue on my clit. It felt rough and a little painful, filthy but also incredibly hot. I exploded. It was sensational. As if fireworks went off in my head. I had like three orgasms in a row and begged Martha to stop him, but she just held me down and urged Boris on: “Keep licking the bitch, Boris, she deserves it.” Boris kept pushing his snout hard against my pussy. I couldn't get away from it, even if I had really wanted it. I was moaning and panting and coming non stop.

“Finally she made him stop. As I was catching my breath, she said: “I think Boris would like you to return the favour.” She pointed at his cock. It was hard and red and dripping with precum. I don't know how I came back to my senses so quickly, but I replied: “I'll do it if you do it first.”

She looked a little surprised, but then she just said “OK”, bent down with her head underneath the dog and took his cock in her mouth. She sucked it for about a minute before she came up again. “Your turn,” she said simply. She led the dog onto the loungebed. I turned myself so my head was under his body and now his big cock was suddenly right in front of my eyes. Martha was holding his cock with her hand to hold it still. I licked some of the precum off the tip. It tasted very salty. I went with my tongue from the tip to the base of his cock, all slippery red. I kissed Martha's hand which was holding his balls and the base of his cock. She just chuckled and said nothing. I went back with my lips to the tip and then let his cock slide into my mouth. It was really big for a dog but not enormous so I could easily take it all the way in. I slowly sucked him off. Boris clearly liked it. In spite of Martha holding him he was making fast fucking movements once in a while, trying to fuck my mouth.

“After a while Martha said: “Get on your hands and knees.” I forgot to ask her to do it first. She placed a little plastic sidetable under my stomach for stability, then guided the dog behind me.

She whispered: “I told you last time, Boris really likes you.”

Boris was ready to go. He mounted me, folded his front paws around my chest, crushing my tits, and started his fast fucking movements the way dogs do. His cock bounced against my legs and my ass. With a little help from Martha it slipped inside me. He immediately began to fuck me furiously. Dogs don't do slow starts I suppose. I felt his full weight upon me, he was very heavy. Without the side table I think I would have collapsed. He was panting fast in my ear, his mouth with these big jaws right behind my head, drooling in my neck.

Martha was encouraging him all the time, saying things like “fuck her Boris, fuck the bitch. She's your bitch Boris, take her.” I think she had trained him to respond to the words fuck and bitch, because every time she used those words he would pump even harder and faster than before.

I felt degraded and outrageously horny at the same time. It was the most humiliating thing I've ever done, but it also turned me on completely. Martha added to that feeling by using ever more degrading language. “Rape her, Boris,” she now said. “Rape the bitch.” He growled when she said that, very close to my ear, and for a moment I even felt his teeth in my neck as if he were really raping me. He fucked me even more aggressively. Finally I could feel him come inside me, spreading warm wetness inside my pussy. As he came, his cock swelled up at the base, making a knot. It stretched the opening of my pussy, hurting me very much. The knot was so big it made it impossible for his cock to be pulled out. He tried a few times, pulling me backwards with his big swollen cock, hurting me even more. Martha kept him in place though until the swelling was gone. It probably lasted a minute or so, but it seemed to take forever.

“After he pulled out Boris immediately disappeared. I collapsed on the bed. Martha lied down next to me and held me in her arms. She whispered in my ear: “I knew you wanted to do this. I could see it last time you were here. It turned you on, didn't it?  Boris senses these things. He knows if you're wet, even before you know it yourself. He's quite something, isn't he? He really fucks your brains out. Believe me, I know.”

“When I had recovered a little, I asked her what was the story with her and Boris. She told me that when she was a child, they had a similar dog she was very fond of. When it died, she was allowed to pick a new dog from a litter of puppies, and she chose Boris. Boris had always been her dog, they were inseparable. Living in the middle of absolutely nowhere, there were no boys when she grew up. The nearest neighbours live a mile and a half away, the nearest village is ten miles and the town where she picked me up from is 45 minutes by car. She was home schooled. Being an only child, it was pretty lonely, I guess. But her hormones didn't know all that, so she got more and more frustrated and horny and started looking for ways to satisfy her sexual needs. One day she was playing around with Boris in her room. She had just come from under the shower and was naked. She had been masturbating in the shower. Boris somehow noticed, pushed his snout between her legs and started to lick her. She felt really awkward first but she reclined on her bed and allowed it. The next day he did it again, and then she got the idea: if Boris is all there is, then Boris will have to do. So she took it from there, one step at the time, training him to be her fuckdog. Her parents never noticed because she was with Boris all the time anyway. Until she went to college, he was all she had.”

“Are you telling me she lost her virginity to Boris?”, he asked increduly.

“She didn't explicitly say so, but I think that's what happened,” she replied.

“Wow...” He let the thought linger. They were silent for a while. Then he asked Julie: “So how do you feel?”

“All right, I think. A bit confused. It was the most amazing experience. Disgusting in some ways, but also incredibly exciting. I'm glad you made me do this, make my most perverted fantasy come true.” She hugged him. “It makes me love and respect you even more. I'm very happy you are my master. I am proud to be your slavegirl. I hope I make you proud too.”

He petted her. “You've done very well. I am proud of you.”

She purred in his arms.

That evening he whipped her with a bullwhip, harder and longer than ever before.

Part VIII: Maki and Boris

Julie called Martha two days later - not too soon, he had instructed, let her wait a little - to thank her for a wonderful weekend. She had enjoyed every minute of it. Martha was happy to hear that. Perhaps Julie would like to come by again sometime soon? Julie hesitated a moment, then she said: “Well, you know what, I'd love to, but I'd rather do the opposite. You see, I've told my boyfriend, you know the guy I was telling you about. I've told him everything about our weekend. And he would like to invite you and Boris to come over for a weekend.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line.

“You told him about you and me, and about you and Boris?”, Martha finally asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“And he didn't mind?”

“No, he didn't. On the contrary, he seems fascinated. He said he would like to see this for himself.”

“Jezus!”, Martha replied.

Again she was silent for a moment. Then she said: “OK. And what do you think, are you fine with that?”

“Oh, absolutely! I would love the two of you to meet.”

They discussed this unexpected turn of events some more, and ultimately agreed Martha and Boris would make the trip two weeks later. Michael had listened in on their conversation with the second handset.

“Well done,” he said. “That promises to be a very special weekend. Fascinating indeed, my dear Julie!”

Martha and Boris were expected at about 3PM. He had arranged for Maki to be away that afternoon until after seven. Neither him nor Julie had said anything to Maki. He wanted Boris to be a surprise for her.

Right on time, Martha and her dog arrived noisily, the dog barking and the girls chatting excitedly. Boris behaved. He didn't push his snout at Julie's groin or show any other signs of arousal, Michael noticed. They had drinks in the garden and talked about all kinds of things, except the elephant - or rather the dog - in the room. After about an hour he said he'd like to talk to Martha in private.

“Can I trust Boris with Julie?”, he joked.

Martha laughed: “I think he'll behave. If not, Julie, just yell. Actually, maybe you should walk him. He's used to our open plot so at home we don't need to bother, but I wouldn't want him to mess in your beautiful garden.”

He poured Martha another drink and they made themselves comfortable in the living room, while Julie - a little apprehensive - went for a walk with Boris.

“You must have been a bit surprised when Julie confessed she had told me all about your adventures,” he said when they were alone.

“Well, I certainly didn't see that one coming,” Martha replied with a smile.

“Let me tell you about the nature of my relationship with Julie. It will explain why she informed me, and why we invited you.”

He told her all about him and Julie, and Maki. How they had ended up in a sado-masochistic love triangle which so far had been nothing but fantastic. How Julie had talked about her fantasy about Boris on the day they met. That he had known all along what was going to happen two weeks ago. And how he knew about Martha and Boris.

“So I thought I was playing Julie, while in fact you were playing me,” Martha stated with a hint of admiration in her voice.

“That's right,” he replied. “I had a pretty good idea what your plan was.”

He continued: “I invited you and Boris for several reasons. First I wanted to meet you in person. Julie's stories about you have fascinated me. Secondly I wanted to see you and Julie and Boris in action for myself. And finally, I want Boris to be a surprise for my other slavegirl Maki. She's scared of dogs. That's putting it mildly, actually, she's petrified of them. You'll meet Maki later tonight. In many ways she's perfection personified. I'm not kidding, she really is. That's great and I'm more than pleased with her, but sometimes I need her to be less than perfect. I have to find her weaknesses. Otherwise perfection becomes boring. I've found a few weaknesses already, but I think this could be the biggest one so far. We are going to take her completely out of her comfort zone tonight.”

“You want Boris to fuck Maki, who is scared of dogs,” Martha concluded.

“Exactly,” he said as he took a sip from his drink. He looked at her. She was wearing a summer dress that made her look quite slim for a girl this big. Yet the dress couldn't hide her huge tits which were contained in what had to be a very large push-up bra. Julie had been right, she was fleshy, not fat. Firm flesh, he imagined, and very beautiful in her own way. She was not so loud now either, he thought, a little timid even. 

She asked him lots of questions about what he did with Julie and Maki. How the relationship worked. She seemed intrigued with the bondage, the whips, the clamps, the humiliation. He wondered...

He decided to give it a shot: “Would you like to try?”

She hesitated. “You mean... I don't know. What would you do to me?”

“Any of the things I've just described to you.”

He looked into her green eyes with his own, steel blue ones. He knew he could have a hard, intimidating gaze. A gaze he could switch on and off. One moment his eyes could be warm and friendly, the next cold and hard. He sometimes used it in his job, when negotiations were tough. Martha couldn't hold his stare. She averted her eyes to the floor. Very softly she said: “I would like that.”

Julie hadn't returned from her walk with Boris yet. He took Martha to the bedroom, closed the door and made her go through the same routine as Julie and Maki on their first day: striptease, tie her arms and raise them, legs wide apart, whip her, get her on all fours, get the blowjob. When she bared her spectacular tits, his eyes went big. They were massive, even bigger that he had expected. Once he had her tied up, he spent quite some time playing with them, squeezing hard, pulling and twisting her nipples, weighing her breasts in his hands (how much do they weigh, he wondered), slapping them. These tits are begging, just begging for a whip, he thought to himself. When he got to that, he was elated. Watching the tip of the riding crop crash into the soft flesh of her enormous breasts, making them bounce up and down, was the most wonderful sight. Martha whimpered but otherwise bit her tongue. He could have continued all afternoon whipping her tits, but forced himself to stop after fifteen sharp, painful blows. Equally stunning was the view of her tits dangling between her elbows as she crawled toward him on her hands and knees. What a feast, he thought, as she opened her mouth and without the slightest effort took his 8 inch cock all the way down her throat.

“Tell me, how often can Boris perform?”, he asked her after she had cleaned his cum off her face and had come back to sit at his feet. “I mean, I want to see him fuck you and Julie, but if he's all spent after that he may not have the energy for Maki.”

“He's normally good for a few rounds. In the past however, when I was really horny, I've given him Viagra a couple of times to see what would happen.”

“And did it work?”

“You bet! He would fuck all night. Just didn't stop.” 

“You wouldn't have taken some of that stuff with you by any chance, would you?”

“As a matter of fact I would...”, she smiled triumphantly.

“Awesome!”, he said. “We'll give him some. Maki is in for a long night.”

After he had spent a few moments imagining what lay ahead for Maki, he had one last question. “When you and Boris arrived today, he didn't assault Julie as he had done all the other times. You know, go straight between her legs with his snout. Why not?”

“Oh, he doesn't normally do that, only when I give him a certain command,” Martha said dryly.

“Which you had given him when Julie visited the first time.”

She nodded. “Yep. I wondered what she would do. That was some kind of test, to see how she would react.”

“So if it was your idea all along to have Boris fuck Julie, why wait so long?”

“I had to find a moment when my parents wouldn't be home. That doesn't happen very often. Two weeks ago was the first time they're gone since Julie came over to the house with me last year.”

“Have you tried this with other girls?”

“No. Julie was the first and only one so far.”

Julie wasn't really surprised when he walked into the living room hand in hand with Martha. When she came back from the walk with Boris she had found the bedroom door closed. She had listened at the door for a moment and thought she heard familiar sounds. Martha gave Boris some food mixed with a little blue pill. Then it was time for the big Boris, Martha and Julie show, as he called it. The three of them didn't disappoint. Guided by Martha's commands, Boris licked the girl's cunts, had his cock sucked and fucked both of them. He'd never seen anything like it. It was deliciously perverted. Filthy and disgusting yet very exciting at the same time.

When Maki arrived, they were ready for her. The girls had cleaned up the mess they had made with Boris in the living room. They were having a drink and chatting as if nothing unusual was going on. Maki walked in breezily and unsuspecting, wearing the sexy short skirt and a little top he had told her to put on that morning. They introduced her to Martha.

“Oh, how nice to meet you, I've heard so much about you!”, Maki said as she gave a little wink to Julie. Martha just stood there and smiled, for once lost for words, taking in the amazing beauty of this half Asian girl.

After a few seconds Martha awoke from her daydream. She clicked her finger soflty. This was Boris' command. He emerged from behind the couch so sudden and fast it startled even Michael. Maki froze. Her expression changed instantly from happy and relaxed into pure fear and panick as this big, black and powerful creature barged toward her. Without any hesitation his snout went under her skirt and up to her crotch. The impact almost pushed her over. She screamed and nearly fell, but Michael was standing next to her and held her up with a hand behind her back. Instinctively she tried to close her legs and her hands moved down, wanting to protect her pussy, but the dog's big head was already in the way.

“Maki, this is Boris,” he said dryly. “Say hello to Boris.”

She didn't speak. Her vocal cords were blocked by the fear.

“Don't be rude, Maki,” he continued. “Boris is being nice to you.”

Still nothing. She was too frightened to move, let alone say anything. Meanwhile Boris was working hard to prise open her legs, pushing with his big head and powerful neck, panting furiously. Michael let go of her back, and she fell backwards on the couch. Falling down, she couldn't keep her legs closed and Boris immediately seized the moment. He pushed his wet nose against the thin fabric of her panty and started licking it. Maki tried to close her legs again but didn't manage.

Michael sat down next to her on the couch and said: “You're being very impolite to Boris, Maki. All he's trying to do is please you. The least you can do is acknowledge that. Open your legs, sweetheart.”

She looked at him completely startled, with big, frightened eyes. But she didn't move.

His voice went sharp: “Spread your legs. Now!”

Slowly she stopped trying to squeeze the dog's head away from her pussy and opened her legs. Boris was lapping away at her pussy now, still covered by the thin fabric of her panty. Michael reached for a pair of scissors on a side table and cut away her underwear. Martha had sat down on the floor beside Boris, softly whispering encouragements: “Good boy, Boris. Lick her beautiful pussy. It's all yours. She's a pretty little bitch, isn't she?”

Maki was still frozen with fear. She couldn't move. She had turned her head sideways and closed her eyes, perhaps in an attempt to pretend it wasn't happening. Michael wouldn't let her: “Open your eyes, Maki,” he said. “Look at how Boris is doing his best for you. Don't be ungrateful!”

He grabbed her hair and yanked up her head, forcing her to look down and watch Boris' head between her legs. Martha was opening her labia so his tongue could reach the more sensitive parts of her pussy. Michael watched as Boris' powerful tongue scraped her clit. At that moment Maki arched her back, and in a split second all her senses returned and went into overdrive. Fear, pain, pleasure and humiliation were battling for prominence. The dog's tongue had set her pussy on fire, but at the same time she started to cry uncontrollably. She had kept the fear inside and now it came out. Tears were running down her cheeks, making messy trails of black make-up.

They let Boris eat her pussy for a very long time. He was relentless, never stopping for one second, completely focussed on the task. Martha had trained him very well. Poor Maki went through a thousand emotions. The acute fear had slightly subsided, but she was still very scared. She didn't stop crying. Her humiliation was complete, especially because the dog gave her a handful of orgasms. A few times she tried to escape from the powerful grip of the dog between her legs and from Michael holding her by her hair, but she didn't stand a chance.

Finally the dog stopped, after a small sign from Martha. But Maki's predicament wasn't over. Indeed, it had only just begun. Still holding her hair, Michael dragged her to a footstool and laid her on her back, her head hanging down over the side. He had cut away the rest of her clothes as well, so she was completely naked now. Martha walked Boris around the footstool and made him stand with his front legs on either side of Maki's body on the stool, and with his hind legs on the floor behind her head. His big, red, dripping cock was right in front of Maki's upside down face.

Michael said: “I think Boris is trying to tell you something, Maki.”

She got the message. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth. Martha, still beside Boris, pushed him forward a little. She held Boris' cock in a firm grip at the base and manoeuvered it towards Maki's mouth. She stopped when the tip touched her lips, telling her to kiss it. Maki pouted her lips and they gently touched the slimy head of Boris' cock. She closed her eyes in disgust, but Michael noticed and told her to open them. “Good girl,” Martha whispered, “now lick it. Lick his glorious cock, little bitch.” Maki's tongue appeared and she began to lick the precum off the dog's shaft. “You see, Boris,” Martha added, “The little bitch likes you too. She's going to suck your beautiful big cock just now.” Michael watched Maki proudly; he had trained her well too.

Slowly Martha allowed Boris' cock to slide into the girls' mouth. “All the way in, sweety,” she whispered, “Boris likes a deepthroat as much as any other guy.” Maki gagged a few times. With his cock in her warm mouth, Boris got even more excited and started to make fucking movements with his hips. Martha held him back a few times, but then Michael indicated to let it go. Freed from Martha's grip, Boris began to fuck Maki's face with rapid movements. Lying on her back with her mouth wide open, the big black dog rammed his cock all the way into her throat. She was making choking sounds as his cock pushed past her uvula time and again. The chocking got worse when Boris came. Suddenly her mouth was full of slimy liquid. She desperately tried to swallow all of it as he kept squirting more and more into her throat. The knot at the base of his cock almost got stuck between her stretched jaws.

The blue pills did their work. Boris' cock remained rock hard, so they moved him around the footstool. They spread Maki's legs wide open and positioned Boris over the girl, his hind legs on the floor again and his front legs on either side of her breasts. Michael tied Maki's wrists together underneath the footstool so she wouldn't be able to escape. He put an extra cushion underneath her back, allowing Boris better access. With Martha's help, Boris pushed his big cock into Maki's tight pussy. Once in, he no longer needed any assistance. His cock stayed in and he fucked the girl remorselessly, hard and fast and deep. His big, black, menacing head was close to Maki's face, drool dripping on her forehead and cheeks. She tried to close her eyes again, but once more Michael wouldn't allow it. Tears were running down her pretty face again.

Martha was urging Boris on with ever more filthy language: “Fuck her, Boris. She's nothing but a whore. Your bitch. Do you want her? Fuck her little brains out. Stretch her tight cunt with your giant cock. She deserves it.”

They decided to scare the girl some more. At Michael's signal, Martha changed her tone and language somewhat. In a sharper voice than before, she said: “Rape the cunt, Boris. Rape the bitch. Rape her! Go on, rape!”

Boris bared his sharp teeth and growled, his head now very close to Maki's face. She was petrified, sobbing and crying “please please make it stop”, her face wet with tears. The dog fucked her even more furiously. When Martha told him once more to rape her, Boris opened his huge jaws, put them around Maki's neck and held her down. He didn't bite, but she could feel his sharp teeth in her neck. She very nearly passed out with fear. For a moment she thought the dog was going to kill her right there. In fact he easily could have. Then he let go of her and continued to fuck until he came inside her stretched pussy, spraying more warm liquid into her body.

It took Maki a long time to recover her senses. She cried and trembled, then was quiet for a while, then cried again. Finally Michael had enough. He slapped her face and told her to stop whining and put herself together. That helped. She calmed down and apologized to him. “I'm so sorry master, I didn't want to let you down. It won't happen again.”

“I certainly hope not, for your punishment would be unprecedented, I'm sure you realize that,” he retorted.

“Yes, master, I do.”

“Good, I'm glad to hear that. Because you and Boris are not done yet.”

She looked shocked but quickly refound her composure, willing herself not to let her master down again. She wondered what would be next.

She found out when Michael prepared the sleeping arrangements for the night. Martha had the honour to sleep in his bed. Julie would be on the floor next to them, her wrists tied to the steel ring over her head. Then he went to one of the guest rooms and came out with a matress, which he placed in the far corner of the master bedroom.

“This is where you and Boris will spend the night,” he said to Maki. “You'll be his bitch tonight. Literally. He thoroughly deserves it. And you too.”

He tied a collar around her neck. “So you won't forget,” he added.

Martha led Boris to the matress where he stretched comfortably, curiously looking around him to see what else was happening. Then Michael led Maki to him, pulling her along with his finger through the ring on her collar. He pulled her down on her hands and knees. She crawled onto the matress. She was naked, and there was no blanket.

Michael said: “If you want to keep warm, I suggest you cuddle up to Boris.”

She was still on her hands and knees, not knowing what to do next, looking up to him for guidance.

He added: “Also, Boris is still very horny. He's defenitely not done with you yet. So I want you to check every 2 hours, on the hour, starting at midnight, if he has an erection. If he does, you first suck him off and then you offer yourself and let him fuck you.”

She looked exceptionally miserable but tried very hard to keep a straight face. She curled up and lied down next to the dog.

He switched off the light and stepped into the bed, where Martha's large, warm body was awaiting him. He hugged her soft, firm, fleshy body. She smelled of body lotion. They started a whispered conversation. He didn't want to sleep yet. He wanted to witness Maki's first call, see what happens. He played with Martha's tits, gently stroking them, squeezing, sucking her nipples.

“Do you want to fuck?”, she whispered.

“Yes, but very quietly,” he wispered back.

Hardly making any sound they made love. They were lying on their sides like spoons. He made it difficult for her to keep quiet by pinching her nipples hard. But she managed. Only her breathing changed slightly, and she arched her back to allow his cock deeper inside her. He came without a sound, and then she did too. Everything got very sticky.

As they were relaxing after their fuck, he heard Maki stir. It was midnight. The room wasn't completely dark, so he could see in the shadows her hand reaching for Boris' cock. It must have been hard, for she turned around and started to suck it. She tried to make as little sound as possible, trying not to wake anybody up. Good girl, he thought, but pointless. As if anyone would be sleeping right now. He whispered in Martha's ear: “She giving him an blowjob.”

She smiled and nodded.

Boris kept his chemically enhanced boner until the next morning. Poor dog, he thought at some point, must be painful after a while. He heard Maki and Boris at 2 o' clock, at 4 and at 6, when in the early morning light he could see Boris riding Maki, who was struggling to stay on her elbows and knees under the weight of the heavy dog. After that, both Maki and Boris fell into an exhausted sleep and didn't wake up until after midday, still uncovered on the matress in the corner. They looked almost cute together, sleeping on their sides, Boris with one paw on Maki's hips. As always, Michael went through his Sunday morning routine as if nothing had happened. Martha took Maki's role when she and Julie gave him his four handed massage. She had strong hands; the massage was fantastic.

When they left after lunch, Martha promised to come visit again, with or without Boris. “Can I be your part-time slavegirl?”, she had asked him earlier.  She had admitted she was dominant with women, but submissive with men. “Well, some men,” she had added. “Men like you.”

“Of course you can,” he had replied, “you can come by anytime you like.”

Boris seemed to be sulking a bit when Martha pushed him into the pick-up truck. He had clearly had a great time. Maki was still a little scared of him, but she did pet him when they said goodbye and didn't back away when he sniffed her pussy for one last time. She took a long bath that afternoon.