1 comments/ 28732 views/ 7 favorites Chav Sex Ch. 01 By: Septimius_Severus Definition of Chav - from the 'Online Slang Dictionary' "Chavs are 'townies. Origin: UK. All are known fundamentally for being loudly low-class. The wearing of new, name brand athletic clothing and shoes, tacky Gold Jewelry (particularly hoop ear rings, large pendant necklaces, and gaudy rings) and, perhaps most importantly, Burberry are quite important. Associated with low level criminal activities and other crass/drunken misbehaviour, they are most often found in housing projects and other low-income neighborhoods." From 'Wiktionary' "The etymology is unclear, but the word probably has Romany origins -- compare Romany chavo 'male child', chavi 'female child', chal 'boy', chavvy 'mate, friend'. It thus may be related to charva (from Romany charver 'prostitute')... It seems to have originated in the south-east and may represent a development of, or influence from, certain towns names including Chatham (which has a Romany community)... As the word became more widespread, a variety of backronyms have also been suggested (Council Housed And Violent, Council House Associated Vermin, etc.), all equally unsubstantiated." * Chapter 1 - The Late Train August. I was on the late train from Charing Cross after an office party - the retirement do of a fellow partner at my law firm. I wasn't drunk, just merry, reading the Metro and listening to the other merry and drunken passengers returning home from a night on the town that sultry summer's evening. The train was fairly full, and two girls tottered down the carriage looking for a seat. They spotted the empty seats in front of me, and plonked themselves into them, giggling. I looked up from the paper and checked them out. The one that attracted me was blonde, skinny, short, maybe twenty. She was pretty in a hard way; her blue eyes were bright, her nose well formed (despite the stud in her left nostril), and her teeth only slightly crooked. Her long hair was piled up, 2 huge gold hoops hung from each of her ears. She wore a cheap floral summer frock, the hemline was very short showing her very white uncovered legs. She wore a simple gold chain on her left ankle, just hanging below a small, badly etched butterfly tattoo, and her small feet were encased in dirty white stilettos. In short, she was a Chav... and I was aroused. The friend, was about the same age, dark haired, plain, short and plump. This didn't stop her from wearing a light blue woolen top which was 1 size too small for her and a short white skirt. Her chubby legs were likewise adorned with ankle chain, ankle tattoo and white shoes. I concentrated my occasional glance from the paper on the blonde. They talked loudly about how ugly and feeble the blokes who had chatted them up in Convent Garden were, munched on the remains of a MacDonalds, and slowly calmed down as the train pulled out of the station. I ignored them for a while and concentrated on the paper. However after the train left Bromley, where many of the passengers had got off, I looked up and noted the blonde staring at me, a crooked smile on her face. I returned the smile and returned to the Sports section. A minute later, I looked up and she was whispering to her friend, who in turn looked at me almost sorrowfully. The blonde slouched in her seat, and raised her left foot to rest on my seat just to my right. I thought better of asking her to move it, and was in fact turned on. Knowing that I was being watched, I took my time looking at her scuffed shoe, her slim ankle and it's chain. I inspected the tattoo. My eyes slowly traced up her small but well formed leg. Her dress had ridden up her tiny thigh. I looked up, and saw them both staring at me: saying nothing. She parted her legs a fraction, and I returned my gaze to her leg. The dress had ridden up further and now I could just see a flash of white knickers. The blonde whispered something to the brunette, who in turn put her left arm around the blonde, and with her right hand raised the blonde's face to hers and then kissed her on the lips. Looking around, I saw that the only other passenger on the bank of seats on the other side of the carriage was sleeping. The kiss became more passionate, and soon turned French. They seemed to get a great deal of pleasure exposing their tongues and licking each other with extremely wet kisses - they had done this before. As they snogged, the brunette moved her right hand down into the blonde's dress and clasped her breast. The blonde tilted her face slightly towards me and looked me in the eye, she smiled as she lightly bit her girlfriends bottom lip. I became very aroused, I had given up pretending to read the paper, but used it to hide my raging hard on. I was sorely tempted to join in, if only by caressing the pale white leg next to me. I couldn't do it, despite their obvious lack of inhibitions, so I decided to play it cool. We came into Sevenoaks, and the girls stopped their embrace as the remaining passenger got off. Our carriage was now empty. As the train started again, the blonde whispered once more to her playmate, who nodded her head seriously. They resumed kissing, less deeply this time, but no less erotically. Slow touches of lips, prolonged intertwining of tongues - clearly for my benefit as well as theirs. The brunette's right hand moved this time to caress the blonde's left thigh. Slowly moving her hand up and down, but ever more up her dress. The blonde spread her legs to give her access. I could see her knickers clearly now. Then she surprised me by raising her right leg and placing the foot on the seat between my legs. This gave the brunette greater access, who moved her hand up to massage her cotton clad mound. With a little difficulty, the brunette eased aside the strip of material to get to the blonde's moist vagina. The blonde moaned in response, the kiss became more passionate, as the brunette continued to stimulate her clitoris, alternating that movement with occasional thrusts of two fingers into her vagina. After a couple of particularly forceful thrusts, the blonde pushed the brunette's head back and said hoarsely, in a Kent cockney accent: "You fat cunt, you will pay for that later." The blonde looked at me, while her girlfriend continued unabated. Her breathing was getting heavier, her tiny bosom rose and fell more quickly. She skillfully flicked off her right shoe, and to my absolute shock, drove her foot into my groin. Before I could think how best to respond, she released the pressure and started working my cock with her toes through my trousers. She smiled. I purposely didn't. She turned her attention to the brunette, and whispered: "Taste it, whore." The brunette obediently took out her fingers and started licking them. She replaced the fingers, then took them out for her blonde girlfriend, who licked them with pleasure. The blonde looked at me, her foot still working my cock (I had widened my legs considerably to help her), and asked: "Want some?" I merely nodded, and unbidden, the brunette finger-fucked the blonde some more, and then raised her chubby fingers to my face. I smelled the fecund aroma, roughly grasped her hand, slowly pushing her fingers into my mouth, and then sucking them out again. To me, at that intoxicated moment, it tasted like nectar. I held the brunette's hand longer. Squeezed it hard and looked into her eyes as she winced. With my other hand I grabbed her hair and drew her head to me, our faces only an inch apart. "Finish her off, bitch." Letting her go, the brunette obeyed my command, replaced her hand, and started working the blonde's clitoris with her thumb, while she continued to finger-fuck her. The blonde looked at me, her harsh smile on her face. She had found a kindred spirit. Without taking her eyes off me, she grabbed the brunette's hair and raised her head, so they could restart their kiss. Her orgasm didn't take long, she started groaning into the brunette's mouth. The kiss became passionate and wet. Saliva dripped from their mouths. Then suddenly, the blonde pulled apart, pushed her head back and bit her lip as she stifled a mighty wave of pleasure. They sat there for a while, breathing heavily, temporarily oblivious to the world, and then started to sort out their clothing. The brunette had lost her jocularity, her eyes were downcast, while the blonde, who had never really lost her composure, sat up, put her arm round the brunette, and idly fondled her massive breast. "Did you enjoy that?" She asked. Before I could answer, the train driver announced 'Maidstone East'. "This is where we get of mate, do you fancy a bit more?" My stop was further on at Ashford and I had a wife and family to go home to. I thought about it for a moment, then decided. "Yes." Chav Sex Ch. 02 Chapter 2 - The Council Flat As we walked the mile to their council estate, I discovered that the blonde was called Becky and the brunette was Michelle. The girls went hand in hand, but as we entered the estate, their hands parted. This simple act told me that their lesbianism was a secret in their community. I was beginning to get cold feet, it was late, and even though it would be the weekend, my wife would be worried where I was. However, as I walked behind and studied the Becky's little round bottom sensuously moving under her dress, I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do more than to have her. Michelle did not interest me, but I had never had 2 women at the same time before - it would be an experience. While Michelle was subdued, Becky wanted to know more about me. "So are you rich then? You look like it with your clobber." "I do OK," I responded, not wanting to give too much away. "We 'aven't got jobs, get money from the dole and benefits. Also shag a few of the lads 'round here for a few quid. Gives us enough to survive on for a few nights out, and hols' in Ibiza once a year. We love Ibiza. Cheap drink and drugs, and usually get laid every night... sometimes for money." "You're not expecting me to pay are you, because if that's the case, I'll be going home right now." "Nah, you are here for fun... besides, I need someone to help me punish Michelle." Their flat was a run down council owned dump. The girls, who shared it, had at least attempted to brighten it up, with posters of boy bands, and fairy lights on the walls. As soon as we got in, Becky turned to Michelle and slapped her hard on the cheek. "You fat cunt, next time I ask to be fucked, do it right!" "Yes, Bec," responded the subdued brunette. "Mistress." "Yes, Mistress." "Go clean yourself... and do it properly." While Michelle went to the bathroom, Becky poured us a couple whiskies from a half bottle she found in her kitchenette, and then led me to the bedroom. She sat on the bed, still with her stilettoes on, finished her whiskey, and said: "Come on mate, take off your jacket and tie, and give me a snog." I did so, sat down next to her and started kissing her. She kissed me as she had kissed Michelle, passionately, heavily using her tongue on me. Hungrily, I clasped her tits, groped her body, caressed her legs, down to her ankle chain. She in turn, felt for my cock, and after a bit of fumbling released it from my trousers. She stroked it roughly. I winced, and squeezed her breast hard, searching out her nipple through the bra, and pinching it. She stopped kissing me, and I could see in her face the realisation that she could not command me. This would be a battle of wills. He looked pensive for a second, then spat into her right hand and started stroking my cock more gently. As she did so I took off my clothes, and then clumsily helped her out of hers. Michelle came back into the room. Naked, smelling fresh from soap. "Come here, bitch," snarled Becky. As she approached, Becky stood up and roughly grabbing Michelle by the hair, spat on my cock, and then said to her, "suck it." Dutifully, Michelle, bent down and started on my prick. I was impressed to note that she immediately started to deep throat me. Long strokes with her mouth up and down the shaft, with sufficient pressure to arouse me further. Meanwhile, Becky and I restarted our kisses while she kept hold of Michelle's hair, forcing her head up and down my cock. I took the opportunity to grasp her left breast with one hand, and grab her right buttock cheek with my right. It was so small, it fitted nicely in my hand, with my index finger sitting in her crack. It found her anus, and I gently rubbed it. It seemed to turn her on. "Yeah, do that," she moaned. I took my hand away, and stuck the finger into her mouth to suck on, before replacing it on her bum. This time the lubricated finger slipped into her anus to the first joint with ease. This turned her on even more, and she became more forceful in pushing Michelle's bobbing head (caught between our bodies) onto my cock. Even Michelle's talented mouth couldn't cope, and she gagged a bit. "Fuckin' whore, you can do better than that," snarled Becky. She lifted up Michelle's head and spat in her face. And again. Michelle did not react to having her face covered in spittle, she just stooped there, compliant. "Prepare me slave," commanded Becky, and lying down on the bed, she thrust Michelle's face into her groin. Michelle immediately started tonguing her girlfriend's already damp vagina, which I noticed was totally shaven. I was faced with the choice of taking Michelle from behind or risking rejection by offering Becky my cock to suck. I chose the former option, despite not being into Michelle's fat body. She did have a well shaped arse, so I decided on the easy option. I slapped her backside. Hard. She gave a muffled yelp of pain, and pulled away from Michelle's cunt. Michelle immediately slapped her face. "Who told you to stop, bitch?" She forced Michelle's head back into her groin. and smiled at me. I recommenced spanking Michelle lightly on both her arse cheeks. Her bottom started to redden, her yelps became groans and moans. She was enjoying this. I roughly shoved my fingers into her hairy cunt, which was dripping wet, and after a few thrusts, started to twiddle her clit. More moans. I took my hand away, and parted her red backside cheeks to inspect her anus. It looked clean, she had indeed cleaned herself properly as Michelle had demanded. I spat on it, and then eased the lubricated finger of my right hand into it. She accepted it willingly. She was no virgin there. Encouraged, I slipped my larger forefinger into her bum as well, digging with both fingers deeper and deeper, until they were fully inserted. I then replaced my 2 smallest fingers into her vagina, so my hand was almost fully implanted into both her holes. "I've got my fingers up her arse, Becky, what do you think about that?" I said. "You're spoiling her. She loves it, and doesn't deserve it," Becky replied, huskily, as she started to approach her own orgasm from Michelle's tireless tonguing. "I'm not ready to come yet, Clean my bum-hole, bitch." Immediately, Michelle lifted Becky's arse a little, and started working her tongue into her anus. I could now see Becky's glistening unshaven vagina. She saw me looking and started to slowly work her own clitoris, smiling her hard smile at me as she did so. It was a wonderfully erotic sight. My cock was desperate for action, after so much foreplay, and I needed release. So I eased it into Michelle's vagina, taking out my fingers at the same time, but keeping the two in her bum going. It was slightly awkward, but I wanted to prepare her for my main course. She didn't seem to mind and indeed, started to grind her backside into my cock and my fingers. Her cunt was surprisingly tight, and encouraged by the sensations, I reached around with my spare hand and roughly grasped one of her pendulous breasts. Meanwhile, Becky had raised her legs above Michelle's shoulders and onto her back. As I thrust into Michelle, my chest lightly touched Becky's stiletto heels. It was time for the main event. I removed my fingers and cock from Michelle's holes, spat into her anus, and slapped her hard on her chubby bum for good measure. She yelped in surprise, looking round with a hurt look on her face. "Tell me to fuck you up the arse, you whore," I said. "Fuck me up the arse", she replied, softly. "Please," I added, "Please fuck me up the arse," she corrected. I spanked her again - hard. "Master!" "Please fuck me up the arse, Master". "My pleasure, you fat cunt", I said, and slowly eased my prick into her anus. She was well lubricated, and this clearly wasn't her first time. Even so, it was wonderfully tight, and I did not think I could hold out for long. Becky, meantime had extracted herself from her cramped position on the bed, and come round to be with me, watching me slowly increase the depth of my penetration into Michelle. I caressed Becky's tight little bum with my left hand, looked into her eyes as I teased her wet anus with my middle finger, before slipping it in right up to the second knuckle. We started to kiss, first, lightly, then more passionately as I increased my thrusts into Michelle. I finally reached maximum penetration into her arse, and only now did she start making little pained noises on each thrust. My climax came suddenly. After, one final, brutal thrust into Michelle, I removed my right hand from her hip, and snatched at Becky's left tit, cruelly tweaking her nipple, and digging my finger into her arse, all the way. I extracted my cock and roughly pushed Michelle aside, then collapsed on the bed. "Clean his cock, bitch", commanded Becky. Michelle, dutifully, moved around, and started licking and sucking my pungent, semen splattered, half hard penis. As she did so, Becky joined us on the bed and caressed my chest. We kissed gently. "I better go," I said. "Do you 'ave to?" she asked, showing more emotion than I had seen to date. "You haven't fucked me yet, and Michelle has still to be punished. It's taken me years to train her, and she actually likes it up the bum. You've spoilt her." It was a convincing argument, and I desperately wanted to possess Becky's little body. So I got up, and phoned home on my mobile. My wife would be in bed, so I left a message on the answer phone to the effect that I was so drunk from the office party, I decided to sleep it off in a hotel. She would have her suspicions, but would keep quiet. She too had been well trained. Chav Sex Ch. 03 Chapter 3 - Michelle's Punishment When I finished my call, I looked back at the bed, and was surprised to see both girls fast asleep. Looking out of the window onto the drab concrete grey of the apartment block, I noticed it was beginning to get light. Checking my watch, I saw it was just before four in the morning. Even though the sight of the naked girls asleep in each other's arms was stimulating, the long night and recent orgasm started to take it's toll, my desire abated and I lay down next to them, covered us with a sheet and soon, fell into a heavy sleep. ***** Too soon, I found myself awaking to the wonderful sensation of a warm and wet mouth engulfing my penis, making it stiffen and grow. The room was much lighter now, and I guessed it was mid-morning. Shaking the sleep from my eyes and my head, I noticed that my pleasurer was, once again, the adept Michelle. There was more to this girl than met the eye. Seeing me stir in more than one sense, she looked up from her ministrations, immediately replacing her mouth with her hand. "My mistress is taking a shower, I 'ave got to get you ready," she said softly. "I guess I should shower too," I replied. "You don't 'ave to. I like your smell," she said and without waiting for a response, slowly started licking me. Like a cat cleaning itself, she started with my testicles, before returning for a short while to my cock, deep throating with wet slurping noises, simultaneously pumping the shaft with her hand, as her head moved up and down. Almost reluctantly, she started up my hairy chest. I knew what would come next, and lifted my arms, as she greedily licked my fetid armpits. "Very good, slave," said Becky's now familiar voice of command from the bathroom door. She had showered, but not changed. She was naked except for her stilettos and her ankle chain. Her hair was still piled up, showing her huge gold hoops. One hand was on her hips, but in the other, to my shock and awe, was a huge black whip. Instead of one length of rope, it had multiple leather thongs, and a long leather handle, shaped like a phallus. This was no ordinary Ann Summers toy. I was spellbound at the sight of the tiny dominatrix. She had just trumped me in our battle of wills, and momentarily I desired to be at the end of her flogging. Michelle looked up at her mistresses voice, and shuddered involuntarily at the sight of the whip. Becky slowly advanced, turned the whip round in her hand and brutally thrust the phallic handle into Michelle's vagina. Becky yelped in surprise. "Now then, slave whore, get changed into our favourite outfit. And hurry," commanded Becky. Michelle swiftly departed. "Has my slave been good to you?" Becky asked me, as she straddled me, pushing my cock into her vagina, and then slowly moving up and down. "You have trained her well." "Call me 'Mistress'," she suggested. "How about I call you 'Chav cunt'," I replied. She slapped me hard on the face. I slapped her back. She drove down hard on my cock. I bucked up hard, and we succeeded in hurting each other. While she continued to fuck me, she put both hands on my throat, and I responded by mauling her tits and nipples. Our passion eased our anger, and we began to fuck passionately. I had never been so eroticised by such simple sex. Her cunt was small and tight. It fitted me like a glove. She bent forward and kissed me, deeply, like long time lovers. It was clear she was not totally in command here. But then, neither was I. I increased the pace of my thrusts, and she slowed hers down. "Slow down, mate, we must punish our slave first," she gasped. I decided to let her run things for now, and we settled down to a slow, sensual coupling, looking into each others eyes, and strangely, I felt myself falling in love. As we screwed, I caressed her skinny body, her tiny tits, and her neck with my hands. "Please, lover, let me be in charge just a little bit. Just for now," she whispered huskily in my ear, as if Michelle might overhear her pleading. I nodded, and she leaned forward and held down my wrists with her tiny hands, while dictating the pace of our lovemaking with her hips. I stopped thrusting and let her lead. She closed her eyes and her forehead knotted in concentration, biting her lips as she ground her mound and her clit on me. Moments later, she came, gently, and collapsed on my chest with a smile on her face. "You're a great shag for an old geezer," she said, in her best Kent cockney accent. "Good body too, how old are yer?" "45, but I play squash at lunchtimes, which keeps me fit. How old are you?" "19. So is Michelle. We went to school together. Got expelled together too at 15," she laughed. "What did you do?" I asked. My cock was still in her, and still unsated, I kept up small movements in and out of her sopping cunt. "I was her pimp," she grinned, "used to sell blow jobs round the bike sheds for a tenner a pop. Got caught by one of the teachers, and that was that. School is a waste of time anyway." Her hard face, which looked almost pretty while she had been reminiscing, suddenly took on a dark look, as she remembered that Michelle wasn't back. "Where are you, you fat cunt!" She shouted. "Get in 'ere now!" This one didn't play at being a dominatrix. Presently, a sheepish Michelle came to the door. She had transformed. She wore 4 inch black heels, black fishnet stockings, no knickers, a very tight black basque, which actually formed an hourglass out of her fat body. It lifted up her breasts, so that you saw a wide swathe of bosom, Her nipples were just visible. Clasped to her neck was a black collar, studded with fake jewels, like something you gave to your prize poodle. She had put on make up: plenty of mascara and bright red lipstick. "Turn around," Becky ordered. Michelle did so. Now that her waist had been accentuated, she looked more feminine. Her fleshy buttocks had been given a greater curve. I couldn't help but think they looked very spankable. Michelle had been transformed from a fat nondescript, chav into a voluptuous plaything. "I want to fuck her," I said plainly. "Not yet. I want to hurt her," came the brutal reply. Becky got up, picked up her phallic crop, and grabbed Michelle by the hair. Forcing her to bend over the bed. "Now, bitch, your punishment." She started whipping her on the buttocks, slowly, but with hard strokes, forcing little whimpers from her slave. Red marks appeared on Michelle's buttocks. "Mistress, no!" whispered Michelle, "it hurts." "It doesn't hurt enough, you cunt," came the cold reply. I agreed. I wanted to have her and to hurt her. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her head by her hair over to me. Forcing her to suck me, while she was being whipped. She did so. I reached under and grasped her breasts, sought out her hardened nipples and twisted them, hard and cruelly. She moaned in pain and shock. I forced her head hard down on my rod and she gagged. I held it down for a few seconds more, even though she gagged. I lifted her head up, slapped her face, spat in her mouth, and replaced it on my cock. At last, Becky, stopped the flaying. Turned the whip round and forced the phallic handle into Michelle's vagina. She started fucking her with it, with forceful strokes, making Michelle grunt with every entry. Becky leaned forward, grabbed my head with her free hand and we kissed. "You have permission to fuck her now," she said, "but you must finish by coming in me." I lay back on the bed and signaled Michelle to mount me. Dressed in the basque, she didn't seem too bad. It did a good job of hiding the folds of fat round her belly; and the fishnets, while cold to the touch, were slimming and accentuated the curves on her legs nicely. As she started fucking me slowly, I reached up, pulled her breasts out of the top of the basque and massaged them with my hands. I then lifted myself up to nibble her large nipples, biting them hard enough to make her wince. Then Becky did a surprising thing. She climbed onto the bed in her heels, and approached Michelle from behind, whip in hand. She tugged her head back with her hair, and then started lightly strapping her on her exposed back and shoulders. She pulled her hair further, so her head was tilted right back. The action forced my prick into a slightly uncomfortable angle, but I was too excited to care. Becky then started lightly whipping Michelle's breasts and nipples, reddening them. Despite Michelle's little yelps of pain at every lash, she too was clearly enjoying her punishment - her hand sought out her clitoris as she continued to grind herself on my cock. Becky forced open Michelle's mouth, and dribbled saliva into it. "Don't swallow it yet, bitch. Share it with my new lover - your new master." She then pushed her head down and Michelle and I had our first kiss. Her mouth overflowed with Becky's spit. I was both disgusted and turned on. We shared it and swallowed it, then continued to wetly kiss. As I looked into her eyes, I saw them suddenly widen and she gasped aloud. Behind her, Becky had her white stiletto planted on her bum, whip in hand, looking triumphantly down on us. Then a new pressure on my cock told me that she had inserted the heel into Michelle's anus! She then joined in our rhythm, pushing Michelle's bum on the upstroke, and releasing the pressure on the downstroke. Michelle continued to masturbate and kiss me at the same time. She was getting close, and frigged herself faster and faster. "Do I... have... permission... to come... Mistress?" she gasped. "Yes, cunt," came the curt reply. Michelle's orgasm was immediate and violent, but short-lived. Becky viciously pulled her hair and thrust her aside, and immediately got on top of my throbbing penis. But I had had enough of being told what to do. And I had been holding out for far too long myself. Desperate for both control and release, I picked up her skinny body with one hand under her bum. Sensing what I was about to do, she clung on to my neck as I swung her round so that I was on top and she had her back on the bed. I then slammed into her tiny cunt with all my might, looking into her eyes. She gasped at every drive, but held my gaze with cynical eyes. Indeed, challenging me to go harder, she entwined her skinny legs round my back, and contributed to my thrusts, occasionally raking me with her merciless heels. I responded in kind by driving the middle finger of my hand supporting her bum fully into her anus. Swiftly, I set up a rythmn where each thrust of my cock coincided with that of my finger. Becky's hard gaze suddenly melted, she looked away, widened her legs so that I could achieve greater penetration, and ground her groin and clitoris against me. We came together; Becky's: an intense but stifled moan; mine: noisy, barking with every spurt into her womb. As we lay there, sweaty, exhausted, my cock still in her vagina, my finger still in her arse, she eventually managed to quip: "Lets call it a draw." Chav Sex Ch. 04 Chapter 4 - Becky's Submission Over the following weeks, I couldn't get Becky out of my mind. I had never had such an intense sexual experience so soon after meeting someone. She and her girlfriend, Michelle, were so full of contradictions. Becky had been poorly brought up, poorly educated, had a poor life-style and no prospects; and yet had demonstrated a fantastic level of sexual maturity in one so young; a wisdom beyond her years, and a cruel streak a mile wide. I was besotted with her, I couldn't get the image of the tiny dominatrix and her whip out of my mind. I wanted to possess her. But I also wanted Michelle as our joint plaything. Obedient, compliant, submissive, Michelle. She who would do anything for Becky, and may do anything for me in the future. She too had complex sexual tastes and needs for her age. I assumed that their attitudes came from a life of easy, urban sex. It would have dulled their senses to ordinary sexual appetites and pleasures, and they must have craved ever more sophisticated adventures. Work and family commitments meant a gap of two weeks before I saw them again. When the opportunity came up, I decided to make it seem spontaneous, not wanting to show my hand so soon. My wife, Sarah, was planning to spend the weekend with the children at her parents' place in Buckinghamshire. She raised it on a Thursday and asked if I wanted to go, but I invented the pressures of my caseload at work as a reason to stay at home. She took forever to leave on the Saturday morning. I helped as best as I could with packing the car and getting the kids ready, but it was only the early afternoon before she departed. It was a beautiful, clear, early September day, slightly cool, but fresh. I am lean and fit, and many put me in my 30s. I dressed to suit that assumed age, jeans, short brown boots, a light shirt, open at the neck. I drove to Maidstone, stopping some way outside Becky and Michelle's council estate knowing my Mercedes S Class would never survive the visit. I called Becky on her mobile. She sounded surprised to hear me, almost as if she had forgotten our meeting on the train and its subsequent events. "I'm in Maidstone, doing some shopping, so thought I would look you up. Fancy doing something today?" I asked speculatively. "Well... alright," she slurred, I guessed she had been drinking. "I'm 'anging with me mates on the lawn in front of the flats." It didn't sound too good, and my fears were justified when I walked into her estate to see her and Michelle with a small gang of youths idling on some benches. The girls were dressed very differently to the last time I saw them, and I was appalled. Michelle, cigarette in hand, wore a white t-shirt which was far too small for her and which exposed her large belly. She wore an opened pink tracksuit top over it and black tracksuit pants. Excessive cheap gold jewelry and a Burberry baseball cap completed the awful picture. I was totally turned off by it. Becky had her hair in a facelift ponytail, she wore her usual huge hooped ear-rings and an all white tracksuit ensemble. The effect was not so terrible. But I could not understand why these kids dressed the way they did. I turned my attention to the boy who had his arm round her - a tall, slim, spotty teenager with a scrawny neck and baseball cap; mobile phone in one hand, he was shouting loudly at Michelle, while he groped Becky's body with the other. My anger bubbled up, I could barely contain my fury at seeing what I knew was a fact: that Becky shared her body with anybody and everybody. The other youths included another, very short boy, and a girl (no more than 17) holding on to a pram with a baby in it. They had all been drinking, empty alcopop bottles were scattered around the benches. I pitied their neighbours having to endure the continual noise from their loud, drunken exchanges; and was saddened for the child and the life it had been born into. As I walked up to them, a stony look on my face, Becky shouted out a crass greeting: "Oi, old geezer, giz a shag!" I didn't respond. Michelle looked fearful, sensing my anger, she kept quiet and didn't laugh at Becky's crudity. "Fuck off, you old git, you don't belong 'ere," barked the spotty boy. Bang. I blew. My left hand shot up and grabbed his skinny neck. I moved forward, pushing him back. I swung my leg behind his, tripping him up and, totally off-balance, he went down hard on the grass. The wind and fight had escaped him immediately. He looked at my clenched right fist with fear in his eyes. I pulled him back up, turned him around and kicked him hard in the backside. He went down again. I picked him up again, kicked him again, and he ran off. When I looked around with murder in my eyes, his little friend took off after him. The girl with the pram quietly ran off with it in a different direction, and Michelle started to back away. "What the fuck did you do that for?" yelled Becky. "Shut up, whore," I answered. My anger had not begun to ebb, I needed more violence, more opportunities to vent my rage, and went up to her and grabbed her brutally by her ponytail. "Ow, leave me alone, you wanker!" She shouted, possibly trying to put me off by causing a scene. I ignored her, turned to Michelle, and ordered: "you come too, you fat cunt". Then frog-marched Becky to their ground floor flat. No one came to their aid; the locals were probably used to this sort of fracas. Becky was not so easily cowed, and once we were in their apartment, she continued to mouth off expletives, ordering me to get out. I slapped her face. She tried to slap me back, but expecting it, I caught her arm. "You're nothing but a whore. I thought you were better than that, but you're just a disgusting, Chav, whore," I snarled. Surprisingly she smiled at that. She pulled down the zipper of her tracksuit showing off her tiny breasts held tightly in a white crop top. "You still want to fuck me though don't yer." Her change of tack caught me by surprise, and I took my time to respond. "Yes... I am going to fuck you. I am going to fuck you some manners." I pushed her onto the bed, and with one hand holding her down, I clumsily stripped her. It was an awkward situation. I was still fuming from the incident outside the flats, I wanted to punish her, I wanted to finally control her in our battle of wills; but being a lawyer, I also knew full well that what I was doing could be construed as rape. As she lay there, her slight body naked on the bed, her hard, cynical smile on her face, my fears were allayed as I could see she was enjoying the situation. She had given up resisting. Instead, she smiled, widened her skinny legs, put a finger to her bald mound, and started stroking her clit. "Come on then, fuck me. I've been thinking about it ever since last time. I need some of that old, experienced cock in me... now. I've been fucking Charlie, and he isn't man enough for me, not after you beat him up just now. Even when I was fucking him, I was thinking of you." "You just don't get it," I snarled unrelentingly, "you don't give me any orders any more. You and that fat, ugly cunt over there are my bitches. Isn't that right, slave?" I called out to Michelle. "Becky?" Michelle replied, confused, looking for direction. "Don't say anything, Michelle," commanded Becky. The smile gone. The desire for control returned. "Say it, slave," I retaliated, grasping Becky's hair harder, and now looking back at Michelle full in the face, "or you will get the thrashing of your life." Reluctantly, hesitatingly, Michelle bowed her head and mumbled: "yes, Master." "Strip, slave and get the whip," I ordered. Michelle went to the bathroom and I turned back to Becky, who had blanched when she heard me mention her whip. "You wouldn't dare," she said, very seriously. I ignored her and released her hair; my anger had abated. She didn't move, just lay there sprawled out on the bed, her small naked body, adorned only with her tacky hoops and ankle chain was so inviting, I had to hold myself back so as to continue to control the situation. Standing close to her, I took off my shirt, but nothing else. Looking at her all the while, I unzipped my fly, but did not release my penis. She unconsciously licked her lips. "Masturbate," I commanded. "Fuck you," she replied. There was still plenty of fight in her. "You certainly will," I said, turning her comment on its head. "You see, you are like a wild horse that needs to be broken. You've got plenty of spirit, which means it will be worse for you. But, Becky, my sweet Rebecca, there can only be one Master here." "Not a chance, old man." At which point, Michelle came back into the room, black leather whip in hand and naked. She seemed a little unused to holding it, and caressed the phallus shaped handle absentmindedly. "OK maybe we can work a deal regarding Michelle," I suggested, "she will be both yours and mine. But when I am here, your body; your mouth, your cunt and your arse are mine." As I said this, I sat next to her, and massaged her little tits, gently tweaking her nipples. Becky didn't respond, as she thought about it. She propped herself up on her elbows and as she was still slightly drunk, her head wobbled slightly. I traced my hand down her body to her clean mound, my middle finger seeking out and finding her clit. She moaned. I could see a tremor move up her body. I moved my face to hers, smelling the cheap alcohol and stale cigarettes on her breath. "Final offer. Your mouth is mine," I whispered, kissing her gently on her lips. "Your cunt is mine." I probed her vagina with my finger. "And your arse is mine." I moved my wet finger down to her hole, and started probing it. "And if you're good, you can enjoy my cock like before." Becky's head drunkenly wobbled again, and she half laughed. I felt I was winning her over. She bit her lip slightly as I worked my finger into her arse. "And what if I am not good?" Becky asked quietly, looking me in the eye. "Then I will have to break you," I said calmly. "FUCK YOU, YOU DIRTY OLD MAN," she shouted. But instead of extracting herself from my embrace, she started to grind her bottom onto my finger: taking charge again. My rage flared up as before. I extracted my finger, and wiped it on her breasts, leaving a faint brown stain. With ease, I flipped her over onto her front, and spanked her bottom hard. She yelped in surprise. "Hold her down!" I ordered Michelle, "Hold this bitch down." Michelle reluctantly came over, and gingerly held down Becky's arms. She had no trouble as she was so much bigger than her. Michelle's pendulous breasts swung in time to the spanking that I continued to give Becky, the slaps getting harder and harder and faster and faster. Her bottom started to redden. Every slap was accompanied by a yelp of pain. This was unknown territory for her. She started kicking out with her legs. "Hold her legs down," I told Michelle, and I held down Becky's wrists with one hand, while Michelle moved down to Becky's legs and held them down by the ankles. I took up the leather thonged whip. "At some point, you will call me 'Master'", I said, and started flailing her back with the whip. More yelps and squeals of pain came with every lash, albeit muffled as Becky was face down in a pillow. Little red marks appeared on her back, then small welts. "Say it, you fucking whore," I spoke into her ear. Still no response. I returned to whipping her bottom, which was already reddened by the earlier spanking. The yelps had stopped, replaced by moans and quivering groans. I stopped and flipped her over. I held her wrists down again, but the kicking had stopped. "Lick her," I told Michelle, who obediently got onto the bed and started licking Becky's cunt. Becky moaned, and licked her lips. I started lightly strapping her breasts with the whip. It increased her moaning. She moved her head from side to side. She was getting both pain and pleasure, and she was excited by it. I started lashing her harder on her tits, concentrating on her little bullet like nipples. "Fucking say it, you whore. Tell me you like this. Tell me who I am," I spat out with more urgency. God, she was hard. I was beginning to sweat from the exertion, but no word came from her lips, just moans. But my instincts were right, she was getting off on this and she lifted her legs to allow Michelle to lick her anus. Michelle instinctively went to do so. Angered, I gave Michelle one almighty swipe with the whip, making her scream in pain and shock. She looked at me with a hurt, questioning stare. What had she done wrong? "You are too used to doing what she wants, slave. Only do what I tell you to," I explained. "Step back." As Michelle, pulled away, I lifted one of Becky's legs by the ankle, and applied the whip to her crotch; flicking her shaven mound with the thongs, reddening it. This elicited more moans. I continued the thrashing over her whole body. Belting her hard on her legs, her belly, her breasts. She started to yelp now. "Fuck, it 'urts. You're 'urting me!" Panting, I handed the whip to Michelle, saying: "lick the end, and stick it up her arse... as far as you can." Michelle did as I commanded; licking the phallic handle and then easing it very slowly into Becky's anus. Becky winced and groaned. I slapped her face. "Shut up," I said, brutally. Then, releasing my rigid cock from my trousers, I entered her mouth. "Suck it, slave." Becky moaned and commenced pleasuring me. Her face was on the bed, sideways to me and the angle was not good. Her teeth grazed my skin, so I pulled out of her and slapped her again. I spat in her face, and slapped her once more. "No teeth, slave." Surprisingly, she nodded and reached for my cock again pulling me back into her mouth. I pushed her away. "What do you say?" I said, slapping her face lightly once more, and looking her directly in the eye. "Yes... Master." She was broken. And somehow, I lost some respect for her. But not my desire. I re-entered her mouth. This time gently, only giving her a couple of inches. I supported her head by holding her ponytail, and pushing it slightly into every stroke. Meanwhile Michelle was diligently working Becky's arse with the whip handle. I could see that she was pushing in a few inches, but there was not enough lubrication. "Use your mouth, Michelle," I commanded. She knew what I meant, extracted the handle and greedily sucked and licked the end. The dirty smell and taste of it did not seem to faze her. Perhaps liberated by what she had witnessed, she asked: "Can I lick her bum now, Master?" I nodded, and she lifted up Becky's legs and started to vigorously suck and tongue her puckered hole. She seemed insatiable. Eventually, she resumed exploiting Becky's arse with the whip handle, and it started to slide in more easily, three, then four, then five inches. Michelle, who had proven herself to be highly adept at the art of lovemaking, moved her head up to Becky's vagina and resumed teasing her clitoris. Becky moaned in pleasure. I looked on, one hand supporting Becky's head as she wanked me with her mouth, the other reaching to grasp Michelle's hair as she busied herself with Becky's cunt. The sight of Becky's tiny red striped body, and the sounds of the sucking, moaning women was a new peak of eroticism for me. I could think of nothing but to take Becky anally now and complete her submission. "You have done well, Michelle. You may satisfy yourself, while I fuck your mistress and my new slave," I said, a little patronisingly. "Thank-you, Master." She moved aside on the bed, lifted up her chubby legs, and started masturbating. With the other hand, she reached under her bum and started working a finger into her anus. I positioned myself in front of Becky, slowly lifted her feet over my shoulders, and eased my cock into her arse. I pushed her down so that her thighs were back onto her chest, while her feet hung over my shoulders and round the back of my neck. I leaned forward and we kissed, wetly, hungrily. I started fucking her harder, deeper, impaling her little body with my cock and my Will. She slipped a hand down to her crotch and I let her pleasure herself. Once again, our timing was immaculate and this time both of us noisily grunted out our joint orgasm. We continued fucking, slowing down from our crescendo. I barely noticed Michelle whimpering out the conclusion of her solo efforts beside us. "So, Rebecca," I said formally, "what do you say now." She looked me into my eyes. All trace of hardness in the face was gone. "Master. My mouth is yours, my cunt is yours and my arse is yours." Chav Sex Ch. 05 Chapter 5 -- Rebecca's Secret 3 months passed after Becky's taming. To me, the name Becky was redolent of the Chav slut that I had met in front of her flat with her friends. I called her Rebecca from then on, an altogether classier name, and to my mind, the formality of the name represented our formal relationship as Domine and Submissive. During this period, Rebecca, Michelle and I engaged in an all consuming game of master and slaves; where they sated my plentiful appetites; where I used and abused their bodies at will; and where I looked on as my devotees pleasured themselves and each other. Occasionally, when Rebecca had been particularly attentive to me, I would let her dominate Michelle, who seemed to gorge on the depravity by deliberately infuriating Rebecca, and rushing to get the phallic whip before she was even commanded to, which of course would anger Rebecca more. Rebecca would take out the humiliation of her submission on her submissive. She would be even more ferocious than before, thrashing Michelle with the whip at the smallest intransigence or misdemeanour; ravaging her anally with the handle; walking over her with her dirty white stilettos and forcing her to suck her dirty toes clean. During this period, they dispensed of their Chavvy friends, and I gave them money for decent clothing, food and drink so they wouldn't have to rely on casual prostitution to pay their way. It was an exciting period. However, as is the way with people like me, I began to tire of it, and realised that a major part of their attraction to me was their low class lifestyle, which I was busy trying to change. The challenge was evaporating; we had got ourselves into a routine, an unusual routine, but a routine nonetheless. But the routine was soon to change. One evening, when I had told my wife, Sarah, that I would be working late, and Michelle was in her bed with a cold; I lay in Rebecca's bed in a post coital stupor. Her back was cradled spoon-like within my body; my protective arms smothered her tiny form. "Who do you support?" she said, out of the blue. "West Ham, for my sins," I mumbled. "Scum," was the automatic reply, "there's only one team in London and that's Millwall". I took the opportunity to scratch her back viciously, leaving a harsh red mark: she winced satisfyingly. "My grand-dad supports West Ham, though. You should go to a match with him." "Why should I want to do that? I asked, incredulously, wondering what on earth I would have in common with an old man, whose grand-daughter I was sleeping with. She had mentioned her grandparents before, as they were her only relatives; her father, a soldier, had been killed in the first Iraq war, and her mother had died of a drugs overdose when she was young. "Well, he's interesting... you'll find you will have a lot to talk about," she said. There was caution in her voice, a certain hesitancy, as if she had raised the topic after some reflection. Alarm bells rang in my mind, but I was too tired to question her further. We dozed and I thought nothing of it. ***** A few days later, Rebecca raised the subject again on the phone. "Grand-dad is going to the game this Saturday. He's got 2 tickets and has invited you to go." "Why would he want to go to the game with a total stranger," I asked, somewhat flummoxed at Rebecca's insistence on this. "He wants to meet you. He is interested in you. You will have lots to talk about," she said, using the same sly voice from our last time in bed. "Why would he want to meet me? What does he know about me?" I asked, getting worried where this was going. "Oh for 'eavens sakes, don't worry. He knows about us, that's all," was her exasperated reply. "What! You've told him you are sleeping with a 45 year old man! "Don't worry. He's cool about it. It's not a problem." ***** I guess I was intrigued to meet this man who was happy for his grand-daughter sleep with older men. I sensed there was something darker behind it. And so I met Peter outside the front gates at Upton Park for the game against Manchester City. He was a trim, slender man. Good features, totally bald, and clean shaven; I knew he was 65, but he looked 55. His appearance surprised me: he didn't fit the stereotype of a working class West Ham supporter. We shook hands and had a drink at the "Boleyn" pub, before enduring our team's inevitable 3-1 drubbing. We got on well and, after the game, went to a quieter pub further up Green Street for a chat. "So," he said, after taking a sip of London Pride, "you're fucking my grand-daughter." It was a statement, not a question, but I was sort of prepared for it, albeit not in so abrupt a fashion, so I looked him in the eye and said, "yes." He smiled, and said, "yeah, she is good isn't she? She's the best." "And how would you know that?" I asked, indignantly, but suspecting the answer. "Because... I taught her everything she knows," he smiled again, with remarkable assurance. "In fact, you and I have one thing in common. We are the only ones who have subdued her... who can control her." So I had found another kindred spirit. A competitor or a partner? I awaited the suggestion that was sure to come. I was not fazed at all by the incestuous relationship between Rebecca and Peter. On the contrary, I was stimulated, turned on by the depravity. He did not know it, but I would accept anything he was about to suggest. "And what does Eleanor think of your relationship with Rebecca?" I probed, disingenuously. Eleanor was his wife. "Oh... she plays her part too," he smiled again. ***** It was Peter's birthday the following Thursday, and we agreed to meet up for a celebration meal at a Beefeater just outside Maidstone. He would bring Eleanor and both Rebecca and Michelle would be there. It was the Christmas season, and it was easy for me to tell Sarah that I would be very late at a client party. I insisted that the girls dress up for the occasion, with clothes that I had bought them. When I picked them up, they wore short, black cocktail dresses, black stockings and black high heels. Michelle looked faintly ridiculous in her dress, her bulges showing here and there. She wore her bright red lipstick, and the effect was of a fat tart on the pull. I told her to wear her jewelled dog collar. She looked at me pleadingly, knowing that she would be humiliated by other people on the estate and the restaurant seeing her look so... into bondage. I didn't care. She was my whore and plaything, and I wanted her to look like that. Rebecca, of course, looked great in the tight dress. She had her blonde hair piled up as usual and her omnipresent hoops. Once a Chav, always a Chav, I thought. We got to the Beefeater first, and soon after Peter and Eleanor arrived. He was dapper in a suit and tie. Eleanor (I noticed he did not call her Ellie or some other short name) could have been an older version of Rebecca, the familial resemblance was uncanny. She was petite with short, silver hair, and with the same hard-pretty face that Rebecca had. Of course, she had lines on her face, and dentures and looked her age, but she was in very good shape. She wore a fur that covered her down to her nylon covered knees, and she kept it on presumably to keep warm having come in from the cold. Peter immediately took control, organised our seating in our private booth; he would be in between Michelle and Rebecca, and I would sit next to Eleanor on the other side of the table. During the course of the meal, Eleanor appeared demure and quiet, and I sensed which part she had to play in their private lives. By the end of the meal, we had all had a few drinks, were pleasantly relaxed and the women a little bit tipsy. I noted that Peter's hands frequently went under the table, and I sensed he was groping both the girls' legs. "So, what do you think of my wife?" Peter eventually said. I looked at her. She looked back at me, a curious half smiling, half apprehensive look on her face; it was the look of a slave wondering who she had been sold to in the Roman forum. "She is a very pleasant and attractive woman, Peter, you are a lucky man." I replied, unperturbed by the question. "Do you want to fuck her?" He asked, as if it was the most normal question in the world. "Yes." "Why don't you test the goods... now," he suggested. "Reach into her coat. See what is on offer," he smiled his usual, confident smile. Amused, I did as he recommended. I discreetly reached down and caressed her slim ankle, then moved up her nylon clad leg into the fur coat. I got to her stocking top, found the suspender, and then her skinny bare thigh. What? Where was the dress? I moved further up her thigh. And established there was no dress! Eleanor had been well trained. As I guided my hand towards her crotch, she opened her legs, and, another surprise, my fingers touched her shaven mound of venus, unclad by panties. I smiled and ventured into her vagina and felt that it was well lubricated. I brushed over her clitoris, and stimulated it. It brought forth a very slight murmur from Eleanor. I moved my hand further upward; the few folds of skin over the belly were to be expected, and then, this time I was unsurprised by the feel of her tiny, slightly droopy breasts, unfettered by a bra, her nipples were small but rock hard. I took my hand away, and sniffed her earthly smell. "Excellent," I said, having completed my examination. "Well, I suggest we get back to our house right now," said Peter. The deal was done. ***** Peter and Eleanor lived in a semi in the north of Maidstone. A typical pensioner's abode: thick carpets, comfy sofas, and the heating was turned right up. We chat in the sofas and Peter told Eleanor to serve us drinks. Eleanor took off her coat, and calmly prepared a round of Gin and Tonics wearing nothing but her black stockings, suspenders and heels. I felt a familiar stirring in my pants at the sight of this little old lady serving us drinks in nothing but her lingerie. The girls sitting in the deep sofas, stocking tops peeping from under their short dresses, and drinking their Gin were, like the men, staring at Eleanor with desire in their eyes. When the drinks had been served, Peter said, "Eleanor, darling, please go get your toy and perform for us on the carpet." He was sitting between the girls, caressing and groping them without restraint. "Are you disgusted by this?" He asked me. "No," I replied, truthfully. He smiled at that, then turned to Rebecca and started kissing her vigorously, grasping her breasts through her dress. She returned his passion in kind, massaging his cock through his trousers, and kissing him deeply. That got me. This old man was taking liberties with my property. But I did nothing, other than vow to do worse to his wife. As they snogged, Eleanor returned with a small dildo and some lubricant. Without instruction from Peter, she lay on the carpet in front of me, and inserted the dildo into her vagina. She applied some lubricant on the fingers of her other hand, reached under her bottom and started probing her anus with one and then two fingers. Soon she was working both her cunt and her arse at the same time, all the while looking at me with a blank enigmatic face. I thought I had trained my wife, but this was a different level. Peter continued to control things. He broke off his kiss with Rebecca, saying "Michelle, give me one of your special blow jobs will you? Becky, I think your gran needs the candle treatment as preparation before she pleasures your new boyfriend." Michelle obeyed immediately, fumbling with Peter's flies, and releasing his slim, small cock. Without pause, she started deep-throating it to his evident pleasure. Becky also obeyed instantly, going to the kitchen and then coming back with a candle and a box of matches. She took off her dress, bra and knickers, so that she too was dressed like Eleanor in black stockings, suspenders and heels. She knelt behind her grand-mother and rested her head on her lap. It was such a bizarre sight, seeing these young and old versions of the same woman in this sexual context. Becky leaned over Eleanor and kissed her upside down on the mouth. "Now granny, I'm gonna 'ave to hurt you a bit, because grand-dad wants me to. You like a bit of pain though, don't you? You like to be his slut, and my slut and the slut of any one of our choosing, don't you?" Eleanor nodded. "You're such a whore, and mum was a whore and a crack-head, and I am a whore too," continued Rebecca. She had started to caress Eleanor's tits, and tweaking her nipples, hard, making Eleanor wince. Rebecca's dirty words were having an erotic effect on her audience. Peter had started forcing Michelle's head down on his cock, making her gag occasionally, but ignoring her struggles. Eleanor had increased the pace of her dildo, thrusting it energetically into her cunt. My cock was yearning for release from my trousers, and I unzipped my flies to let it out. Eleanor gasped when she saw it, used as she was to something smaller. "You want to suck that, don't you, granny whore? You want to take all seven inches? Well pain before pleasure," said Rebecca, now back into familiar territory as the dominatrix. She lit the candle, waited for the wax to run, then raising it above Eleanor's chest, she let the wax drip on her tits. Eleanor panted at every drip. Rebecca aimed directly at her nipples and Eleanor gasped louder. Rebecca then moved down her belly and onto her crotch, letting the wax drip onto the shaven mound. "Expose yourself, Eleanor," commanded Peter from the couch. She dutifully stopped pleasuring herself, and used her hands to spread open her labia, showing the redness of her cunt. Wax dripped into it, and onto her clitoris. "Aaaahhhhh," Eleanor let out an exquisite moan of both pain and pleasure. "Now you must do your duty to my new bloke, granny," Rebecca said. She smiled at me, blew out the candle, got up, came over and kissed me hard on the lips, slipping her tongue into my mouth. I got up and quickly stripped as we kissed. Eleanor came up to me on her knees, and prepared to take my cock in her mouth. "Not just yet, Eleanor," came Peter's authoritative voice, "give him your extra special gift. I want you to give him the works." "Do I have to, Peter?" replied Eleanor, "it's so humiliating." This was the first time I had heard her say anything that was against his will. "You must, Eleanor. And later you will pay for that little disobedience. You should know better." Reluctantly, Eleanor moved her hand to her mouth, fiddled a bit, and amazingly, took her teeth out! "Oh my God, that's gross!" I exclaimed, involuntarily. She looked like an old hag now. She hung her head down in shame. "Ha ha, it is isn't it," Peter laughed mercilessly, "but now you are going to get the best blow job you have ever had. To prove it, all of us will pleasure you... in order of ability." "All?" I said. "Yes, all. My little present to you. Don't worry, close your eyes, and you can't tell the difference." Peter got up, came over to me, bent down and started to suck my cock. I was appalled... appalled at my reaction, because my cock stiffened, and I was engulfed with confused emotions of revulsion at the homosexual act, and excitement at having this strange mouth sucking my cock. I closed my eyes, and hung on to Rebecca, kissing her passionately, brutally clasping her tits and her arse, as if to prove to myself that I was still straight. It wasn't a bad effort, and at a guess Peter took 3 inches before I felt his teeth. Next, Rebecca took his place, her small mouth engulfing the same amount, but at the same time, she wanked the lower part of the shaft as she sucked me, giving a better all round experience. Then Michelle came forward and swiftly took 5 inches, while caressing my testicles. She held a fantastic grip on my shaft with her mouth, only occasionally letting her teeth touch it. After a couple of minutes she released me, and I looked down at my throbbing tool, which was swamped in saliva. Eleanor then gently pulled my cock down as much as she could without hurting me, to give her access from her kneeling position. Slowly, it entered her maw, which looked cavernous without its teeth. Slowly, she took it, inch by inch. I was astounded to see all seven inches go into that tiny head. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and she used it to caress the underside of the shaft. Meanwhile she wiggled it between my arse cheeks and started to probe my anus. Eleanor then started moving her head in and out the full length of my cock, increasing the pressure on my shaft with her lips. With her spare hand, she masturbated me on each outstroke, moving up and down the shaft with a corkscrew motion, so that my cock was never left untended. She kept it well lubricated with copious amounts of spit. My own hand could not have done a better job. Her mouth was a deliciously warm, wet, tight cunt. It was extreme. It was fantastic. I wanted it to last forever, and yet I could feel the beginnings of an orgasm. "Slowly, you old hag," I said, at last beginning to assert myself. Not wanting to lose control of the situation, Peter, started dictating positions. He ordered the kneeling Eleanor to spread her legs and then told Michelle to get on all fours behind her and start working her bum with the dildo, which she did after applying more lube. Peter undressed, got behind Michelle, shoved her tight cocktail dress as far as he could up her chunky thighs, pulled aside her g-string and roughly entered her. "Becky, come here and prepare her for me," he commanded. I accepted that I was going to have to be second fiddle this night. Rebecca walked over to Michelle plump backside, opened the cheeks and spat into her sphincter. She probed it with her tongue, as Peter thrust into Michelle's cunt, then replaced her tongue with a couple of fingers as she and Peter resumed their earlier French kiss. The five of us kept up this chain of love for some minutes. The only sounds that could be heard were sucking and slurping noises, moans of pleasure, and the occasional slap on the Michelle's buttocks by Peter out of sheer perversity. "Michelle, is Eleanor ready?" asked Peter. "Yes, Master," came the quiet reply. "Becky, is Michelle ready?" "Yes, Master," responded Rebecca, who was switching between the roles of Dom and Sub with aplomb. "Then I suggest we move to the next phase. But first, Becky, fetch my crop, it's in the cupboard in my bedroom," Peter demanded, and then to me: "sit down, let's have a brief interlude." I sat down on the sofa as ordered, and he instructed Michelle to straddle me. I was desperately holding back my orgasm after Eleanor's wonderful ministrations. Once Michelle had impaled herself on my cock, Peter rubbed some lube into her arsehole, and eased his smaller member in. She winced and groaned and bit her lip with the double penetration. It was a tight fit, and with the weight of Michelle and Peter bearing down on me, I could not do anything but accept Peter's thrusts through Michelle. It was a new, strange, exciting sensation, feeling another man's cock rubbing against mine through her vaginal wall. Gradually, the remarkable Michelle warmed to the cock in her arse and started thrusting back on Peter. Somehow, I unleashed her massive breasts out of her cocktail dress and nuzzled her nipples. Peter, meanwhile, inserted his fingers into Michelle's dog collar and pulled back her head with it, suffocating her slightly, as he fucked her arse with short, savage, robust strokes.