5 comments/ 15521 views/ 8 favorites Living Arrangements Ch. 01 By: RedRavenBaltimore Chapter 1: Signing the Lease Disclaimer: These are consenting adults, even if it doesn't seem like it at every moment. I believe in the importance of safe sex, but might skip it for erotica between fictional characters. Amy idly brushed a loose strand of red-gold hair behind one ear, lost in a daydream. She was thinking of Patrick. They had been dating for less than two weeks, but it already seemed hard to imagine being without him. She thought of the chiseled muscle of his chest and arms, his thin lips, sometimes set in an earnest line, sometimes quirking up in a mocking smile under those piercing green eyes surrounded by tiny smile lines. She thought of the slight curl of his glossy black hair, his lean legs and perfect butt in tight jeans, and those long fingers that knew just what to do, and she shivered a little standing behind the Taco Bell cash register. They had met at a college party, and she had given it up that night. She blushed to herself, thinking she was usually such a good girl. But she remembered tugging him by the arm, pulling him down into her kiss in the spare bedroom, spreading her legs eagerly and fumbling with his zipper. And when he took her, hard and slow, the way he stretched her and made her burn all over. It wasn't the jungle punch, or at least not mostly that. He was perfect, well spoken and polite and attentive. He had a good job and fantastic looks and the air of a man who knows and demands just what he likes. It just wasn't fair that her parents couldn't approve. He was only thirty, it's not like he was old enough to be her father. It was past time she moved out anyhow. She had graduated high school, decided to put off college and have some fun. But by the time she made her car payments and maybe went to the mall and the movies once or twice there just wasn't much paycheck left. She glanced over at her reflection in the glass of the drive-thru window. Her narrow waist and proud chest looked good even in a purple uniform. She was a natural ginger, with pouty lips like a movie star and baby blues under long lashes. And she wasn't stupid; she just liked to have a little bit of fun. Why was she stuck here in this dull fast food hell? She glanced up at the clock: only eighty-six minutes to the end of her shift. Then maybe she could see Patrick, or at least get away from here. Maybe there would be another customer soon. Patrick was thinking about Amy too, but he wasn't thinking about their future. He was trying to decide how to break things off without hurting the girl too badly. It was a shame really; she was a natural redhead, with silky pubes and a pussy that could squeeze like a honeyed vise. Her breasts were a good handful, and perky with big areolas and nipples that stood up at attention before he ever kissed them. She was a ten and knew it, but acted more like a cute, sexy kid than any kind of ice queen. But he was thirty and she was nineteen, still living at home and working Taco Bell. He was moving up at the office, and thinking about buying a house. Her parents thought he was robbing their cradle. She still had a curfew! And every time he went to pick her up he imagined her Dad getting out a shotgun. Even if that wasn't a problem, she still thought it was exciting to be able to drink a beer. Her plans didn't go much past the weekend. Did they really have any kind of future as a pair? No, she was a sweet, sweet fuck, but that's all she was going to be. It's better to get this over with before the girl gets too attached. She was already getting all starry-eyed. Soon she'd be window shopping for engagement rings. He pulled out his phone and sent her a text, asking her to come to his place after work to talk. He was only a little surprised when her response came back in under ten seconds: "YES! XOXO" Amy had brought a change of clothes to work just in case, and as soon as she punched the clock she made a quick dash to the bathroom to change. The underwear was the most important thing, because the clothes would be coming off. She slipped into a matching push up and thong panties, black with a little lace, setting the ladies up and in place. She had chosen a tight green angora sweater that wasn't the least bit slutty, but still left nothing to the imagination, and a loose black skirt cut just above the knee. It would be just perfect for him to slide his hands under. A pair of black strappy heels finished the look. At five four, there was no chance she'd be taller than his six feet. She had worn a little makeup to work, but she painted on some bright red lip liner and was ready to go. Driving her Neon over to his apartment, it occurred to her to wonder what he wanted to talk about. "Maybe he is freaked out about my parents? That doesn't make me happy either," she thought to herself. "It would be perfect if I could just move in with him. It is way too soon to ask, though, isn't it?" She dismissed that thought, but then she came back to it and turned it over in her head. "Maybe if I asked him real nicely he would say yes. I could scare him away, but he likes me. At worst he'll just say no, right?" She resolved to ask him about it. It made her nervous and she felt goose bumps at the idea he might say yes. He didn't kiss her when she came in, and that made her pout a little and wonder if he had bad news. He did definitely look her up and down though, and he liked what he saw. "Hi Amy! Have a seat." He patted the love seat next to him. "We should talk." There was something about his tone, she didn't like, but she decided to go forward with her plan. Why not? "Alright, love. Actually I wanted to talk to you, too." "You did?" He seemed quite surprised by her announcement, but she plunged ahead. "I was wondering if..." She paused, gathering her courage, and then started again. "I know my parents haven't gotten used to us dating yet, and they're a little..." That seemed like the wrong way to start, so she just blurted it out. "I was wondering if I could move in here?" He was silent for a long pause, and she rushed in to fill the silence, talking quickly. "I know it's really soon and we haven't been dating very long, but if I moved out of my parents house then they wouldn't have anything to say about it. And, and I've wanted to move out for a while already, but every place wants a security deposit and a whole month's rent in advance and I just..." She trailed off and decided to give him doe eyes and the pleading, pouting look she used to give her parents when she wanted candy at the grocery store check out. He didn't answer for a while. Patrick was thinking it over. This girl was smoking hot. He'd have plenty of fabulous sex for a little while if he said yes. But did he really want a nineteen year old live in? Would this be the end of poker nights and watching football in his boxers? What if he couldn't stand her when he got to know her better? She seemed both cute and sweet, but there was only so much you could learn from a few conversations. He looked her up and down, hesitating. She had her leg curled under her on his love seat, skirt hiked up on her perfect thigh. Her tits were pressing out on the fabric of her sweater like an invitation, and she was looking up at him with big, blue eyes, waiting for his decision. Could he really say no? Suddenly a sneaky, crafty thought came into his mind. She was begging him to let her move in. If she was really serious, she would agree to whatever he liked. He could be really unreasonable, and it wouldn't matter. If she got furious and stormed off, it would be 'mission accomplished'. He picked up a notebook and a pen from the coffee table and flipped it open to a blank page. He looked at her pleading face again, and his heart melted just a little. But he did his best to try to sound very serious and a little stern when he finally spoke. "You are right, it is very soon. We have hardly begun to really get to know each other." He paused for a long moment. "If you are going to move in here, we will have to have a lease agreement, too." The smile that lit up her face was dazzling, and he almost wanted to toss aside the notebook. But he didn't. "That's alright of course. Thank you!" She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him, but something in his look told her it wasn't time yet. "I am going to write up our lease agreement one item at a time. I want you to read each one out loud and then initial it to show you agree. We can print out two copies later, okay?" She looked at him very earnestly and nodded okay. He grinned, half to himself and half to her and started writing. He wondered how many items he would get through before she slapped him and walked out. He handed her the notebook and she read the first item. "In this agreement, "you" refers to Patrick and "I" or "me" refers to Amy." Amy looked at Patrick, puzzled for a moment, before going on. "One. You agree that I may live at your place. I agree that while I am living under your roof I will follow all your rules." He watched her closely. Her face flared with anger and he smiled at her, daring her to object. "That sounds like something my Dad would say" she objected. His smile didn't slip a bit. "I am not your Dad." He made eye contact, wondering if she would give up this quickly. She blushed and her gaze dropped. "No, you aren't" she mumbled. "Alright." She initialed the line and handed it back quickly. Now for something just a little more fun, he thought to himself. He scribbled a second line and handed it back. "Two. I will contribute half of each of my paychecks to your beer fund." She looked a little shocked, but thought about it for a moment and initialed it. She smiled weakly and asked "You will feed me, I hope?" He nodded and took the notebook back from her. Patrick prepared himself to be slapped and thought 'now for the fun part'. He wrote out the third item. "Three." She read it and choked a little. "Are you serious?" "Yes. It seems perfectly reasonable to me." She glared daggers at him, but went on. "Three. Instead of paying you rent, I will give good head whenever I am told to and my pussy and my asshole will always be available for your use." She stopped and looked at him. "You want me to pay rent in sex?" He didn't even blink. "Yes, and it had better be good sex or you'll be out on your ass." He didn't let it show, but he was grinning inside. This would be the moment when she walked out. Hopefully there wouldn't be too much yelling and screaming first. But, much to his surprise, she thought about it for a moment, initialed it and handed it back. He had been sure she wouldn't stand for that one! Alright, what else could he add to the agreement? He had beer money and unlimited sex. He wrote down item four and handed it back. Amy read his next demand and nearly dropped the notebook. How did he know? She read out loud in a quavering voice "Four. If I break any of the first three rules, or if I anger you in any way, you have the right to whip my ass. If I behave like a naughty child, you should deal with me like one." She bit her lip and looked down. How many times had she bent over for her Dad's paddle and wished that it had been someone more interesting? For as long as she could remember she had dreamed about a man who could command her and punish her and do with her exactly what he wanted. But she hadn't ever told anyone. How did he know? She crossed her legs, trying to hide her excitement but revealing it instead. She initialed the line and handed it back, shyly. She looked up at him, expecting him to write his next command. But instead he was just looking at her, dumbfounded. He didn't even look happy. Wasn't this what he wanted? If he didn't want it maybe he didn't think she would agree and he wanted her gone. Was that it? Or maybe that is what he wanted; he just didn't think he could have it. Yes, that was it. Amy looked at him with some sympathy. "Are there more?" she asked very sweetly. "No, I think that will do." He seemed rather surprised. "May I write some more?" she asked. He seemed rather surprised, but handed her the notebook with a nod. She looked at him thoughtfully. He wasn't happy. What was the point if he wasn't going to enjoy it? And what was she going to write? She hadn't thought that through. To buy some time, she wrote "Lease Agreement" across the top. I'm not really leasing an apartment, she thought to herself. He is leasing me. She felt very warm and a little flushed at that thought, but it gave her an idea of how to continue. She looked up and made eye contact, faking more confidence than she felt. "Five. This agreement will be for one year for the date of signing. If you are tired of me after one year, you may end this agreement." She looked at him and smiled and went on with a pause to show it was no longer part of the agreement: "I won't be tired of you." She saw him smile. Maybe he didn't believe that anyone would agree to this. But she would. She would show him just how perfect she could be. But there was one thing. "Six. You will look after my well-being and welfare as well as you reasonably can." Pause. "I'll want you to initial that one." He nodded and initialed line six and handed the notebook back. She smiled at him, relieved. Very suddenly she wondered what she was getting into. Was this a good idea? She didn't show it to Patrick, but she grinned naughtily to herself. It's too late now. Now is the time to commit. She wrote a bit and looked Patrick directly in the eye to deliver the last item. "Seven. I agree to pay you a security deposit. I will pay you one month's rent in advance in good head, and the use of my pussy and asshole. You will decide when you have received enough. You will also have the right to whip my ass to your satisfaction twice before I move in: once to show me what it feels like, and twice to show me how serious you are about your rules being followed." After reading that line, she smiled confidently at Patrick and initialed it with a flourish. "Will there be anything else?" she asked saucily. Patrick looked at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief. Was she for real? Well, there was only one way to find out. He snapped his fingers. "Yes. On your knees." He pointed to the floor at his feet. She dropped gracefully to an easy kneel at his feet, and instinctively looked down, her red gold locks falling over her face. He lifted her chin, past the bulge in his trousers to meet his eyes. "You understand that I will hold you to every item of your lease?" She nodded gravely. "Yes, sir." Sir? Where had that come from? "Good." He unzipped his trousers and freed his cock. He looked down at her. "Put your hands over your head." She obeyed immediately. He reached down and lifted her green sweater up over her head, revealing her breasts presented in her lacy black push up bra. Her sweater tangled in her hands for a moment and he considered leaving it there. Then he lifted it up and tossed it aside. He reached down and pinched her hardened nipples tight, lifting her up and drawing a gasp before letting her go. "Suck it off, and be sure to swallow my load." He watched her obey, her lips tight together, pressing against his head and then parting. He felt her tongue tease his tip as her lips slid down towards his balls. He didn't think it would take her long to get him off. He leaned back and sighed as she got to work at her fellatio. This could work out very well indeed. Working at his cock, Amy felt it tickle the back of her throat. She pressed on, fighting her gag reflex to take him as deep as she possibly could. She wondered what exactly she had gotten herself into. She heard him click on the television to watch a baseball game while she worked. She wanted to feel angry, but instead she felt a burn of shame and humiliation. It was intense, and she redoubled her efforts sliding up and down on his manhood. As she felt his spurt of orgasm and struggled to catch and swallow it all, she thought to herself 'well, this won't be boring!' Living Arrangements Ch. 02 At an arm's reach Kitty now stood seemingly will-less before me. With her head slightly bowed she was transfixed on the semi-erect phallus that had just ass-raped her mother. I could only assume she had never seen such a thing. Even with her soft strawberry-blonde bangs falling across her face it was easy to see what an attractive young woman she was. Kitty was obviously built from her mother's exquisite genes with a very similar shape, only slightly taller and naturally thinner. Just looking at her it was evident she had everything necessary to make for a real prize. All she lacked in reaching her full potential was the time to ripen and for someone to take an interest in over-seeing her development. As I pondered Kitty's future, both the immediate and long term I heard Barbara emit a faint sigh. Apparently she had regaining enough of her senses to grasp what was likely to happen within mere moments. The trepidation on her face was obvious as she watched her daughter's approach to a point of no turning back. "Kathy...Kathy," Barbara repeated trying to draw her daughter's attention away from me, but she was unsuccessful. "Please don't," she added now hoping to dissuade me from my apparent intentions. "What?" I asked wanting to hear exactly what she had on her mind as I placed my hand under Kitty's chin, lifting her face to read her emotions. Within Kitty's telling eyes I could see the depth of her mischievous curiosity. Responsively my blood coursed, steadily refueling my sexual desire. Within an instant I sensed the weight and rigidity of a re-born erection. In Barbara's prolonged silence and with my focus now being on my new interest I had almost forgotten she was present. Evidently Pet had regressed from her earlier outspoken behavior as she just couldn't bring herself to explicitly verbalize what was on her mind. I suppose that with the subject being what it was and with her daughter being present it was just too much for her to handle. "Mr. Saston," Barbara ultimately forced her self to say, causing me to glance aside to see her moving in my direction. My pet still looked very naughty, partially – lewdly naked and completely fucked out with a strange expression on her face. Almost brazenly and yet timidly she stepped into my side melting her fragrant fleshy self into me. "Please," she whispered into my ear while aggressively wrapping her hand around my hardening cock-shaft and squeezing as if trying to lay claim to my meat. "Can I please have more?" Quite frankly I was surprised by her style and pleased with her resourcefulness. She had coped the best way she knew how. As a reward of sorts I decided to play along thus postponing Kitty's initiation. At the present she just couldn't compete with an older woman's years of experience. "What do you have in mind?" Silently Barbara took the lead and without so much as a second's hesitation stepped towards the house never relaxing her grip effectively pulling me in tow. As we neared the house I paused against her pull. "Another fucking...please," she again whispered hoping to keep her daughter from hearing just how low she had sunk. "Very well, but first I'll shower," I answered resuming to allow her to tow me inside. I felt like a predator being lured from the nest by a seemingly crippled mother bird. Once inside Barbara wasted little time in escorting me to her bathroom. I knew she wanted my attentions as far removed from her daughter as possible and would likely do anything to hold my interest. Barbara hurriedly gathered what I would need to clean up and then made an effort to excuse herself, but I wouldn't allow it. I made it clear that she was to shower with me so that she could bathe me. "Strip," I commanded and as obediently as I would've expected my pet began to peel away her feminine attire. I took great pleasure in watching her disrobe; the unplanned, unrehearsed, sensual way she moved just came naturally to her. Even though I had already seen, to a large degree, what an attractive female specimen she was. As she stripped her self naked I couldn't have been more pleased with the detail of what I saw except of course for her overly hairy pussy. "You're going to do very nicely," I complimented. "And with some discipline you'll make a very suitable slave – won't you?" For more than a few seconds Barbara neglected to answer and for her silence I smacked her pearly-pink bottom hard enough to elicit a surprised squeaky, "Ouch!" "Yes Sir...I'm sorry," she finally said flashing her eyes up at me before quickly looking back down. "Quite," I replied, explaining that when I asked a question I expected an immediate answer. "Now, shave that mangy bush," I ordered telling her that today she would shave her self bare, but that in the future it would be permissible to keep her self neatly trimmed to within a quarter inch. Through time and experience I'd found that a little pubic bristle constantly catching in a woman's silk panties had the effect of always keeping a sexual thought fore front in her mind. Although my pet was blushed with reluctance she dutifully went about following my instructions. After seating her self on the toilet seat cover, although she had no choice but to spread her sumptuous thighs, as modestly as possible she began to carefully snip away her naturally long, dark auburn pubes. While she did so, I began instructing her on the new house rules and the codes of conduct she was to follow. Primary to all that I told her was that she was to share my instructions with her daughter, so that as I trained one I would be training two. "You will also share all of your womanly knowledge and experiences with Kitty plus the detail of our intimacies. What I demand of you now – I'll expect from her in the future," I said being pleased at the sight of Barbara's clippings settling on the floor between her sexy feet. Once Barbara realized that Kitty was to be included in my plans of domination she froze momentarily pondering what it all meant. I could only suppose what she thought in those moments, but in the end she didn't comment or question me, only laid down her scissors. Dampening a wash cloth she then bathed her vastly improved looking crotch before smearing herself with shaving cream. Next using a lady's razor, beginning at her lower abdomen then proceeding downwards between her smooth thighs, she delicately began shaving away the last remnants of her pubic mat. "You will maintain your figure and weight. You will always keep yourself made-up around me, looking your best as you were today when I first saw you." Beyond that I informed Barbara that while in my company, no matter when or where she was never to wear a bra or panties. "Like wise after 7 p.m. you are only permitted to wear either a negligee or robe of my liking and always with nylons and heels. You will always sleep in the nude except for the nylons – they remain on." Although I'm sure Barbara was imagining how drastically my rules would change her life she never looked up, choosing instead to make sure she removed every strand of hair without doing her self any harm. "Together we'll go through your wardrobe to make sure you have everything necessary and nothing I disapprove of." To elaborate further I made it clear that when she left the house, for what ever reason, she would always dress to please the men that would see her. "You will be flattered by their stares and compliments, aroused by their desires to have you." Adding that she was to never have sex with anyone except me unless I ordered it and that included her own masturbations. "If you have a man friend – dump him immediately. I'll be taking care of all your needs now." "I don't," Barbara said faintly, now razoring away the little bristles protecting her labia. After wiping away the last remnants of the streaked white cream making sure she was baby smooth and properly presentable, Pet looked to me for my approval. Beckoning her forward, Barbara arose and stepped before me so that I could check her smoothness. Reaching down I cupped her hairless, seemingly pre-pubescent center in my palm. She was smooth without a hint of hair or stubble, warm and quite noticeably damp too, but not exclusively from the shaving, I suspected. Perhaps some of what I'd been telling her had played a part in her excitement. "Why are you so wet?" "I...I...don't know," she lied quietly amidst a breathy moan as my middle finger greased by her vaginal secretions dipped within the folds of her cuntal lips. "Why?" I persisted, diddling the sensitive nerves of her clit. For longer than tolerable my new slave held her tongue, which immediately brought me to remove my adept cunt strumming finger from teasing her. Maneuvering quickly I positioned my left leg between hers and pulled her close effectively forcing her to hug me for support while I held her still and firm for my own balance. As we melded together I lifted my left foot to rest it on the toilet seat lid forcing her onto her tip toes so that she could settle and ride her bare twat on my knee. As if on cue Barbara began to hump herself greedily upon my leg. Now with the horny bitch properly positioned and selfishly distracted I reached around her to vigorously spank her ass, not to brutalize her, but to discipline her. "Because...I'm...a...whore," Barbara managed, speaking a word each between my swats, suddenly realizing she still owed me an answer. I could feel her claws digging into my back and nearly the entirety of her seated weight upon my leg as she tried to bury my knee cap between her thighs. "Owww...," she winced and squirmed as her spanking continued. "Please stop...please," she begged, although I wouldn't relent. Amidst the swats I realized my slave was doubly excited from both the ass stinging she was getting and the pleasurable friction generated by grinding her self off on my knee. "Why you horny bitch...you're trying to cum – aren't you?" I asked increasing the tempo of my swats. "I...need...to...cum," she moaned in a heated tone, freeing one hand from my back to take hold of my cock. "Why?" I repeated. My pet was now trying to jerk me off, pulling at my flesh pipe with all the strength she could muster, but her attempt was futile. For twenty years I had trained myself and in twenty seconds she wasn't about to nullify my self control. "Ohhh...God," she grunted. "Owww...please...?" she whined almost out of breath. "Please what?...Why?," I asked for a third time while still slapping her fleshy back-side. "Let me cum...make me cum! Fuck!" The heat in my palm was rising from the number of swats I'd administered. Smack, smack, smack..., the sounds resonating within the smallish sized bathroom. I knew without looking that Barbara's once creamy-white rump was now probably a blistered crimson. "I'm...a slut. Please...Master! Owww...A horny slut...," Barbara roared, louder and louder realizing the spanking wouldn't end nor would I consent to her cumming until she said what I wanted to hear. "Momma...?" Kitty's voice suddenly called from beyond the bathroom door. "Are you okay?" she asked testing the locked door after having obviously her mother's pleading cries. "Yes Baby," Barbara somehow managed to reply. "Momma's...fine," she moaned with a noticeable growl in her tone, never ceasing her efforts to fuck my knee. "Shall I let her in?" I asked. "Maybe young Kitty would like to her slutty mom cum from a spanking." "No Master,...please. I'm your whore...your slave," she conceded trying to change the subject. Barbara was no longer jacking my cock, but still fiercely squeezing it as if to relieve her torment much like someone biting a bullet for pain. "Oh God!...Please...take me...rape me," she jabbered thrashing about as if electrified. "Ohhh...," Barbara sirened, nearing a point of going berserk. "Please let me cum...let me cum...so I can tell Kathy," she blurted, knowing full well that her daughter could probably hear every indecent word. With those words the spanking ended. Now with both my hands cupping her firm butt, one cheek noticeably hotter than the other, I rhythmically rocked her back and forth hard against my knee. Barbara was hushed except for the mounting groans of her imminent orgasm. Frantically she bucked on my knee still clenching my cock for all she was worth as she broke over the edge shuddering in a climactic spasm. Once again Barbara's tones were loud enough to draw her daughter's attention. "Momma...I'm scared," Kitty said, rattling the door against its frame. "It's..okay...Honey," Barbara answered in bated breath. "I'll be out in a bit." "Good girl," I soothed Pet, kneading her tender behind while she gradually calmed. "Now was that so hard?" I asked lowered my leg, allowing her to slide from the saddle of my knee. "No Sir," she sighed as tears began to stream down her face. Whimpering, my pet realized what she'd just acknowledged and declared. She would tell Kathy everything, she would teach her, she would even help turn her baby into a whore – a sex slave if only to please her master. Barbara knew there was no point resisting, she couldn't, she was too weak. She was already at the mercy of her Master's will, too dependant on the ecstasy he wielded. In fact unthinkably enough surfacing from some deep dark place within her, Barbara actually liked the idea of seeing Kathy experiencing the same euphoria that she had. Once Barbara had adequately gathered herself she joined me in the shower and without further instruction began to bathe me. As she did so I detailed how our living arrangement would work. Explaining that for as long as she and her daughter served me well neither of them would ever want for anything. "No, not with that," I scolded as Barbara began to cleanse my genitals with a wash cloth. "Not with your hands either," I corrected her. At the correction Barbara folded down onto her knees and properly began to nuzzle her face against my groin. As she experimented in how to clean my equipment without using her hands I turned the subject to her daughter. "How old is Kitty?' "She'll turn nineteen in two weeks," Barbara answered. "Is she sexually active?" "I don't think so," Pet replied now using her hair like a scrub brush to reach my dangling nut-sack. "If she is – see that she stops immediately," I instructed stepping wider to give Barbara better access. As my questions of Kitty probed to a greater degree of personal I noticed Pet beginning to use her mouth on me more and more. Initially she licked tentatively about my rigid shaft, but as my questioning continued she started to mix in a few little kisses. Sensing Barbara's interest in the subject of Kitty's private life I began to speak more of my plans in how I would dominate her. Now Barbara's kisses became open-mouthed and escalated to where she was sucking on me a little. "In a couple of weeks Kitty might even be taking her turn bathing me as you are now," I said wondering what Barbara's reaction would be to a picture of her daughter taking her place with her young mouth slurping on my penis. Almost before I'd finished the sentence Barbara had my crown passing between her moist lips. I doubted the need to say more to propel Barbara to blow me, but I did any way since she seemed to be so inspired by my words. "I may even fuck her before you get yours," I said causing Barbara to moan outright as she inhaled my cock as if for sustenance. "You'll get to watch though," I added knowing now that Barbara was really getting off on hearing what all I was going to do to Kitty. I could feel my girth clogged at the back of Pet's mouth, so much so, I doubted she could actually swallow me. "Awwggg...," Pet gargled around the fat cock-head poised at the threshold of curving down her lovely narrow throat. Seemingly defeated, Barbara regurgitated my mouth full then looked up at me with her sorrowful, tear-choked eyes. "Finish it," I ordered to which Pet filled her hands with my ass cheeks. Once again I was throbbing beyond her tongue. "I may even have Kitty bare a son for you to raise," I suggested placing my hands on Barbara's head. "Awww...grrrr..," she sounded pulling my pelvis forward as I drew her head to me. At last my fully engorged knob burst beyond the restriction as together we managed to feed all 8 inches into her face. Feverishly now Barbara was throat fucking me as if she had a clit for tonsils. I could feel my balls tightening and knew it would be only seconds before I lost my load, but how did I want to finish, I wondered. Naturally not on her terms I decided so I suddenly pulled myself from her siphoning mouth creating a vacuum-like "pop." The slippery fractioned withdrawal was just too intense and at the instant of exiting her mouth I ejaculated a jet of spunk, splattering across Barbara's face. "Ohhhh...," she groaned, seemingly in disappointment or disgust – at the time I wasn't sure which. Then as the shower spray began to wash away my gooey deposit, in answer to my uncertainty, not to be cheated, and without even thinking, Barbara used her tongue and fingers to gather up and devour my thick rich seed. "You are one hell of a fine cock sucker," I praised her exiting the shower, leaving her crumpled on all fours with her head hanging and the water still beating down over her. As I dried myself I told Barbara to prepare herself to dine out being sure to adhere to my rules of dress and that she should be ready in an hour. Living Arrangements Ch. 02 Chapter 2: Watching the Clock Disclaimer: These are consenting adults, even if it doesn't seem like it at every moment. I believe in the importance of safe sex, but might skip it for erotica between fictional characters. Amy stretched lazily in the sunbeam just now streaming in her bedroom window. She was nude and her blanket had slipped off the bed, but she just didn't care. She could still taste the saltiness of Patrick on her lips, and remembered the burning inside he had left her with the previous night. After she had swallowed the entire big load he had poured into her mouth, he had held her on his lap and his hands had wandered while he had nibbled on her ear and whispered the nicest things. She hadn't been able to stay long; she was still living at home with a midnight curfew. But that would all be changing soon. She smiled to herself, a little smugly. He had given her a long, lingering goodnight kiss and told her that he expected her promptly at eleven the next morning to begin paying her security deposit. He had smiled in anticipation, anticipation that lit an even bigger fire in her heart. And lower. She stretched again, now with an eager wiggle, and glanced over at the clock, which was just clicking over to ten-forty. Ten-forty?! That would give her just twenty minutes to get out of bed, get ready, and make the fifteen minute drive over to Patrick's. She jumped out of bed, tossed on a robe and ran to the bathroom. She hadn't set her alarm clock, but she never slept this late! What had come over her? She brushed her teeth rapidly and ran a brush a few times through the tangles of her long red gold hair before deciding it was mostly hopeless. Running back into her bedroom, she pulled on a halter top that pushed the girls up and together, and wiggled into red thong underwear and a pair of super short cut off jeans. Maybe he wouldn't notice the hair if he had other attractions to stare at. She hurried down her steps and out the door, yelling to her mother that she was going out and not to worry about her for dinner. She ran to her car and hopped in. She paused just long enough to apply a quick coat of bright red lip gloss before racing down the street. Pulling onto the Baltimore Beltway, she saw brake lights stretching out ahead and slammed on the brakes. Waiting for the random traffic jam to clear, she looked down at the clock and sighed. It read eleven-twelve. Patrick didn't feel the slightest twinge of conscience at taking a personal day. It seemed every Friday at least a few of his coworkers had better things to do. This Friday, it was his turn. He couldn't think of too many better reasons to play hooky than the sweet young thing that would soon be on her way to spend the day scrambling his brains. He thought about the lease agreement they had signed the night before. Was she for real? It seemed too good to be true. Then his mind turned to the subject of asses and whippings. He had put that clause into the agreement almost as a joke. He had fully expected her to walk out, maybe after decking him. But not only had she agreed to it, she had all but insisted that he follow through. Now he had to beat her butt at least twice before she ever moved in. It seemed pretty clear that if he wanted this girl in his life, he'd better learn to be a disciplinarian. He sighed and then grinned. He could think of ideas that sounded like a lot less fun. Over a casual breakfast, he thought of all the things he could and would do to her, and found himself growing more and more excited and aroused. Why had he said eleven? Ten would have worked, or even nine. He smiled to himself. This girl really had him going! He looked down at himself. He was wearing some tight jeans and a Ravens jersey, and the constriction around his crotch was really beginning to get annoying. It didn't matter what he wore, he hardly needed to impress Amy any more. Apparently he already had. He reluctantly sat down and waited impatiently for her to arrive. As the clock passed eleven and the minutes kept ticking by, first he was angry, then worried. He had said promptly at eleven and she had left him with every belief that she was looking forward to this as much as he was. Maybe she had gotten cold feet and changed her mind. If she was going to stand him up, that would be the wreck of a perfect day. Maybe she had crashed her car, or gotten into a shouting much with her Dad. Maybe... It didn't matter; there was no way to know. He was watching the street through his front window when Amy's Dodge Neon pulled up. She literally ran up the steps to the apartment and he breathed a sigh of relief and then grinned and rubbed his hands together. This was going to be fun! Amy finally pulled up to Patrick's apartment building, jumped out of the car, and ran up the steps. She took a moment to calm down and catch her breath before knocking tentatively on his door. It opened immediately, and Patrick was there looking down at her with a smile. He didn't say a word, just put his big, strong hands on either side of her waist and pulled her in for a deep, sloppy kiss. She noticed in the part of her mind that could still think that he had taken a step back and kicked the door shut. He set her back on her feet and frowned. "You are late." He glanced at the clock. "Twenty-eight minutes late." Patrick looked down at her sternly, but inside he was grinning. She was a vision of loveliness. Her hair was long and a bit tangled, like some kind of wild animal. She was wearing come-fuck-me red lipstick and some short shorts that left nothing to the imagination. Best of all, she was still a little out of breath from her sprint and the kiss, so her proud bosom was heaving in a halter that practically presented her tits as a gift. She stammered out. "I know. I'm sorry. I, um, got stuck in traffic." Patrick raised an eyebrow, at the same time reaching out to casually unbutton and unzip her shorts. "What time did you leave the house?" She blushed, bit her lower lip slightly, and looked down. "Um, I think it was, uh, five to eleven." He laughed slightly and she blushed deeper. "Is there a reason you didn't call me to let me know you would be late?" She shook her head, ashamed. "No, I'm sorry, I just..." Whatever she intended to say trailed off as Patrick hooked his thumbs into the band of both her jeans and thong and pulled them down around her knees. Grabbing her arm he turned her, pushed her down, and bent her over the arm of his love seat in one smooth motion. Patrick looked down at Amy's bottom cheeks bared, turned up, and presented to him. Her behind was a creamy white, with not a hint of a tan. Her moons practically glowed in the late morning sunlight, with just enough baby fat to give them a nice round curve over lean, muscular thighs. He suddenly had the strong urge to drop his pants, ram her pink rosebud, and savage her virgin ass. But he restrained himself. Her first time should be at least a little gentle, and that was definitely not what he had bent her over for. After all, he did have all day to play with her. He looked at his right hand and consciously flattened his palm and fingers so it would sting more when he slapped her. "You are not nearly as sorry as you are about to be," he promised her. Then he pulled back to give himself plenty of room to swing and landed a very solid smack on her left cheek, leaving his hand resting there afterwards. She squealed in sudden pain and squirmed a little under his hand. He lifted his arm again and looked down at the red hand print he had left on her, marking her. Well, that did seem to make an impression at least. He wondered how much he should spank her. Well, she was twenty-eight minutes late. That seemed like as good a number as any. He pulled back and swung again, leaving a matching hand print on her right cheek and drawing another squeal. He felt a sudden stiffening of his cock painfully against the fabric of his jeans. He wondered: If one smack gets a yelp, what will three in a row right on top of each other get? He abruptly decided to find out. Bent over with her face in the leather of the love seat, Amy felt deeply ashamed. She was very aware of her ass up in the air. She knew she deserved every bit of the spanking she was going to get. How could she be so stupid as to be almost half an hour late to meet a man she had invited to whip her just the night before? He probably thought she was the worst kind of inconsiderate airhead. I hope he still wants me, she prayed to herself. She tried to lift her hips to give him the best possible angle. What was he waiting for? Abruptly she felt the impact of his hand on her left cheek. She had been ready, waiting for it, but she still yelped and moved away from the first smack. Damn, he was strong! And if he was holding anything back she didn't want to ever make him really mad. He waited a while before delivering the second, long enough for her to regain her composure and her position. Then it came down hard on her other cheek. She was a little more prepared this time, but cried out anyway. Then he waited another long pause. His hand was almost as fierce as her Dad's paddle. Oh this was going to be bad. A little voice inside her answered: oh no, this is going to be very good. Her reflections ended when Patrick's hand came down even harder again on her left cheek, right in the sit spot above her thigh. Before she was even done squealing, he had hit her again in the same place, just as hard. And then he smacked again, a third time. He didn't stop there, though. He then delivered the same triple of smacks on the other side: smack-smack-smack. She could feel her bottom squirming, trying to get away from the burning sting. She could feel tears running down her cheeks. "Please. Please stop?" She whimpered. "It hurts." Patrick looked down at Amy crying and squirming. "I'm glad it hurts" he answered her firmly. "We are just getting started." He pressed his left hand to the small of her back to hold her in place. Her dangling legs could kick all they wanted, but she'd have to really try hard to move out of position now. And if she tried to shield her backside with her hands, he'd catch them. "And if you ever keep me waiting again for more than two minutes for no good reason and with no explanation, you will get worse." Then he started in again, harder and faster than before. She had twenty left to go, and he counted them in his head. He settled into a nice rhythm: left, right, left, right. She squirmed under the assault, but she didn't really try to get away. The tears ran down her face and she began sobbing a little. Amy's bottom felt like one big fire as he settled into a spanking rhythm. It was too fast for her to prepare herself for, and too hard to ignore. She knew she was squirming and blubbering incoherently as he put his bulging muscles to good use. She just couldn't get hold of herself. Suddenly he stopped. She was crying into the couch uncontrollably. Maybe this spanking was over. If this was his idea of a spanking, what would his idea of a whipping be like? She shuddered, still crying. "I'm sorry. Please, please, is that enough?" She heard Patrick's voice above and behind her, still cold and angry. "That was twenty-two. You still have six more whacks to go. One for each minute you were late. These will be the hardest." She gasped and then she waited. He let her wait, building the anticipation. Then, he smacked her right cheek with what felt like easily double the force he had before. Amy couldn't help it; she screamed. The scream didn't even buy her a moment: he hit that spot again immediately, twice more, just as hard. Then moved to her left cheek and delivered exactly the same treatment. Patrick looked down at Amy, wondering if he had done that right. She was crying hard into the sofa, sobbing to herself. Her bottom was entirely a bright red, and the areas he had spanked hardest had shaded over into a dark red. Was that too much? He wasn't entirely sure. Still looking down at her, he wondered what he should do next. She seemed to have gotten control of herself, and she was trying to talk. "Th- thankyou Sir." She broke off and began to cry again for a moment. "Thank you for giving me the spanking I deserved. Please forgive me?" Her last words were saccharine cute, and he thought he detected just a little bit of sass. He smiled to himself, thinking maybe he hadn't spanked her quite enough. He shrugged, invisibly to her. "You are welcome, Amy. Now, stand UP. And don't even thinking about rubbing the sting out of that butt." He made his voice a lash as he commanded her to her feet. Amy rose unsteadily to her feet and looked up at him, uncertainly. She knew her eyes were puffy from crying and she felt very small and vulnerable. He sounded so angry. But he didn't look furious. In fact he was almost smiling as he looked into her eyes. She noticed again that his were that impossible green that seemed to pierce her soul. She could feel her well spanked bottom hot and throbbing, and now she noticed an answering heat and wetness between her legs. The intensity of the moment passed as he crouched down and picked her up from the backs of her knees, flinging her over his right shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He walked across his living room, slapping her sore ass with his left hand. The smacks were light and stinging, but it was enough to get her crying again. He set her on her feet and spun her around to face the only bare corner in the room. Then he spoke. "Stand up straight and put your hands on the back of your head" he ordered. Amy obeyed immediately. His voice softened abruptly. "When I was a little boy, I spent a lot of time in the corner when I had been naughty. This is going to be your corner. You kept me waiting for twenty-eight minutes. So I am going to keep you waiting and thinking for twenty-eight minutes. Then I am going to hear your apology, and it had better be a fantastic one or we'll start all over again." He suddenly slapped her bottom lightly but smartly four times, left right left right. "Understood?" "Yes Sir" Amy replied meekly as she settled into the corner. Her mind was only focused on one thing, though. He had said this was her corner. This was going to be her home. She suddenly felt flushed and giddy. This was really happening. Her bottom was still hot, stinging, and throbbing and she thought with a shudder that she probably had a real whipping coming. One she had asked for. But now it wasn't just her ass that was warm. She felt a flush rising on her face, and she knew that both sets of cheeks were rosy now. She knew that her pussy was hot and dripping and she felt it clench involuntarily around the cock that wasn't there. With some effort, Amy forced herself to think about an apology. She should have set her alarm clock. She should have called him. She was silly and this was completely her fault. And the lame excuses probably didn't help. Maybe it wasn't a really big deal though. Suddenly Amy felt absurdly grateful for her burning backside. Patrick would discipline her. Patrick would forgive her. He wouldn't be afraid to punish, and he would let her know what was important. She sighed and wondered how long she had been standing there. It had probably been only two minutes. Maybe it hadn't even been that long. The sting hadn't left yet. She wanted him so badly. She wanted him to forgive her and smile at her even more badly. The corner was very white and bright. She imagined him staring at her swollen butt and hoped he was enjoying the sight. Lounging on the couch, Patrick was certainly admiring Amy. Her ass -- no, that's MY ass, he corrected himself -- was fading to a uniform bright red. It made a nice contrast to her creamy and shapely thighs. His eyes dropped to the dimpled backs of her knees and from there to the shorts and panties now around her ankles. He undid his jeans and freed his erect penis. The instant he did, he saw he had a mammoth erection. He glanced over at the time and saw that less than ten minutes had passed. He laughed to himself. This was supposed to be a punishment for Amy, but it was nearly as much a punishment for him. Well, he would wait the twenty-eight minutes, but after that she was going to start paying her security deposit immediately. Amy felt truly punished by the time she felt Patrick's tap on her shoulder and his spoken "turn around." Her bottom was quite sore, she ached with desire, and her thoughts had long since started running in circles. Most of those thoughts centered on Patrick. Turning, she gasped in surprise. His manhood was now free from his jeans and he had the biggest hard-on she had ever imagined. He was certainly ten inches long at least, but his thickness was even more impressive. She wondered suddenly how he had ever fit inside her. He had taken his shirt off as well, and her gaze slipped to the downy black hair on his bare chest. He chuckled to himself and lifted her chin up to him with one knuckle. "If you can stop drooling, I think you owe me an apology?" Amy blushed an even brighter shade at that and stammered out a "Yes. Yes Sir." She suddenly and gracefully dropped to her knees. "Please forgive me. I am very sorry that I was thoughtless and rude and stupid. I should never have kept you waiting for me. I should have set my alarm clock. I should have called you when I knew I was running late instead of making you worry. I am sorry that I started out paying my security deposit this way. I hope you don't think I am a terrible fool and I hope you still want me to live with you. I am really, really sorry. Please forgive me?" She looked up at him from her knees with practiced puppy dog eyes. Looking down at her , Patrick felt his prick throb with a new wave of lust. "I forgive you, darling. And I certainly want you. Kick off those shorts and panties and keep 'em off. You won't need them today." She moaned and breathed: "Oh thank you." Amy gasped and moaned as Patrick reached down into her halter and pinched her nipples hard, pulling her a little painfully to her feet. Then he grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her up, up, up. Her head fell back into the corner as she felt the tip of his cock pressing against her pussy lips. She wrapped her legs around him and pressed her feet to his buttocks as he lowered her to slide down the full length of his shaft. She screamed out "Oh Patrick!" as she felt herself divinely split by his hugeness. Her clit pressed roughly against the hairy base of him, making her cry out again. Patrick almost came right when she screamed his name. She was so impossibly tight and hot and wet and eager and willing and... He put one hand on her back and the other squeezed one of her punished butt cheeks. He knew he wasn't going to last long, which was a shame. He backed up and thrust hard. Amy cried out with a little "oh!" He pulled back and banged her hard again and again and again. Her little crescendo of gasps was like music to his ears. Then a thought struck him and he grinned wickedly. He stopped the action, holding her impaled. He raised his hand from her buttock, gripping the hair at the back of her head and forcing her in for a kiss. Then he raised her head to look at him. Amy gazed at him hungrily, thinking how good this was. He was pulling her hair and his impossibly strong arm was holding her up by the thighs. He had been kissing her and now he was talking. "Amy, you have just begun to pay your security deposit." He paused. "You haven't worked nearly hard enough to deserve an orgasm yet. I will let you know when you can have one." Amy moaned in protest and very nearly had an orgasm when he spoke. "Oh God please? Oh Patrick please please let me?" He laughed and rocked her up and down on his hips casually. "Not now, you hot little tart. After lunch, you have a whipping coming, so that you'll know how it feels. Then I believe I am going to take your little virgin ass. If you are very good, maybe you can have an orgasm after all that. Now I'm going to pound your cunt and you are going to scream my name." Amy moaned and breathed softly "Yes Sir." She hoped that she was capable of obeying him. His words made her feel even hotter and sluttier. He had an iron grip on her hair and her thighs, so she relaxed into him. As he started pounding her, she concentrated on squeezing tight around his prick and screaming out "Patrick! Patrick!" in time to his thrusts. Living Arrangements Ch. 02 Patrick felt her body go limp as the muscles inside her suddenly squeezed and massaged him. Oh, she was good. He let her fall back against the wall and grabbed her waist above her hips, pressing his face into her cleavage. He started ramming her again and again. "That's right you horny bitch, I'm gonna pound your slit while you scream my name." Amy had never stopped screaming his name. "I'm gonna fill up all your holes and I'll whip you until you don't know whether to beg for more or beg for mercy." Then Patrick stopped talking and just pounded her, feeling close to shooting his load. Amy felt him explode inside her, watching his face show his pleasure. She reluctantly stopped herself from joining him, although she easily could have disobeyed. Oh she wanted him! She wanted more! Instead she screamed out "Patrick" one more time and tried to move her hips and her pussy lips to milk every drop of cum from him. He backed away from the wall, lifted her off of him, set her down on the floor facing him. He kissed her once, lightly, on the lips. Then he spun her around, slapped her bottom hard and growled, laughing: "Go make me a sandwich, woman." As Amy walked slowly to the kitchen, her hips swayed to the tune of her inner slut. She had never, ever felt so owned. Living Arrangements Ch. 03 As I exited the bath room I found young Kitty sitting on the floor near the end of the hall some ten feet away. When she peaked up at me I could see the bewilderment in her expression. "Who are you? What do you want here?" she asked, slowly rising to her feet allowing me to see that she had a phone on the floor behind her. "Well...I'm the new Master of this house," I spoke frankly, standing my ground. "What does that mean?" "Perhaps your mother could best explain," I replied, stepping away from the door to allow her free entry. For the next while I roamed the house becoming familiar with its layout. Along the way I wondered how Kitty was taking her mother's news of becoming my slave. I wasn't concerned about Barbara, I knew what I had in my new pet, she was a true submissive, a whore at heart. I wasn't even worried about Kitty after all she'd already had opportunity to phone for help but evidently she hadn't. It was near 7:30 when I heard the approach of clicking heels. Within a few moments Barbara and Kitty, holding hands, entered the living room where they stood awaiting my reaction. As much as I might have wanted to control my response to Barbara's looks – I couldn't help but smile appreciatively. At that Kitty released her mother's hand essentially leaving her to me as she turned and left the room. I took it from Kitty's actions that she'd accepted her mother's explanation of my place and rank in the house. More over she appeared oddly pleased with herself, her coy expression conveying that she was glad to place her mother at my mercy. I was immediately struck by how great Barbara looked. I really hadn't expected her to pull herself together quite so well especially not after all I'd put her through, but she did. More than that she looked different than when I'd first seen her some hours earlier. At that time she was looking good maybe more for herself, now she was at her very best for me. There are subtle differences in how a woman dresses and carries herself when she's really trying to please a man's eye and Barbara was clearly trying to please mine. Barbara's evening attire consisted of a tailored knee-length pleated black skirt fitted snuggly about her waist and hips. By design she was showing off plenty of leg, all long and dark within their silky casings. Her heels were tall, glistening black with little gold buckles fastened around her ankles that reminded me of tiny sexy manacles. The blouse she wore was beige and appeared rather sheer although I couldn't say for sure because of the covering black blazer which was naturally tight across her full bust line. Perhaps most impressive of all was Barbara's vibrant auburn hair simply styled to cascade around her demurely submissive face. Her look was somehow sophisticated, yet submissive and suggestively sultry. My pet looked owned and proud to be so. "What about underneath?" I asked. "As you instructed,...Master," she answered. "So, show me." At that Pet's eyes smiled knowingly as she pulled her blazer open to one side. Now reaching in to touch herself she smoothed her hand down over her heavy breast enabling me to see through the blouse's thin fabric. In the action I could see her pliant flesh moving freely without the support of a bra, the darker circles of her areola and her standing nipple. "Very good," I praised her. "And there...?" I added casting my eyes to her lower half. Without a word Barbara moved to grasp the material of her skirt. Cutting only a brief peripheral glance aside Pet began slowly, almost teasingly to gather the garment in her hands. Slowly and yet steadily she revealed inch after inch of her nylon covered legs until I spotted the two little garter clasps hooked at her upper thighs. "Perfect," I complimented now seeing the creamy pale flesh of her thighs contrasted against her stocking's smoky black silk. Still I wondered if Pet had followed my rules exactly as outlined. Within another moment I had my answer as she completed the ultimate reveal by hiking the skirt above her crotch. Bare of panties, I could now see my slave's flat hairless abdomen curving enticingly between her parted thighs. "What a shame," I said surprising Barbara and prompting her to release the garment as she smoothed it back along the contours of her form. "What?" she questioned obviously concerned at my comment. "Well as much as you deserve to be shown off, I've ordered out." Barbara looked somewhat relieved upon hearing what I'd planned until I reminded her that it was after 7 o'clock and that she was due to be in her evening wear. At that Pet wheeled around without comment retreating back towards her bed room. Barbara hadn't been gone for more than about ten minutes when she returned having changed into a short red silk robe that barely fell to the tops of her nylons. She had hardly re-entered the living room when the door bell rang then rang again. The look on Pet's face at that moment was one of sudden awareness – she knew what was likely to come next. "Shouldn't you get that," I suggested. "I don't have any money," Barbara answered after pondering things for a moment now looking to me for a way out. "Maybe not...but you have so much more." I replied from my seat on the sofa. When the bell rang for the forth time Barbara knew what she had to do. Still with nothing in hand for payment she quietly moved to answer the door. Within a few minutes she returned with two pizza boxes in hand and a telling blush sunk deep into her cheeks. Barbara didn't say a word as she busied herself serving me, her hands noticeably trembling. I wondered what had been said or maybe even shown at the door for the pizzas to have been free, but I chose not to ask – at least not then. After eating I left the house telling Pet I would return after work the following day to move in. Starting again Tuesday night and continuing on day after day for almost two weeks I began putting my house in order. My plan was two fold; to openly train Barbara, subjugating her to a variety of exploitations with the intent of also pulling Kitty into my web. Each evening as a routine we would conduct our household goings on similar to a normal family; we would have supper, watch some TV, talk a bit and then all go to bed. Where our routine differed was that by the time I got home Barbara would be dressed in her negligee, nylons and heels. Most times I'd have her cook supper. Sometimes I'd surprise her by bringing something home. There were another couple of occasions when I'd order out and have her answer the door wearing her frilly things. It wouldn't have surprised me to learn that Barbara had become the delivery boy's talk of the town. After our meal the first order of business was for Pet to stuff her ass with a nice fat butt plug. This was to condition her for the many ass-fuckings she would be receiving. Once Pet was sufficiently plugged she was sent to Kitty's room to do her whoe-work, (sorry about the play on words). Her ongoing assignment consisted of documenting her daily subservient adventures in the form of a journal-like story that she maintained on Kitty's computer. Some day I intend on having Pet submit her stories to Literotica under the moniker "PetBarb" for the whole world to read. During Barbara's writing time I either watched a little TV or did some office work while Kitty did her home work. At 9 o'clock Kitty would go to her room to do whatever and Barbara would join me back in the living room where we could continue her training. Every couple of days I had Barbara squat spread-legged astride my lap, but always with her back to me and still with her ass corked. In this position Pet would snuggle back against me wedging my meaty shaft in the hollow deep between her enveloping labia. There she would dutifully jack my cock, pulling the rigid flesh against her wet twat as she rocked herself back and forth squirming to gain as much contact as possible. Sometimes, while Barbara handled me, I'd return the favor with a little reach-around molestation of my own. She especially enjoyed having her thick nipples pinched, aggressively twisted and elongatingly stretched. I'm not exactly sure why Barbara liked being allowed on my lap so much. Perhaps it was the perception that she was in control, or it might have been the illusion that the fat eight inch cock protruding from her crotch was hers. Maybe it was just that this was the only time she was allowed to have my cock this close to her cunt. In any case when I'd instruct Barbara to get on my lap she would practically jump for joy. Towards the end of our sessions no matter how much my pet moaned and begged to be fucked – I wouldn't do it. That was a pleasure yet to be earned, a reward I was withholding until we celebrated Kitty's birthday. Those same nights we always finished our session with Barbara on her knees, her hands locked behind her head with my cock slab lodged in her throat. This is when I instructed my whore on how to work me by just using her throat muscles. When I was near to cumming I would have Pet polish me off two handed taking careful aim to receive as much of my ejaculation in her wanting mouth as she could manage. What she caught in her mouth she could swallow, otherwise she mostly just made a mess of herself and had to clean up afterwards. Not once since that first meeting had I allowed Barbara to climax. I wanted my slave sexually frustrated and primed every hour of every day. That was the whole point so that no matter what the situation, or the setting, whatever it was I expected of her she would do it. She wouldn't be able to help herself - her body, her clit, her cunt wouldn't allow her to disobey in hopes that she would once again get to cum. Each night after using Barbara to my satisfaction we would shower together where she would bathe me as she'd been taught. As had become my routine, shower time was when I teased Pet with talk of how intended to enslave Kitty. After our shower I'd retire to the master bedroom sending Barbara to sleep with Kitty in her room. It was their time to talk, the time Pet was supposed to share her experiences with Kitty. I never asked Barbara anything of their conversations as she knew I was expecting to see the results first hand. From that first night on I suspected that Pet and I weren't always alone. Although I never actually caught Kitty spying on us I'm certain she was. Hell I would've been disappointed otherwise. The morning routine was simple Barbara was to be up and properly dressed early enough to serve me a light breakfast. During that time I would inspect her looks, her dress and the condition of her crotch, making sure she was properly trimmed with no sign of having cheated on cumming. By the end of the second week it appeared my plans were working perfectly. Barbara was always looking great, always acting highly horny, and forever anxious to please me however I suggested. Kitty too was making progress and showing signs of falling in line. Her clothing choices were increasingly more mature, more flattering to her figure as she was clearly trying to draw greater attention to herself. Kitty was also beginning to look more like her mom, fixing her hair and make-up similarly. She'd even started wearing Pet's perfume – a brand I especially liked and had bought for her. Kitty had also become increasingly more attentive to what I asked of Barbara, sometimes bringing me what I wanted before Barbara could. One thing I noticed that I hadn't expected was that Kitty began acting as if she were competing with her mother for my attention, sitting closer to me when she could, lingering more during our private time. On occasion I noticed Kitty studying her mother, learning what I liked and disliked by way of Barbara's mistakes so as not to make any of her own. By the time Friday evening arrived I felt good about my women and what was in store for our celebratory weekend, Kitty's nineteenth birthday. First off I'd planned on taking them out on the town and had instructed Barbara that they should be ready when I got home. Upon entering the house I knew my plans had already gone astray when Barbara wearing a new all white ensemble of silk robe, nylons and heels greeted me at the door with a glass of wine. "Master, I hope you don't mind," she began with her head slightly bowed. Before I could react, thinking my pet needed a sound spanking for disobeying me Kitty appeared, coming down the hall. For a moment I wasn't sure what I was seeing but as she neared the sight of her cleared. For the first time, but I suspected not the last Kitty was also dressed in special evening attire. An outfit exactly matched to her mother's except for a lacey white veil that fell across her pretty face. "Well," I commented aloud as the image surprised me. "What have we here?" "A virgin bride, of sorts," Pet answered stepping aside to clear my field of view before trading my wine glass for a gift wrapped box. With the box in hand I stood frozen as Kitty stepped within a couple of feet of me. There she was joined by her mother who had also now donned a veil. "We are yours," Pet began taking hold of Kitty's hand. "Your slaves," Kitty added in a bolder tone of conviction than I thought she could manage under the circumstances. With that Pet motioned for me to open the box, which I did. Inside I discovered yet another matched set, a pair of white leather collars complete with leash rings. I'm sure my reaction gave away what I was thinking. Even though I didn't need their pledge of being mine, to be mine, I still understood the symbolism and smiled. When I next looked up I saw that Barbara and Kitty had shed their robes. Together they stood, my so called slave brides clad in matching whale-bone styled corsets fixed with garter straps, bare breasted and bottomless. They were perfection; their breasts out thrust with nipples already swollen and ripe, their waists narrow and pinched, their hips flared, and their crotches smoothly shaven. "Isn't it customary to kiss the brides," I began emphasizing the "s" while stepping slightly forward. "But in this case I think the brides should kiss," I added deciding to spin their little set-up back in my favor. By the whites of Barbara's eyes I knew I had thrown her a curve, but in Kitty's reaction came the real surprise. In that instant she quickly lifted her veil turned to Barbara doing likewise then embraced her in such a way so that their pointy breast seemingly punctured each others. Now young Kitty leaned in smoothing her mother's luscious red lips with an aggressive kiss. With the seconds passing even I grew surprised. Not alone by the passion of the kiss or the throaty moans growing ever more audible, but by Kitty's hands as she slid them down her mother's concaved back to grasp her bare behind. "Mmmm," Pet mumbled her mouth filled with her daughter's invading tongue, her arms tense at her side. Slowly at first and then more freely Barbara's tension melted perhaps finally giving way to a long suppressed desire. Now the couple, mother and daughter were locked in an embrace, bodies entwined, fleshes melding, hands roaming and clutching until only for air did they part lips. "Kathy,...honey?" Was all Barbara could manage, her tone questioning, her breath short. I could almost see their super-heated auras glowing above their heads and clearly sensed how desperate they were to know each other more. "Here," I said, pausing their enchantment with each other to offer them the contents of the box. Kitty was the first to act, removing one of the collars to quickly fasten it around her mother's slim neck as if she'd been practicing. Barbara, although not as adept did likewise and within a short time my two bitches were bound in family slavery. "I guess in a manner of speaking this marries us all," I proclaimed, "Mother to daughter and slaves to Master." I had no sooner finished the announcement when Kitty locked her fingers in Barbara's leash ring then backing up drug her towards the sofa. Before Barbara could think or react she found herself being coaxed onto all fours as Kitty sat down in front of her. It only took a moment more before my whores were frenching each other again, Kitty clearly having taken the lead in their new relationship. I was already following seeing Barbara's corset enhanced womanly round ass poised for the taking. It was then when Kitty abruptly sat back spreading her knees, opening her legs and with a tug of Pet's leash ring guided her mother's face into her crotch. "Don't move," Kitty practically ordered Barbara as she beckoned me closer with a hungry look and outstretched hands leaving her mother's head uncontrolled. As soon as I was within reach Kitty went to work unfastening my pants. As she did so I joined in and within moments stood naked with my cock actively salivating and at the ready. "Master, please fuck my mom like you did that first day," Kitty asked looking so hard into my eyes that I didn't even consider denying her. "Ohhhhh," Pet moaned at the thought and memory her voice barely heard from between her daughter's creamy thighs. Upon hearing Pet's purr Kitty placed her hands on the back of Barbara's head pulling her face even deeper into her crotch. "Eat me Momma," Kitty said, "Taste me," she added while lifting her pelvis upwards. It wasn't hard to know what was taking place where I couldn't see. Kitty need not have worried about Barbara not doing as instructed for no sooner had she spoke the words when a smile broke across the young woman's face and her eyes widened then closed. Sure evidence of her mother's tongue going to work. "Mmmmm," my brides hummed together each for their own reasons as they squirmed about, Pet seemingly trying to force her face up her daughter's virgin center and Kitty vulgarly spreading her legs wider and wider trying to accommodate her. From where I stood it appeared Kitty would be cumming soon and for her to do so on Pet's tongue wasn't what I'd planned for her first family climax. "Enough," I said grabbing Pet's broad hips to control the situation while pulling her backwards. One could almost hear their suction being broken. "Stand up," I instructed Barbara and as she did I could see past her to the frothy mess she had made of Kitty's crotch. "What were you thinking," I asked spinning her around to see the slobber and pussy juice on her chin and her red lipstick smeared all across her cheeks. "I'm...sorry, Master," she managed cutting her eyes down so as not to see my disappointment. "What did I say about no one cumming unless I ordered it," I lectured Pet, turning her back around in preparation to spank her butt. "Bend over!" At that Pet did as instructed presenting her ass as she reached down to take hold of her ankles. It was then when I spied the flanged base of a silver butt plug barely showing between her round pink cheeks. "Why you horny slut," I barked, before realizing my pet was nothing more than what I'd wanted her to become. She was a sex slave to the infinite degree, unable to think straight or control herself except for pleasing others. She'd actually done nothing wrong and to spank her now would only be a contradiction to everything she'd learned. "Yes, Master...I am a horny slut, your slut," Barbara answered her voice quaking but still not having moved a muscle. So now I focused my attention on Kitty. It was her turn, her turn to serve me, to be treated like a slave. It was her turn to cum and in turn to be the vessel for my cumming, and hopefully the vessel where my sperm would flourish. "Stand up," I said glaring into Kitty's eyes only to see pure lust staring back. "It's time for you to feel the mastery of my cock." Instead of rising Kitty eased herself to the edge of the sofa where she slid off onto her knees before crawling like a prowling cat right past her mother towards me. She was a sight, her head bowed, her back tapering away to where the corset pinched in at her waist, her lower back curved in sharply just before the rising curve of her young firm behind, her swaying hips, and her long lean legs pushing off by the toe tips of her pure white high heels. This young thing looked to need a hard fucking and she was going to get it. Living Arrangements Ch. 03 After rummaging around the kitchen, Amy found all the fixings for a nice roast beef and cheddar sandwich on rye with lettuce, tomato, and some kind of fancy German mustard. She figured she couldn't go too wrong with the items Patrick had bought for himself. "Coke or beer?" she called out cheerfully. "Coke with lunch. And get yourself one too. And a sandwich." Patrick flopped down on the sofa happily. It had been a good hour, and the afternoon showed every sign of being just as much fun. Amy came out of the kitchen with a plate and a coke, having decided sensibly to serve Patrick first, rather than juggle two plates and two cans of soda. Seeing her, Patrick had to suppress a whistle. Bare from the waist down, her pubic triangle was a nest of soft, red silk over long, firm legs that seemed to go on forever. Her purple halter lifted up her breasts, presenting them, and she was wearing a very sexy smile. She bent over sensuously and deliberately in delivering his lunch. Holding the pose, she looked up at him and licked her lips once before straightening up and returning to the kitchen. Patrick patted the couch by his side as she returned. "Sit and tell me about yourself while we eat. We hardly know each other." He smiled and took a big bite of his sandwich. "Delicious!" he mumbled. An hour later they had established that Amy's major flaws included a love of pop music and reality TV. Patrick liked football, baseball, and hockey, all incomprehensible to Amy. They shared an interest in clubbing, Amy a little more than Patrick, and he resolved to outfit her in style. Abruptly, he switched gears. "Amy, have you ever been spanked before?" His question caught her off guard and she blushed. "Yes, uh, yes. By my Dad mostly. He, um, he uses a paddle." Patrick frowned slightly and glanced to one side. "You did a lot of carrying on when I spanked you, so I wondered." He shrugged slightly. Amy turned a deeper shade of red, looked down, and bit her lower lip. "Well, I'm a screamer. Maybe you noticed?" She looked back up at him and smiled mischievously. "You don't need to let that slow you down." Patrick returned her smile, but still looked serious. "Amy, you asked me to whip you, so you'll know what it feels like. You put it in the lease. That isn't something I demanded, except to keep you in line if you are extremely misbehaved. You haven't done anything wrong, except for the business about being late and that was properly dealt with. Are you sure this is what you want?" Amy looked back at him, still smiling. "I want you to know for certain that you have the right to. It isn't just words on paper. And . . . I'm curious. More than curious. It's a fantasy." She held up a hand to stop him from speaking. "I know when you started writing my lease, you were making it up as you went along and you didn't know if I would go for it. Maybe you thought I wouldn't. But I keep my word." She spoke seriously and with conviction. Then abruptly she giggled. "Well, except when I say I'm going to be at your apartment at eleven." She looked back at him seriously again. "You should keep your word, too. Whip me!" Patrick smiled back warmly. "You'll probably regret saying that in a few minutes, but alright. You want to know what a whipping feels like, eh? I don't actually own a whip. I haven't had any real need for one. And you haven't done anything wrong. So, I'll give you a tour of the apartment." He paused for a moment. "And along the way, I'll whip your tail with whatever I think of. Maybe a few other parts of you as well." Amy gulped nervously and then nodded. She looked down shyly and asked "how do you want me to start with?" "First, stand up. And toss your halter with your shorts. I want you nude." Amy complied quickly. Her tits stood up proudly even without support. "We'll start in the entryway. Come here." Patrick walked over to the front door. Amy followed, scanning the small, tiled area. There was a 'welcome' mat just inside the door, made of bristly brown stuff. A coat closet lay to the right of the door and a small pile of shoes was to one side. To the left of the door was the love seat. She had already been turned over that. Patrick opened the closet and scanned its contents quickly. Maybe he didn't even remember what was in there? A large, red plastic fly swatter in the shape of a hand hung on a hook at one side. He grabbed it and swished it through the air. So, that would be first, Amy thought to herself. She suppressed a giggle. That thing would probably sting! "Put your hands on your thighs and bend your knees. Arch your back a little if you can, or at least keep it flat and even with the floor." Amy got into position, leaving Patrick enough room to walk all the way around her. She was looking down at the floor, bent over. She managed to arch her back a little. It wasn't very comfortable, but she knew her bottom was stuck out, presented. Her breasts were also squeezed forward between her upper arms, nipples pointing down at the floor and a little forward. She felt very exposed, and realized that was probably the point. Patrick had walked around behind her. With the first smack of the fly swatter, she released the breath she had been holding. It stung a little, but really it hurt a lot less than his hand. He repeated the smack on her other cheek. That wasn't bad, she decided. Suddenly he went to town, with dozens of fast light strokes. He alternated cheeks. No one stroke had much impact at all, but the repeated little stings were starting to burn a little. Then suddenly he stopped. "That was just a small taste" he explained. Then he walked around to her front. He lifted and squeezed her left breast brutally. She whimpered as he began giving her tit the exact same treatment with the swatter. He focused on the nipple, but rained down small smacks everywhere. Just as the burn was becoming hard to stand, he let go and abruptly switched sides. When he had finished, Amy could feel a light stingy burn across her whole chest and bottom. She was also breathing heavily, feeling excited. Patrick replaced the fly swatter on its hook in the closet and studied Amy for a moment. The skin of her breasts and behind was just slightly pink from his efforts. The redness from her earlier spanking had mostly faded over lunch. She was also panting and flushed. He slipped a hand between her thighs to cup her labia. Just as he thought, she was good and wet. He tweaked her clit roughly and she yelped and moaned. He took a step back. "That's one item down, a few to go. Next, we'll try a slipper." He slipped his hand inside the shoe, and placed it flat across one of her thrust out cheeks. He watched her tense, and smiled. She was nervous about this one. He placed his free hand firmly on the small of her back. Amy felt her bottom explode with pain as he struck her right cheek hard with the rubber-soled slipper, not once, but five times in rapid succession. He had aimed right for the crease between her butt and thighs and it felt white hot to her now. Her first impulse had been to stand straight up, but Patrick's hand on her back had stopped that. He showed no sign of following up immediately, so she had a chance to recover. She knew that tears were streaming down her cheeks. After what seemed a long time but probably wasn't, he announced "Now we'll do the other side." Before she could even tense, he was raining blows on her left cheek: smack-smack-smack-smack-smack. Then he tossed the shoe back in the pile. "There are a lot of things in the apartment, so let's head into the living room. You can stand up when you are ready." It took Amy a moment to stop sobbing and stand up. Patrick pulled her behind him over to the sofa. He set down and pulled her roughly over his lap. "You've already been introduced to my hand, but I think it's worth revisiting." Amy started crying immediately, burying her face into the fabric of the sofa cushion and waited for the hand spanking to start. It wouldn't be worse than the slipper, she was sure. To her surprise, he didn't smack her. He was squeezing and rubbing and massaging. And he was being gentle. It took a minute or two, but her sobs turned to moans. Her behind felt swollen and throbbing, but he was massaging out the sting. She lifted her backside up into his hand. She moaned, and his hand slipped in between her legs. Now he was rubbing her clit with two fingers while his thumb had somehow penetrated her, finding her G spot and pressing lightly in circles. "OH! Oh, oh, oh, OH!" She moaned and squealed under his attentions. But before she was anywhere near a climax, his hand was away from her pussy. He inserted his thumb into her asshole without prelude. It was lubed up a little with her juices, but the sudden insertion was still rough and shocking. "You!" she yelped. He chuckled and removed his hand, also lifting her by the waist and setting her up on her feet. "It's time to visit the dining room." It wasn't really a room, more like a nook between the living room and the kitchen. Amy didn't see anything there he could spank her with. He certainly wasn't going to beat her with the candlestick. He pulled out a chair. "Bend over the back of the chair and put your hands on the seat." He moved off towards the kitchen. "And keep them there." She heard him running the sink and supposed he was washing his hands. He rummaged about a bit. "Next we have the wooden spoon. Since we've already given your butt some attention, I think we'll focus on your thighs with this one." Amy answered him "yes, Sir" resignedly. She was still worked up from the play on the sofa and not looking forward to another round of whacking. He beat a quick staccato rhythm up and down the back of her legs. She was sure he could have hit her with the spoon a whole lot harder, but he was still getting a good swing. As she felt the sting in her ass fading, there was a new burn from the backs of her knees to the tops of her thighs. "Now, let's move on to the cutting board. This is just a little one, or I wouldn't be able to swing it. Just three smacks with this I think." Patrick examined her for signs of damage. The marks on her bottom had faded to a uniform light red, and her thighs matched. Her chest was barely pink. He decided he could probably go on a great deal without really hurting her. He pressed the cool wood against her bottom, pulled back and let a stroke fly. One moment, Amy was bent over, dreading the smack of the cutting board. The next moment she was howling in pain, standing up straight, rubbing her butt, and hopping from foot to foot. It felt a lot like the paddle. Only this pain was more solid, with a deeper thud. And he swung hard. "Get back in position!" Patrick demanded. "Owww..." Amy responded. But she got back into position before he could answer. "I'm... I'm sorry Patrick. I couldn't help it" she whined. "Do I need to tie you up? Or can you remain still?" His voice was sharp, and Amy trembled a little. Would he beat her harder if he had her tied? "No, I'll be good. I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting it to hurt so much." She felt she was babbling, in between sobs. "Alright. Three strokes then. That one didn't count." "Yes Sir." She sobbed, and gripped hard on the edge of the chair, willing herself to stay in position. The blow, when it came, was as hard as the first. The smack seemed to echo around the room and shatter some kind of tension in her. She jumped at the pain, but then fell back limp on the chair. She could feel her fingers digging into the fabric of the seat. The second stroke fell right across her seat as she was recovering from the first. "Aieeeeee!" she creamed out. Her feet left the ground for a moment and she kicked just to give an expression to the pain she was feeling. She resumed a fully proper position, muttering "ow, ow, ow, ow, ow". The third stroke fell, and she stayed in place only by an act of will. She screamed, not once but three times, and then flopped limply over the chair. Then she screamed in an entirely different way. Patrick knelt between her thighs, looking up at her dripping twat. Without hesitation he sucked her clit hard, entirely into his mouth. He wanted to surprise her. He was rewarded when he heard her wail of pleasured shock. He began to lick lazily at her clit as she give small cries of pleasure: "Oh! oh, oh! Oh, Patrick!" He plunged his tongue deep into her, enjoying the taste of her honeyed salt. She moaned. He reflected that she was probably not too far from a climax of one kind or another and gave her pearl a little nibble before withdrawing. He didn't want to have to punish her because he brought her to orgasm to soon. Patrick's voice was calm and a little superior as he rose. "There are all sorts of things in the kitchen to whip you with, but I think we'll skip the spatulas and so forth. It's time to visit the bathroom. Come along." He had to carry her for a few steps before setting her on her feet and leading her by the hand. Amy wiped her tears away and calmed a little. She wondered if he had a hair brush, or a bath brush. It turned out he had both, but she was surprised at the way he used them. He told her to grab the shower curtain rod and spread her legs. Then he smacked her lightly and repeatedly with the bath brush, not just on her legs and the backs of her thighs, but over most of her body. He skipped her neck, face, and back but covered new territory as well as revisiting everywhere that had already been spanked. Still, it was almost like a break. He was smacking so lightly it was almost pleasant. Just a bit more glow and a bit more burn. Then he grabbed a lava rock. "Try not to scream too much" he warned her. He started in on her bottom cheeks, already more than a little tender. The abrasion on her already stinging body was a different kind of torment. Amy gritted her teeth and didn't scream. But she wanted to. He rubbed all her body except her face with the pumice. She felt as if the surface of her skin was on fire, and she felt completely, totally naked. Patrick picked up the hair brush and smacked all up and down the inside and outside of her legs, her belly, her breasts, and then returned to her ass. Again, none of his smacks were really hard enough to hurt her. They just added slightly to the burning sting. Amy noticed the feelings started by his tongue were ramping up again, amplified by this new attention. Oh God. He was playing with her so expertly, pain and pleasure and pleasure and pain. "Stand up and turn around" he was saying. Did he have to repeat himself? Amy wasn't sure, but she obeyed quickly. Patrick looked her up and down and smiled. "We have two rooms left to visit, and I think you are well prepared for some real punishment." Amy gasped. "Real punishment?" she dared to ask. He just nodded. "Next we'll visit my office. I don't ever want you in there unless I invite you." He led her from the bathroom into the smaller of the apartment's two bedrooms. It was dominated by a large desk. A computer covered one corner and the rest was neat, uncluttered with papers or other work. Amy noted with dread that a fraternity paddle hung next to Patrick's framed diploma. He caught the direction of her gaze. "Yes. Assume the position. That's bent over the desk. Grab a hold of the far edge. Normally, we'd measure these in the dozens. But since you are just learning what a whipping feels like, we'll stop at six. But you'll have to ask me for them. And count them. And I think the line is 'thank you Sir, may I have another?', hmm?" Amy bent over the desk, gripping the far edge. She said "Yes, Sir" with an attempt at confidence that was given the lie by the small sob that escaped her throat. Her universe exploded with pain as the first stroke landed. The first words she muttered were "Oh my God oh my God." But she gripped tight to the edge of the desk and tremblingly asked for another. She somehow survived the next five, which were no easier than the first. She choked out a last "Thank you Sir" and then went limp sobbing with the pain. Patrick looked at her throbbing, dark red, slightly blistered behind. He took in her sobbing form and wondered if it was too much. She had asked for it, repeatedly, and very literally. He wasn't sure who this was for. She didn't seem to be enjoying it, and he could have quit some time ago. She wasn't wicked. He wasn't angry with her. She was delightful! So why was this necessary? He gazed at her crying over his desk and was assailed by doubts. But there was nothing to do but go forward. Amy lay over the desk, feeling shattered by the pain, like a million points of light in her brain. In the strange state in which she found herself, the sound seemed almost as bad as the sensation. It had been so loud, echoing around the room, breaking her. Now she heard Patrick's voice. It was harsh and demanding but somehow for away. "On your feet. Turn around." She wondered how many times he had said it. She struggled back to her feet, and stood straight and proud. She turned to face him. His face carried an expression of concern and maybe love? She smiled at him, waiting to hear what he would command, demand, ask. "Amy, have you had enough?" His voice was so very gentle. She felt that she had more than enough, but it wasn't for her to say, was it? "That's up to you, Sir." She knew somehow that was the right answer, but he wasn't quite satisfied with it. "We still have the bedroom to visit. If you are up to it?" He sounded tender and a little afraid. Amy realized he had probably already been more physically cruel to her than he had to anyone in his life. "Please, let's go to your bedroom, Patrick?" She was unsure of what she could endure, but she was totally sure of him. He stepped into her and kissed her, oh so sweetly, softly on the lips. Taking her by the hand, he led her to the bedroom. Patrick was more than half in love with this girl, who took all the beating he dished out and asked for more. It wasn't that she was immune. No certainly not that! It was that she wanted to prove herself, she wanted to submit, more than she was afraid. But what to do next? He ran a hand through his hair, pondering as he led her to the bedroom. Amy was unconcerned with how Patrick was feeling. The pain in her bottom and in her everywhere had led her to a state of calm, meditative acceptance. Her decision to accept and obey had left her feeling only love and trust from somewhere far away and deep inside. Patrick led her to his bedroom. The room was dominated by his big four poster bed and he was ordering her up onto it, on her knees. Obeying, she distantly noticed the weight bench and the enormous flat screen television. Both were obviously his. He ordered her hands behind her head and her knees spread wide. Amy made sure to kneel up straight so he could admire all of her. He caressed her breasts idly with one finger, making her shiver. Then he was massaging her clitoris with the knuckle of his right thumb. The agonies in his office had dried her right up, but now he was bringing back her need. Very deliberately, she was sure. Patrick played with his girl, stimulated her, wanting to bring her back a little from the faraway place she had gone. She seemed dazed, and there was little fun in fucking a woman who was gone, and even less point in disciplining her. She began to take interest in his hands, in his thumb massaging between her legs. He didn't slow, he continued teasing, waking her. When her juices were flowing freely again and she was moaning and beginning to try humping his hand, he knew his work was done. He moved his hand away, bringing forth a protesting moan. He smiled at her, glad she had returned. Amy felt her burning desire return as Patrick turned her on again. She wondered idly how much more she could take. He could take her, anytime. He could always have taken her. Instead there was this punishment she had asked for. But now he was withdrawing and she whimpered with need. He walked to his dresser, and returned with... shoelaces? Yes, shoelaces. Many of them. he doubled them and doubled them again. He had a fist full of shoelaces. And he was talking about them. "I haven't yet whipped your hungry little pussy. That will be next." Living Arrangements Ch. 03 Patrick struck up between her spread legs with his collected shoelaces, trying to strike the right balance between ticklish and excruciating. From the way she yelped and twitched and squirmed from the assault he continued, he guessed he was doing it right. He felt a sudden satisfaction, replacing his earlier doubt. This wench was his, and he was proving it! She moaned, and the slaps of his improvised flogger began sounding wetter and wetter. Now she was panting and pleading with him, incoherently. "Please, oh, mmm" she squealed and cried. "Patrick, yes, oh, please, ohhhhh." Amy wasn't quite sure what he was saying, but it felt so right and he seemed to enjoy it. The torment she felt in the rest of her was nothing compared to this, pain and pleasure mixing between her legs. But he was stopping. "Nooo!!! Please, please?" He smiled, proudly. She was somehow pleased to be pleasing him. But she wanted him so much. "Are you ready for the last of your whipping?" he asked. "Oh yes. Yes, please?" He pointed at his weight bench. "Lie flat on your stomach and put your ankles under the pads like you were going to lift with them." Amy obeyed quickly and this time he tied her in place. With the shoelaces. "If you don't want this, scream 'mercy' and I'll stop." Amy decided then and there that she was going to scream anything except mercy. He beat her bruised bottom with a wire coat hanger, and she certainly screamed. Every stroke felt white hot and electric. Her screams seemed to merge into one long scream. The fire between her legs was forgotten, the fire on her ass was everything and she would do anything to escape it. But she didn't scream 'mercy'. She thought there might have been six. It could have been eight. And when it was over, he was stroking her hair tenderly and whispering something very warm in her ear. She smiled through her sobs. He didn't untie her. Patrick looked down at Amy, all tied up with nowhere to go. She was crying, but her hips were humping the faux leather of his weight bench. Maybe she didn't even realize it. He stroked her hair and whispered how good she had been, how her whipping was over now. He wasn't sure she understood. Then he reached between her legs, grabbing her sex possessively. She whimpered and pressed against him. It was delicious! Amy felt Patrick's hand like lightning squeezing at the needy aching void at her center, and the fiery pain of her ass was suddenly secondary. "Oh, please, Patrick, please please please." She was well beyond shame in her want for him. Then she felt the cold lotion on her punished backside. He was squeezing, caressing, and massaging. Every touch hurt, but it felt so good too. Then he was massaging inside her anus, her sphincter clenching around his lubed fingers. "Did you forget, Amy darling? I promised to take your sweet virgin ass." A whole new fear shot through her, but she relaxed. If this didn't make her his, she couldn't think of anything that would. Patrick saw her actually lift her bottom too him, and a wave of desire washed over him, stiffening his already rock hard cock. He pressed it against her slick rosebud and pressed inward, inch by inch. She didn't cry or protest, she moaned with pleasure. He accelerated his pace. It didn't take him long to come. Amy didn't come, but she didn't mind. She felt his seed spurt into her ass, her ass he was filling with his thick manhood. The muscles inside her clenched and clenched again at the void in her pussy. She felt so much sensation, her greedy throbbing clit, her ridiculously sore bottom, the tingling over all her punished skin, and most of all Patrick filling her ass. When he withdrew, spent, she sobbed at the loss and collapsed onto the bench. She felt a sweet lassitude in spite of her need. And Patrick was untying her, cradling her in his arms and crooning gently. He waited until he was sure she could stand before setting her on her feet. Then he said with a smile "Now you know what it's like to be whipped." She answered with tears in her eyes: "Yes Sir. Yes, Patrick!" He led her from the bedroom, keeping his promise to do nothing to address the heat between her legs. Patrick made Amy wear a filmy apron and nothing else while she chopped up vegetables for their salad. He grilled steaks in the kitchen. He admitted to being completely and utterly a cheat, since he used an electric grill. She giggled. During dinner, she wore her apron and he placed the bristly welcome mat on the seat of her chair. She couldn't help but think of her whipping all through dinner as her behind was tortured. Patrick was dully dressed, in a black silk shirt that set of his gorgeous green eyes. He almost chattered, about current events, about his job, about things happening in the city on the weekend. Towards the end of the meal, Patrick asked Amy directly: "So, are you satisfied with your first punishment?" Sitting on her tenderized buttocks on a prickling surface, Amy wasn't inclined to argue he was too soft on her. And she certainly wouldn't say he was too hard. "Yes, Patrick." He smiled at her. "Well good. Now if I was really angry with you I probably wouldn't give you a tour of the apartment or take it so easy on you." His expression made it clear he was joking at least a little bit. "So try not to force me to prove it, huh?" Amy smiled at him, loving him even more. "Of course, Patrick." After dinner, Patrick carried Amy to bed, declaring he would have her for dessert. He did. He laid her down and declared that she had been so very good, he expected her to have as many orgasms as possible while screaming his name. He laid her down in the missionary position, her legs spread wide, and pounded her, now using his cock to punish her. She didn't mind her raw bottom pressed into the rough blanket. It didn't take her very long to start obeying his last order. She screamed his name all through the night. Living Arrangements Ch. 03 As Kitty approached a million options raced through my mind as to how I would ultimately have her and how Barbara was going to be involved. Suddenly it came to me and with that image in my mind I stepped back to sit at the edge of a recliner. It was to be a simple start with Pet helping Kitty to fuck me. Once I was seated with my legs slightly spread and well balanced I instructed Kitty to straddle me facing away but not to move. When she'd assumed her position I called Barbara over telling her to kneel before us. Once Barbara was in place I told her to take my cock in hand and to aim it at Kitty's hairless center. "Lower yourself," I told Kitty instructing her to do so slowly but to stop when she felt my hard end poised at her entrance. It took only a few seconds before I felt Kitty's hot tight young cunt enveloping my cock head and then she froze. For some time she remained still as did we all until I sensed her leg muscles beginning to tremble and her ass trying to sink lower. That is when I told Barbara that it was up to her to set the pace and for her to fuck her daughter upon me by manipulating her hips. "Yes Master," Pet replied understanding exactly what I meant as she placed her hands each on one of Kitty's thighs and began to depress them forcing my fat cock inwards into her slut daughter. Within a few more seconds Barbara was setting the pace and the depth to which I was impaling Kitty. When Barbara stopped pressing down Kitty would flex her straining legs to rise again. "Ahhh," Kitty sighed feeling her self stretching to accommodate my girth. "More..., Momma, more...," she began to plead as her mother tortured her with only slow shallow penetrations. "More, baby...," Pet teased, "Do you want more, can you handle more?" "Yessss,...fuck! Fuck me, Momma....Please," Kitty begged in a demanding tone as she placed her hands on Pet's shoulders to steady her unsteady legs. Pet couldn't resist her own delight and on the very next depression she had my fat root further still up her baby girl's twat with only Kitty's hymen blocking my way to her cervix. "OHHH God...,Yessss..., Fuck," Kitty screamed as she tried her best to bounce herself onto me more than what her mother was allowing. "Momma,...do it! Please...fuck...do it!" "Fuck her good, Pet," I ordered. "Make sure the whore never forgets her first fucking!" That was all it took and from that point on Kitty was nothing more than a pile of flesh to Pet as she bounced her daughter up and down on me without the slightest regard for how massive my cock was within the young inexperienced girl. Kitty's sounds and language weren't even coherent any more. She was just groans and moans, shrieks and screams as Pet made it to where all but my nuts where up her daughter's hole. "Come on you little Bitch," Pet began. "Take it, fuck him, get fucked," she continued losing her self to the situation. "Milk that nasty cock, fertilize your whore cunt, she wailed completely out of control. I was loving this, my two slaves totally lost to their primal needs. They weren't even mother and daughter anymore just desperate female flesh, whores needing to climax, and ready to do whatever it took. Well anything and everything is exactly what I had them do that weekend; for me, to me, and even to each other. By Monday everyone was spent and well satisfied. As it turned out some weeks later, in our own way we all celebrated the announcement that Kitty was pregnant. Soon my slaves will have a new master or mistress to serve.