2 comments/  16506 views/  12 favorites

Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 01

By: Wifeowner



This is a story about a middle-aged female physician surrendering herself completely to a beautiful young resident. It contains more elements of humiliation and degradation than actual sex. If this is not your cup of tea, please do not read on. For everyone else, let the depravity begin!

*****

Dr. Victoria Reynolds awoke with a start in the pre-dawn darkness. Her back was stiff from sleeping on the floor at the foot of the bed. She shivered in the gloom and pulled the threadbare blanket around her nakedness. She felt the familiar coolness between her legs as she shifted her weight on her rump. As she moved, her collar and leash tinkled musically. The sound seemed impossibly loud in the quiet gloom of the room. 

She froze and lay still, looking up at the large bed in alarm. She knew she would get a cunting of she accidentally woke the couple before the appointed time. 

Above her on the bed, the man and woman slept on. Victoria heard the steady rhythm of their breathing. The girl began to snore softly. 

Victoria Reynolds was forty-two years old. She was five-foot six inches tall and weighed one hundred and ten pounds. She had blue eyes and long blond hair. Her breasts were two sizes above perky. She worked out three times a week to keep her belly flat and her ass and thighs well-toned. She was attractive and she knew it. 

To the outside world, she was a typical married suburban mom with two kids who were currently away at sleep-away camp. A pillar of the community, Victoria was active in the PTA and club champion at the golf club. She had always been an over-achiever and a hard-charger. She had graduated first in her medical school class. Nobody was surprised when she chose surgery as her specialty. Now, comfortably entering a well-preserved middle age, Dr. Reynolds was a well-respected physician and a power-player. In short, she was a woman in total control. Nobody knew about her secret obsession. 

Well, almost nobody. 

The girl above her shifted in her sleep and moaned softly. 

The mean girl. 

Victoria Reynolds had always had a weakness for mean girls. Ever since she was a teenager, she had fantasized about being overpowered and abused by the rougher girls at school. The girl who was currently sleeping in the bed above her was easily the roughest and meanest one yet. 

Her name was Rebecca Morris and she was twenty-seven years old. They were still plumbing the full depths of her depravity together. She dealt in extremes, that was for damn sure. There seemed to be no limit to her cruelty. Each day brought a new violation, a more deeply nuanced humiliation for the doctor. 

Victoria loved it. 

She lifted her head and craned her neck to look at the bedside clock. It was only 5:15 a.m. She still had fifteen minutes before it was time to wake the girl. She lay back down and sighed softly. She thought about the events of the previous evening, savoring each delicious quantum of degradation. 

As usual, it had all began with a simple page. 

Dr. Victoria Reynolds had just finished rounding at the hospital when her pager chirped. She looked down at the small battered screen in irritation, expecting yet another inane message from another idiotic resident, then she read the message and smiled. 

It was from her mean girl. 

"Good morning, cunt. It's date night tonight! Thomas and I are going out to dinner, then we're coming over to play. Be ready by eight."

The doctor's pussy pulsed and a warm wave of elation flooded her body from her toes to her nose. She leaned back against the wall of the corridor and lovingly read the message over and over again. Unconsciously, she spread her legs slightly, feeling the coolness of the air-conditioned institutional air on her bare pussy beneath her sensible skirt. She was not allowed to wear panties any more. Her pussy was owned by the girl now and she didn't like it to be covered. 

"Slave pussy is always naked," the girl had said casually as she scooped up all of the doctor's panties out of her dresser drawer and unceremoniously dumped them in the bathroom garbage. 

Victoria Reynolds soon discovered that the girl had other very particular specifications regarding the care and maintenance of slave pussy as well. She shifted slightly, feeling the familiar tugging sensation at the apex of her thighs. She didn't care. She was used to it by now. 

The doctor straightened up and and looked at her watch. She did some quick mental calculations regarding timing and preparation for the evening, then grabbed her smart phone from her lab coat pocket. She dialed her office. Her receptionist picked up the back line on the first ring. 

"It's me. Cancel my afternoon patients. Something's come up," she said brusquely. 

"Yes, doctor," said the frumpy middle-aged woman on the other end of the line. She knew better than to ask any questions. Nobody messed with Dr. Reynolds. 

Victoria disconnected before the woman had finished speaking, then walked briskly to the doctor's lounge. She hung up her white lab coat and practically bolted out to her car. 

She got behind the wheel of her Porsche SUV and drove straight home. When she arrived, she stripped and folded her clothes neatly. The girl never allowed her to wear clothing when she had the house to herself. Naked, she cleaned and scrubbed her entire home spotless. She knew the girl would punish her if the place was not immaculate. Last time, her breasts had been whipped for thirty minutes because Rebecca spied a cob web in the corner of her bedroom. 

When she was certain that the house was in order, Victoria went upstairs and drew a hot bubble bath. She settled in to the fragrant water and spread her legs, carefully inspecting her bare vulva for any stray hairs. The girl had whipped her pussy with a wooden spoon when she found an errant pubic hair the previous month. She didn't feel any stubble now, but shaved herself carefully using her husband's shaving gel, just to be sure. 

When she was satisfied with her grooming, Victoria jumped in the shower, then did her hair the way Rebecca liked. She blew it dry, then gathered it into a tight ponytail. She sat down and began applying her makeup. The girl liked her to look slutty, all eye-liner and red lipstick. Her husband said she looked like a whore when he saw her like this. 

The thought of her husband made her smile. All her life, Victoria had fantasized about being controlled by a stronger woman, but it wasn't until after she was married that she learned there was actually a named fetish for the ultimate humiliation she craved. Her husband was as vanilla as they came when he had married her. How ironic it was that it was he who had inadvertently facilitated his wife's dark decent into depravity by the simple act of placing a ring around her finger. 

After making final adjustments to her hair and makeup, Victoria left the bathroom and went downstairs. She remained nude. Her bare feet slapping on the hardwood floors, the doctor made one last careful survey of the house, then ensured that the Chardonnay Rebecca favored was chilling in the fridge. Satisfied that all preparations were in place, Victoria fixed herself a light dinner and ate, naked and alone, at the kitchen table. As she ate, Victoria wondered idly where the Rebecca was having dinner. She hoped the girl was having a good time on her date. 

When dinner was over, Victoria went upstairs and retrieved a shoe box from a high shelf in the walk-in closet of the master bedroom. She opened the box and lifted out the thick, black leather collar. She quickly buckled it around her neck, then brought the box over to the vanity. The doctor admired her reflection in the mirror, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the overly large dog tag the girl had bought for her several months earlier. 

Victoria got down on her knees and placed the shoebox on the floor before her. She reached down several times, lovingly retrieving the various trinkets the girl had provided for her during her training. She snapped everything in to it's proper place, feeling the familiar blossom of arousal as she adorned herself for her mistress. 

When she was done, Victoria stood and again looked at herself in the vanity mirror. Everything appeared in perfect order. She paused and let her right hand wander down her flat belly to her groin, gently fingering the large block letters inked above her sex. 

Such a simple word, but it said so much. 

She glanced at the bedroom clock and yelped. She only had five minutes to go. Quickly, she reached into the shoebox and withdrew the large, black silicone anal plug. She lubed the plug throughly, then squatted down and began to twist it carefully into her anus. 

She winced as the bulbous head slipped past her tight sphincter. At last the base of the plug settled up against her rosebud. The girl always kept Victoria plugged during use. She liked her slave's ass to be constantly stretched and lubricated. Rebecca sometimes allowed her date to fuck Victoria up the ass for her amusement. He never fucked her pussy, though. Nobody did. 

At just before eight o'clock, Victoria checked her makeup one final time in the bathroom mirror, then picked up the small key from the vanity and trotted down the stairs to the foyer. She opened the hall closet and retrieved her chain leash, snapping it to her collar, then knelt in the center of the room. She placed the leather loop of the handle between her teeth, then crossed her wrists together at the small of her back. She grasped the key firmly in the closed fist of her left hand. 

The slave looked down at the floor as she knelt and waited for the girl and her date to arrive. In the silence of the house, she reflected on what her life had become. 

Dr. Victoria Reynolds had been playing her dangerous games with various mean girls for over two years now. She was always careful and discrete, of course. She had no interest in blowing up her quiet vanilla life, but over time the need to be used more extremely had continued to grow. Luckily, there were always plenty of girls available to play with. That was one of the advantages of working at a university medical center. Each year brought a new crop of prospects. 

The girls came and went, but the current one, Rebecca, was special. As soon as she laid eyes on the young second-year resident, she recognized her as a natural alpha female. All it had taken was a lingering look. As soon as their eyes met, Victoria knew she had found a new playmate. They were introduced to each other during morning rounds and Victoria was eating out the younger woman's ass before lunch. 

Later that same day, after Rebecca rode the older doctor's face to an unusually wet orgasm in the female staff locker room, words were exchanged. Arrangements were made for their first evening session at a hotel the following night. 

That had been over six months ago. 

Victoria was snapped out of her reverie by the rumble of an approaching car engine. A few seconds later, she heard two car doors close, followed by the sound of two people talking and laughing. 

Victoria straightened her back and thrust out her breasts as she heard the front door open. She was careful to keep her gaze averted toward the floor. 

"Ah, there she is, Thomas." laughed Rebecca as the couple entered the foyer, closing the door behind them. 

Victoria saw two pairs of feet approaching her. Rebecca was wearing black patent leather pumps with three inch heels. The man wore expensive black wing tips shined to a high gloss. 

The man didn't say a word. He was used to the sight of the kneeling middle-aged woman greeting them at the door. He smirked down at Victoria briefly, then stepped past the naked slave without a second glance. He walked off toward the kitchen as if he owned the place. 

The man called out over his shoulder as he went. 

"I'm having a scotch, Becca. Wine for you?" he asked casually. 

"Some Chardonnay would be lovely, Thomas," said the girl breezily. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Victoria watched Rebecca look around the room imperiously. 

"I see you finally straightened up the place," she said testily. "Looks like you finally learned that it's customary to keep a clean house when one is entertaining."

The slave said nothing. 

Rebecca stepped across the parquet floor, her heels clicking as she went and placed her handbag on the antique side table against the wall. The slave stole a quick glance at her mistress and was horrified to see the young woman dragging her right index finger across the lacquered surface, checking for dust. 

The slave had a momentary flash of panic. Had she wiped down the table earlier? She couldn't remember. 

Rebecca held up her finger for inspection. She stared at it for several long seconds. Victoria held her breath. Apparently satisfied, the young woman dropped her hand to her side and looked over at the kneeling slave. "I trust there won't be any...unpleasantness...this time," she said menacingly. 

The slave stared at the floor. 

Rebecca stepped over to her slave. Very slowly she reached out and took hold of the leather handle of the leash, still gripped between the slave's teeth. With a gentle tug, Rebecca pulled the leash free, then deftly looped the handle around her left wrist with a gracefully proprietary flourish, as if taking a dog to heel. 

Rebecca reached down and patted the slave on the head. 

"Oh and one more thing," she said evenly. "I assume my bed been made up properly? I'm not going to fuck Thomas on your stinky old sheets," 

The slave spoke for the first time. She continued to look down at the floor. 

"Oh yes, Miss Rebecca. I changed the sheets today. I put on the best ones I have. I bought them especially for you," said the slave obsequiously. 

"What a good girl, you are Victoria. Shall we begin?"

"As you wish, Miss Rebecca," said the slave, nodding her head eagerly. 

"You may greet me," said Rebecca softly, moving in close. 

Victoria finally looked up at her young mistress. As usual, she was stunned by her natural beauty. Her large, almond shaped eyes were deep brown and expressive. She had high cheekbones and full lips. The slave eyed Rebecca's body greedily. She wore a slinky black cocktail dress, extremely low cut in front. Her large, firm breasts were perfectly shaped. Rebecca seldom wore a bra and her large nipples jutted proudly beneath the straining fabric. The skirt hugged her narrow waist and well-proportioned hips. Rebecca's legs were tan and shapely, and tapered down into muscular, well-toned calves. 

She looks more like a supermodel than a junior resident, thought the slave dreamily. 

The slave's gaze lingered on Rebecca's breasts for a few beats, then drifted down to the younger woman's crotch. Without a word, Victoria leaned forward and kissed Rebecca's pussy firmly through the fabric of her skirt, then dipped down and lightly kissed the tip of each shoe. When she was done, she got back in her knees and looked straight ahead. 

"This slave presents herself for use, Miss Rebecca," she said in a strong, clear voice.

Rebecca began with the usual air of formality. She stood up straight and looked down at the kneeling woman. She reached down and cupped her chin with her right hand, tilting her face upward until their eyes met. 

"Do you serve me of your own free will?" she asked stiffly. 

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave softly, gazing up lovingly at her mistress. 

"Very well. I will take you for my pleasure," Rebecca purred, then held out her right hand, palm up. "Do you have something for me?"

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," replied the slave eagerly. She reached up with her left hand and dropped the small key into the upraised palm of the younger woman. Rebecca was gratified to see that the slave was trembling slightly. 

Rebecca reached down and fingered the over-sized dog tag affixed to Victoria's collar. It was a large, gaudy red plastic disc almost as big around as a coffee cup. She tilted the tag and examined the three words inscribed in large white capital letters:

BECCA'S PET CUNT

"Do you like your pet name, slut?"

"Yes, Miss Rebecca, very much," said the slave huskily. 

"Maybe I'll have you wear your collar to the hospital one day," said Rebecca. "Would you like that, cunt?"

"As you wish, Miss Rebecca," said the slave softly, looking away. 

"Or maybe have your name tattooed across your teats," continued the younger woman mildly. 

The slave's eyes widened fractionally, but only for a split second. She new better than to show her fear. 

"As you wish, Miss Rebecca," she said softly. 

Rebecca jerked the leash. 

"Spread those knees wider, cunt," said Rebecca curtly. 

The slave immediately complied. The large plug shifted uncomfortably in her ass as she widened the base of her knees. 

Rebecca lifted her right foot and placed it between the slave's legs, gently prodding her bare pussy with the pointed toe of her shoe. There was a faint metallic clink. 

"Do the new ones hurt?" asked Rebecca not unkindly. 

"No, Miss Rebecca," said the doctor softly. "I don't even feel them anymore."

"That's certainly not what I wanted to hear," scoffed the young mistress. "We may have to be more aggressive with your pussy training." 

"As you wish, Miss Rebecca."

"When were the latest ones put in?" asked Rebecca. 

"Two weeks ago, Miss Rebecca," replied the slave. 

Rebecca looked down at the slave and smiled knowingly. 

"How's Fat Tony?" she asked playfully. 

"He's fine, Miss Rebecca. He sends his regards," said Victoria. 

Rebecca nodded, then grinned. 

"Does he have a big cock?" she asked companionably. 

The slave didn't miss a beat. "Not really, Miss Rebecca. Much smaller than my husband. And he cums fast. He's no trouble at all."

Rebecca nodded curtly, then snapped her fingers. 

"Inspection position, please," said Rebecca sternly. 

The middle-aged doctor stood quickly and spread her legs wide, then laced her hands behind her head. She tilted her pelvis outward to present her pussy, while thrusting out her breasts. 

Rebecca bent at the waist and looked closely at older woman's pussy. The tattoo on her vulva was large and easily readable from three feet away, just one word in plain black letters:

O W N E D

Below the tattoo, the thick labial rings dangled and swayed under the weight of the large brass lock holding them together. There were three rings on each side, piercing the inner labia. Currently, the gauge of each ring was 00ga, which was about 5/16 of an inch in diameter, or about the thickness of a pencil. 

Rebecca reached down and flicked the lock gently. It began to swing back and forth between the slave's legs like a pendulum. 

"I see you're all locked up nice and tight," she said, smiling. 

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave softly. 

"Who's pussy is this," asked Rebecca sharply. 

"It's your pussy, Miss Rebecca," said the slave immediately. 

"Damn right and I'm changing it aren't I, slut? I'm transforming it, making it mine," said Rebecca fiercely. 

The slave looked down at the floor and said nothing. 

Rebecca had ordered the tattoo and piercings four months ago. 

"A true slave needs to be pierced and marked," the young mistress had said casually after a particularly brutal training session.

Dr. Reynolds had protested at first and was caned for her insolence. An ultimatum was given: comply or be dismissed. Of course, the slave had opted to comply. She never really had a choice. By then, the older woman was addicted to Rebecca. She was in love. 

They did the tattoo and piercings on the same day at a piercing parlor owned by a friend of Rebecca. The young mistress did not allow any topical anesthetic to be used. She smiled and looked on intently as the slave whimpered through the tattoo. Then, there came a succession of blood-curdling screams as the tender flesh was skewered again and again. Rebecca almost came in her pants, just from watching. 


Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 01



They had started with three narrow gauge rings on each side in the inner labia. If you are looking to use the rings as anchors, you use the thicker outer labia. If your are going for stretching and body modification, you use the thinner and more pliable inner labia. Rebecca was interested in changing the appearance of the slave's vagina, so she had the rings placed on the inner labia. 

The slave still carried scars from the belting her husband had given her when she returned home with her new adornments. He had been furious. She was being irresponsible he had said. What if one of the kids saw her naked while she was changing? Was she going crazy?

The slave had quickly calmed her husband down. A good blowjob will do that to a man, but he had still whipped her for it. 

Now, he barely noticed the tattoo or the piercings. In fact he barely seemed to notice his wife at all anymore. He had become increasingly remote and distant. He rarely touched her when they were alone together. She knew he had begun sleeping with another woman, of course. The slave didn't mind. She even openly encouraged it. She knew she wasn't good enough for him anymore. Why not let him seek his pleasure wherever he could find it? 

Every few weeks, the doctor went back to the piercing parlor to be fitted with successively larger rings. Fat Tony always greeted her with a smile. The doctor always paid with a blow job in addition to the usual fee. The goal was to eventually graduate up to the thickest gauge of 00000ga which was just about a half an inch in diameter. 

Once in, the rings were never removed. Their permanent weight had a predictable effect on the anatomy of the the slave's external genitalia. 

Rebecca reached out and pinched the doctor's drooping inner labia between her thumb and forefinger. 

"Getting nice and stretched out, aren't you, you old slut. You must be dangling three inches with that heavy lock on," she said clinically. 

The slave said nothing. 

"You still doing your stretching exercises every day? Dangling like I taught you?" asked the pretty young mistress. 

"Yes, Miss Rebecca. One hour a day. With the fishing weights. I keep them in my night stand," answered the slave softly, her voice barely a whisper. 

Rebecca, pulled firmly down on the lock. The inner labia stretched downward like soft taffy, a full six inches. The slave winced, but did not move a muscle. 

"Good, I want to see these dangling down like flapjacks, halfway down your thighs. Got it?" said Rebecca savagely. 

She gave the lock a final pull, then released it like a slingshot, watching it bounce up and down crazily for a few seconds before settling back into a lazy arc between the slave's legs.

"As you wish, Miss Rebecca," croaked the slave, choking back a sob. 

Rebecca leaned forward and whispered in the slaves ear. Her eyes were twin slits. 

"Because I'm going to ruin you down there for your husband forever," she hissed. "That's the point, don't you see? This pussy is not for fucking anymore. I forbid it. I'm going to make this pussy so ugly that nobody will ever want to fuck it again, even after I get tired of you and throw you away."

The slave looked down at the floor and tried not to cry. 

"That's going to happen soon, you know," added Rebecca casually. "I'm already getting tired of your freak show pussy and floppy tits. It won't be long until I move on."

The young mistress let go of the leash and began circling the hapless slave. 

"In fact, I'm going to make you seduce your own replacement," she said matter-of-factly. "Maybe have you ensnare one of your young, impressionable medical students for me. Maybe I'll give you to her as a gift."

The slave choked back another sob. 

"As you wish, Miss Rebecca."

"Or maybe I'll give you to one of the cleaning ladies at the hospital. I've noticed that a certain heavy-set African American woman has been eying you fondly from afar. What would you think of that?"

Tears began to form in the corner of the slaves eyes. 

"As you wish, Miss Rebecca," she croaked. 

The slave knew Rebecca wasn't bluffing. She reveled in the knowledge that she would eventually be thrown away like a broken doll. The fact that the girl's ownership was only transient made the permanence of the tattoo and body modifications all the more delicious. 

The slave was secretly thrilled at how her pussy was changing day by day. She didn't care that her husband was revolted by her appearance. She wore the rings like badges of honor. This was the sweetest debasement she had ever borne. She didn't tell Rebecca, but she often wore the lead weights all day when she was home. She enjoyed feeling them tug and swing beneath her dress as she prepared lunch for the kids or spoke with her husband on the phone. 

The fact that the physical changes would remain years after the girl had gone made the transformation even more meaningful. Years from now, all Victoria had to do was look between her legs at the loosely twisted flesh of her sex, to be reminded that she had made herself a willing whore for a mean girl. This was absolute surrender, the ultimate degradation, a gift that would last a lifetime. 

Rebecca abruptly slapped the slave on the rump. 

"Stop day-dreaming, cunt," she barked. "Eyes forward. Stand up straight."

The slave stood up more erectly and looked straight ahead. She hoped Rebecca would hit her again. She wondered if she would be whipped later. She hoped so. Maybe Rebecca would have the man do it. He had a stronger hand. Her entire body was thrumming now. 

This was what she craved. This was what she needed. Even now, as the girl mocked and taunted her, she could feel her arousal growing. Soon, her essence would leaking down her thighs in thick, shiny rivulets for all to see, an irrefutable physical manifestation of her own depravity. 

As if on cue, Rebecca bent down and pinched the slaves pussy lips again. 

"Oops, starting to leak already, I see," said the mistress. She paused and sniffed the air. "God, and you smell rank. What a fucking slut."

Rebecca tested the consistency of the drooping labia between her thumb and finger. 

"These are looking even puffier than usual," she said suspiciously. "You haven't been letting your husband fuck you, have you?"

The slave looked aghast. 

"Oh no, Miss Rebecca. This is your pussy. Nobody fucks it. Not ever!"

Rebecca regarded the slave cooly. 

"When's the last time you had a cock in my pussy?" 

The slave paused, adding up the time in her head. 

"About three months ago, Miss Rebecca. That's when you told me I was no longer allowed to fuck my husband." 

Rebecca paused. 

"Oh, the poor dear. I hope he's not feeling too deprived," said the young mistress in mock sympathy. 

"Oh no Miss Rebecca. He's fine. I suck him off twice a day, morning and night as you ordered. He doesn't even have to ask. If he's in the mood for fucking, I let him use my ass, just like you told me."

Rebecca released her grip on the slave's swollen labia and stood up straight. Just then, there came the sound of approaching footsteps and Thomas walked in to the room, carrying two drinks. He ignored the standing slave and handed a glass of Chardonnay to Rebecca, kissing her lightly on the cheek. Finally, he turned to face the naked woman. He eyed her cooly. 

He was dressed in a well-cut charcoal suit with a gleaming white shirt and burgundy tie. It was obvious he had gone straight from the office to pick up Rebecca for their date. He was a big man, well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He had the bronze, chiseled features of an avid sailor. He exuded strength and confidence. At forty-four years of age, he was much older than Rebecca, but he was still a very capable lover and was very well endowed. He had unbelievable staying power. The slave had watched him fuck Rebecca for over an hour at a time on dozens of occasions. 

"Aren't you going to greet Master Thomas?" asked Rebecca primly 

The slave quickly dropped to her knees. She repeated the ritual of kissing crotch and feet with the man, then, still kneeling offered herself to him. 

"This slave presents herself for use, sir," she said softly, looking straight ahead. 

The man stared down at the kneeling slave, a thin cruel smile on his face. 

"We were just discussing her pussy training," said Rebecca cheerily. "I'd be interested to know what you think of her progress."

Rebecca looked down at the slave. 

"Stand up, cunt and show Master Thomas your pretty lips," she said curtly. 

The slave stood and resumed her inspection position, thrusting out her pussy toward the man. 

Thomas took a long pull of his scotch, the bent forward and looked closely at the distended labia. He gently flicked the dangling lock once, then stood up straight. 

"I think it's gross," he said in a decidedly disinterested tone, then took another sip of his drink. 

Rebecca squealed. 

"Oh, that's wonderful, Thomas! That's exactly the look we were going for. So, you wouldn't want to fuck that thing, right?" asked Rebecca. She was practically jumping up and down with delight. 

"Hell no," said the man with disgust. 

The slave said nothing of course as wave after wave of self-loathing washed over her. She was in heaven. She dearly loved to be degraded in front of Rebecca's lover. This was exactly why he was present. 

Rebecca turned her attention to the slave's breasts. She reached out and cupped both globes proprietarily. 

"What about her tits? Don't they look like they're sagging more lately? And look at those nipples. Aren't they freakish?"

The man eyed the slaves breasts over the rim of his glass. 

Both nipples were pierced, of course. The rings were the same exact diameter as those adorning her vagina and had been up-sized according to the same schedule. Similar to the labial rings, the nipple rings were worn permanently, allowing gravity to do its work. 

The nipples, which had already been fairly large at baseline, we're now enormous. The areolae were as big and round as saucers. The nipples themselves were stretched over three times their initial length. The reddish brown nubbins of flesh dangled down with the weight of the metal rings a full two and a half inches. 

The breasts themselves had also started to succumb to the permanent traction of the heavy rings. Six months ago, they might have been described as firm or even perky. Now they were hanging almost flat against the slave's chest wall like compressed pancakes. 

A small golden bell was attached to each nipple ring. 

"They look more like udders, than tits," said the man caustically. 

Rebecca smiled. 

"That's right! That's it exactly!"

She turned to the slave. 

"Get down on all fours and ring your bells for us, dear. I want to really hear them chime."

The slave quickly dropped to her knees, then fell forward on to her hands. She began to rock her shoulders back and forth and sway her hips to create momentum. Her pendulous breasts began to sway beneath her. The bells began to ring. 

She felt a high heel dig in to her rump. 

"Louder, you old cow. And let me hear you moo!" hissed Rebecca. 

This was a new one. 

The slave picked up the pace of her movements. The bells rang more loudly. Then she began to moo softly. 

She felt a hard slap on her left ass cheek. The plug shifted uncomfortably in her ass under the force of the blow. 

It was the man. 

"Louder, Flossy," he barked cruelly. "I want to really hear you. Like your udders are full and you need a milking."

The slave mooed more loudly. The bells sang on. The lock dangled and swayed back and forth between her legs as she swayed her hips lewdly to keep the momentum going. 

"Mooooo! Mooooo! Moooo!"

Both the man and woman laughed uproariously above her and sipped their drinks. They actually high-fived each other a couple of times. 

This was a new low. Victoria Reynolds had never felt more humiliated in her life. Just that very morning, Dr. Victoria Reynolds had rounded on patients in the hospital, making life and death decisions. Now, here she was on her hands and knees in her own home, naked, collared, plugged and pierced and braying like a farm animal for the amusement of a junior resident. 

She was also about to cum. 

The lock swaying beneath her as she rocked had created a cadence of subtle friction between her dangling lips and some slight tension on the hood of her clit as her skin was stretched with each long arc of the lock's movement. The slave mooed louder and began to focus on the building sensation of impending release. 

It had been so long. 

The slave knew she would be punished if she came, but she didn't care. The sensations between her legs were too strong. The added frisson of her acute humiliation was just too much to bear. She was going to explode at any second. 

It was the sheer volume and fluidity of her own lubrication that thwarted her release. The man looked down casually and saw a long thin runner of clear, viscous fluid stretching unbroken from the slave's distended labia to the floor. 

"Oh, God, she's dripping all over the floor again, Rebecca," he said in disgust. 

The slave continued to rock back and forth. She mooed louder. 

She was so close. 

"That's enough!" shouted Rebecca firmly. She could see by the expression on the slaves face that she was close to orgasm. 

The slave continued to rock and moo, louder than ever. The rings tinkled. The bells chimed. 

"I said, that's enough!" Rebecca shouted again. 

The slave ignored her. She was almost there. 

Abruptly Rebecca reached down and grabbed the slave by the pony tail and jerked her head back, looking her in the face. 

"Don't you dare!" she screamed into the slave's face. 

Victoria finally stopped moving. She looked up into Rebecca's face for a few seconds, then began to cry. Rebecca released her hold on the pony tail. The slave hung her head between her shoulders and sobbed quietly. 

Suddenly, Rebecca turned tender. She began to stroke the slave's hair. 

"There, there," she cooed softly. "It's okay. It's perfectly natural, dear. Of course you want to cum. Nothing to be ashamed of, but you need to ask permission, sweetie. Remember, I own your pussy now. It's up to me when I let it cum," she added gently.  

She stood up straight and regarded the slave. 

"How long has it been, Victoria, since I allowed you release?"

The slave remained on all fours, staring down at the floor. 

"Almost two months, Miss Rebecca," said the slave bleakly. 

"My, my, that is a long time," replied the young mistress in mock consternation. "But you'll be happy to know I was going to let you cum tonight anyway. I have a little game I want to play."

The slave looked up sharply. 

"Really?" she blurted. 

Rebecca looked at the slave and scowled, raising an eyebrow. 

"Sorry. I mean really, Miss Rebecca?" asked the slave, chastened. 

"Yes, really. See, I have your key right here," said the Rebecca evenly, holding out the small golden key. "I was just waiting for the right moment."

Rebecca paused for a second and looked up, shaking her hips lightly back and forth as of testing the strength of her knees. 

"I think I'm ready now," said the young mistress cryptically. "All you have to do is ask."

The slave pushed herself up on to her haunches and looked up at her mistress, then over at the man who was watching the conversation with interest. She hesitated for a few seconds, wary of a trap. 

At last, the slave spoke. 

"Can I please cum, Miss Rebecca?" 

"Now, now, slut. Use the proper form, please. You know you don't get to cum like a real woman," said Rebecca archly, smiling at the man. 

The slave paused again for several beats before speaking again. 

"Can I please jingle my rings, for you, Miss Rebecca?" the slave asked softly. 

Rebecca smiled. 

"You sure you want to do it, cunt?" she asked. 

The slave beamed up at her mistress, nodding her head eagerly. Rebecca was reminded of a puppy begging for a treat. 

"Oh yes, Miss Rebecca, please. I'll do anything. I'll put on a good show for you, I promise," chirped the slave earnestly. 

Rebecca's smile widened. 

"I'm sure you will, cunt. I'm sure you will," said Rebecca. "I'll tell you what. Why don't you crawl into the living room and wait for us? I'll be there in a minute with your key."

Victoria crawled quickly out of the foyer toward the living room, her leash dragging behind her. When she was out of earshot, the man turned to Rebecca. 

"You're really going to let the old cunt cum? What's the occasion?" he asked between sips of his drink. 

Rebecca walked away toward the kitchen. 

"Follow me," she said over her shoulder. 

When they got to the well-appointed kitchen, Rebecca began to open and close cabinet doors rapidly. 

"What are you looking for?" asked the man, mildly interested now. 

"Aha! Here it is. Perfect!" Rebecca exclaimed, holding up a large clear glass mixing bowl. "This will do nicely."

She placed the bowl on the counter, then held up the key. With a theatrical flourish, she dropped the small key into the center of the deep mixing bowl, where it clattered loudly. 

Rebecca picked up the bowl and held it in front of her with two hands. 

"I'm in the mood for testing limits tonight," she said, smiling mischievously. 

"What did you have in mind?" asked Thomas playfully. Rebecca had his full attention now. 

The pretty young mistress paused for effect, then looked up at the man and batted her eyelashes seductively. 

"Tell me, Thomas, do you by any chance have to pee?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with merriment. 

The man regarded Rebecca blankly for a few seconds before it sunk in. He smiled broadly. 

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said, reaching for the bowl. 

Rebecca maintained her grip. 

"Not so fast," she said brightly, stepping toward the nearby powder room. 

She shifted the bowl to her left hand, opening the door with her right. 

"Ladies first," she said, stepping into the bathroom with the large bowl. 

"Don't worry," she added, as she closed the door behind her. "It's big enough for both of us."



Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 02



Welcome to my world where all women are lesbians and all lesbians are squirters and absolutely everyone is in to heavy BDSM. This story contains elements of consensual humiliation and a lot of sex. Our heroine continues to be degraded in her own home by her precious mean girl and her lover as a new dynamic emerges. As always, comments are welcome.

*****

Dr. Victoria Reynolds was beginning to get nervous. 

The middle-aged slave was currently naked, collared and plugged and kneeling on the carpet next to the coffee table in her own living room. She shifted slightly on her knees, feeling the familiar weight of the thick, metal rings adorning her vagina and nipples. The small gold bells affixed to her nipples tinkled musically whenever she changed position. The heavy brass lock threaded through her six labial rings dangled between her legs. 

The slave glanced at the clock on the mantle. She had been waiting for the couple she was hosting for over five minutes now. 

What was taking them so long?

The slave was giddy with anticipation. She had just been informed that she would be allowed to masturbate for the amusement of her young mistress and her lover, Thomas. She was looking forward to it immensely. Rebecca, her twenty-seven year old mistress, had not allowed the slave to cum for almost two months. 

The slave's pussy was already tingling in anticipation. She could feel her desire dripping down the insides of her thighs. Unconsciously she turned herself slightly toward the corner of the table. The broad mahogany surface of the black table was lacquered and smooth, but this one corner was chipped and pitted, pock-marked like the surface of the moon. A wave of self-loathing washed over the slave as she eyed the stark, physical evidence of her own debasement. 

Finally, there was the sound of footsteps, then out of the corner of her eye, the slave saw the man enter the room, carrying a champagne bottle and two glasses. She was careful to keep her gaze on the floor. The man ignored the slave and placed the champagne and glasses on the table and sat down heavily on the couch, blithely placing his wing-tipped clad feet up on the table. 

The mother and housewife in the slave wanted to scream at him to get his fucking feet off her nice coffee table, but of course the slave said nothing. She had strict instructions from her mistress: the slave was not permitted to speak to the man during their sessions without her permission. 

A moment later, the slave heard the sound of Rebecca's high heels clicking on the hardwood floor behind her. The footfalls softened as the young mistress gained the carpet of the living room. 

"Here's your key, darling," said Rebecca cheerily, setting down a large glass bowl filled almost to the brim with amber liquid on to the coffee table. 

The slave looked at the glass bowl for several long beats. She knew immediately that it contained urine. She could smell it. She could see the gold key to her lock twinkling at the bottom of the bowl. 

Rebecca sat down on the couch and crossed her legs nimbly. She reached out and took Thomas by the hand. The slave looked up at the couple expectantly. 

"Do you still want to jingle your rings for us, Dr. Reynolds?" asked the beautiful young resident mildly. "Put on a good show?"

The slave looked over at the bowl, then back at her mistress. 

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," she answered softly. 

The young mistress beamed down at her. 

"Let's play a game, Victoria," said Rebecca smiling down at the slave. "I call it 'choose or lose.' Basically I will give a choice of two tasks to complete. If you successfully complete one of the tasks, you can masturbate for us tonight. If, on the other hand, you decide that the tasks are both too onerous and you decline to complete either one, then you will lose the privilege of getting off tonight and I will add two months of additional enforced abstinence."

The slave remained still, staring at the shiny key at the bottom of the bowl. The lock dangling between her legs felt heavier than ever. 

"Do you want to play my little game?" asked Rebecca playfully. 

The slave looked up at her young mistress. 

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," she said sheepishly. 

"Wonderful," said Rebecca, reaching behind her back and producing a long plastic straw. She handed it to the slave. 

The slave stared at the straw in her hand, then over at the bowl. Her eyes widened in panic. 

"Choice number one is simple: drink the entire contents of the bowl in fifteen minutes or less," said Rebecca evenly. 

The slave looked over at the large bowl. She estimated it contained more than two quarts of urine. The slave looked up at Rebecca bleakly. 

The young mistress smiled down at the kneeling slave. 

"It's a mixed brew, mine and Thomas's," she said casually. 

Rebecca stood up and stepped around the kneeling slave and the coffee table, walking to the center of the large living room. She began to pace slowly back and forth. The slave craned her neck and tracked her young mistress with her eyes. 

Thomas remained seated. He looked at his watch. He appeared bored. 

"Becca, is this really necessary?" he asked impatiently. "Why not just let the old cunt get off, so we can go upstairs and fuck like regular humans?"

"Now, now, Thomas," replied Rebecca silkily. "Where's the fun in that? She hasn't even heard her second choice yet."

Rebecca stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the coffee table. She patted the kneeling slave on the head. 

"You do want to hear what's behind door number two, don't you sweetie?" she asked breezily. 

The slave hesitated for a beat, then replied. 

"Yes, Miss Rebecca."

"Oh, that's great. I can see you're going to be a good sport, Victoria. Your second task is a bit more complicated. You can start it tonight, but you'll have to complete it tomorrow."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave. 

"Remember when you introduced me to your next door neighbor, Marta?" asked Rebecca slyly. 

The slave was immediately put on guard. Rebecca visited her home frequently, even when friends and family were present, under the pretense of being mentored by the veteran surgeon. After all, the younger doctor was a surgical resident and Victoria was a respected attending vascular surgeon. Why wouldn't Dr. Reynolds take Rebecca under her wing?

As a result, Rebecca frequently attended dinner parties at the older physician's house and was often included in other activities with her circle of friends. On these occasions, the two women treated one another with respectful collegiality. No one would have suspected in a million years, that they were mistress and slave. Every now and then, they would discretely disappear into a powder room for a quick tongue session when the need arose, but for the most part they played it straight. 

It was at one of these lawn parties a few months earlier that Rebecca had been introduced to Marta. She was a a curvy cheerful fifty-something neighbor who favored mannish clothing, thick-soled black boots and crewcuts. A successful sculptor who made her fortune decades ago, she carried her legendary sexuality like a badge of honor. Her arms were covered in tattoos, many of them overtly sexual in design. 

"I'm the neighborhood bulldyke," she had said to Rebecca casually as they shook hands. 

Rebecca matched the firmness of the woman's grip, then admired the large tattoo on her forearm. It portrayed two shapely brunettes lovingly entwined in the sixty-nine position. 

"That's an interesting tattoo," said Rebecca, releasing Marta's hand. 

Marta looked down at the tattoo and shrugged. 

"You know what they say. You are what you eat, sugar" she had replied coyly, then looked over at Victoria. "Been trying to get in Vicky's pants for years now, but she's not having any of it," added the burly woman, smiling conspiratorially. It was obvious that the older woman was drunk. 

Victoria had turned crimson at the remark. 

"Marta, please!" hissed Victoria, "I work with these people. Take it easy on the wine, won't you?"

"See what I mean?" said Marta, looking at Rebecca appraisingly. "She's no fun at all, a complete square."

Then the large woman had placed her left hand on Rebecca's right elbow. 

"What about you, sweetie?" she had slurred. "You seem like a firecracker. Nice young doctor like you, I could teach you a thing or two."

Rebecca had eyed the older woman's hand cooly for a few seconds before reaching up and gently prizing the fingers from the crook of her arm. 

"I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate that," she had responded playfully. 

"Oh, well. Suit yourself," Marta said dismissively, already perusing the crowd for other potential conquests. "But if you change your mind, you know where I live," she had added indicating the large Tudor house next door. 

The slave was snapped back to the here and now when Rebecca reached down and twisted both nipple rings fiercely, setting her bells ringing loudly. 

"I asked you a question, cunt," she snapped down at Victoria. 

"Yes, Miss Rebecca. Sorry. Yes, I remember, Miss Rebecca," she responded warily. 

Rebecca paused for a few seconds, then reached down and cupped the slave's chin with her right hand, tilting her face upward until their eyes met. 

"Your second option is to call Marta right now and invite her over for coffee tomorrow morning," said Rebecca archly. 

The slave looked up into the younger woman's eyes, a pained expression on her face. She could see where this was going. 

"So you can eat her pussy," added Rebecca matter-of-factly. 

Rebecca stood and walked over to the couch, taking her customary seat next to Thomas. The man looked on, smiling thinly. 

"Tomorrow's Saturday. Thomas is taking me shopping in the city, so I won't be using you at all during the day. Your kids are still at camp, so you'll have the house to yourself. Plenty of time for you and Marta to get properly acquainted," continued Rebecca. 

Rebecca crossed her legs gracefully, then looked at her watch. 

"You have one minute to decide," she said primly. 

The slave looked down at the floor for several seconds, then over at the bowl of cooling urine. She nodded slowly to herself. 

"I'll take Marta," she said softly. 

"Excellent!" chirped Rebecca, clapping her hands excitedly. "I think that's a great choice. She'll be an excellent addition to our little inner circle. I'm sure we can trust her to be discrete about it. How long have you known her."

"About ten years, Miss Rebecca," croaked the slave. 

"I think it's wonderful that such an experienced connoisseur of cunnilingus lives in such close proximity. Who better to help train your tongue for me? You'll let her use you whenever she likes, of course. Her and her friends. You'll get all the practice you can handle. Didn't you tell me, she has an unending stream of lipstick lesbians going in and out of her house?"

The slave looked at the floor morosely. How much further could she fall?

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "She does appear to have a way with the ladies."

Rebecca reached over to the end table and retrieved the Dr. Reynolds iPhone. She handed it to the kneeling woman. 

"Call her and set it up. Be explicit about it. I want her to know why she is coming over," said Rebecca brusquely. "And keep it on speaker, please."

The slave looked down at the phone for several seconds formulating a plan. Finally, she shrugged and dialed. The call was answered on the third ring.

"Hello, Vicky," purred Marta's distinct voice. "What can I do for you, darling? Unusual for you to call at this hour." Her words were slightly slurred as if she had been drinking. 

"Hi, Marta," said the slave. "How are you doing tonight?"

"Oh I'm fine," replied Marta huskily. "Had a hot date tonight, an art student from the university. These young girls today are so forward, but I'm afraid I wore her out. She's asleep upstairs."

"That's great, Marta. Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I've been thinking about you a lot lately," said the slave. She paused and looked up at Rebecca and the man before continuing. 

"In fact, I can't get you out of my head. I know it's insane, but I'm just going to say it. I keep picturing myself naked on my knees and you telling me what to do..."

"Oh dear," interrupted Marta seductively. "Are you asking if you can eat my pussy, Vicky?"

The slave paused. 

"Yes, Marta. I guess I am. I...want to see what it's like," she added lamely. 

"I knew it!" cackled the large woman over the phone. "I knew you couldn't be as prim and proper as you appear. Fancy a little quim, do you? Well, you wouldn't be the first straight girl I've turned," said Marta coyly. "Sure Vicky. I'd be delighted to let you eat my pussy. All you have to do is ask, darling."

"Great. Can you come over tomorrow for coffee at about ten-thirty, so we can talk about it?"

"Sure. I'll come over, but you won't be doing a lot of talking with that cute little mouth of yours."

"Yes, I guess you're right, Marta. Not much else to say is there?"

"What about your husband, Vicky? He's not in on this is he?" asked Marta slyly. 

"Oh, no, Marta. He won't be around tomorrow. He's spending the weekend with his..friend." 

The slave bit back her tongue. She had almost told Marta the truth, that her husband was with his young girlfriend this weekend. He spent most weekends with her when the kids were away. 

"How wonderful. It will be just us girls, then. Okay, it's a date, Vicky. I'll see you tomorrow," said Marta and broke the connection. 

Victoria placed her phone down in the coffee table, then looked up at her young mistress. 

"Did I do okay, Miss Rebecca?" she asked earnestly. "Can I jingle my rings now? You promised, Miss Rebecca," she added querulously. 

"Of course you can, Victoria, but you're forgetting your manners. Is it not customary for a one to relieve one's guests before thinking of one's own pleasure?" asked the young mistress reasonably. 

The slave's eyes widened at her faux pas. 

"Of course, Miss Rebecca. Please. I apologize for my insult. I meant no disrespect."

"Not to worry, Victoria. You have a lot on your mind," said Rebecca, patting the slave's head. "I'll tell you what. Why don't you go dump the bowl in the toilet and get your key. Be sure to rinse it off for me. Then you can come back and service me while Master Thomas uses your ass. How does that sound?"

"That sounds wonderful, Miss Rebecca!" replied the slave eagerly, already rising to her feet. 

The slave reached down and picked up the bowl with both hands, then walked slowly out of the living room, being careful not to spill a drop. A moment later came the sound of a toilet flushing, followed by water running from the faucet.

The man looked over at Rebecca. 

"I still can't believe the old cunt gets off on being treated like this," he said conversationally. "What does she get out of it? You hardly ever let her cum. All we do is use and abuse her. I just don't get it."

"It's the humiliation," said Rebecca matter-of-factly. "She craves it. The more over the top, the better. When you're around, the intensity is amplified ten-fold. It's why she's always asking me to bring you to our little sessions. I hope you don't mind being dragged into our little dynamic. You are still happy with our arrangement, aren't you?"

"I like it fine," said the man softly. He reached over and out his arm around Rebecca. "I think she's pathetic, but I don't mind playing with her as long as I get to fuck your sweet pussy at the end of the night."

"Oh, I'm counting in it, lover," she said breathlessly. "She's just warming me up for you."

Dr. Reynolds chose that moment to scamper back into the living room. She immediately knelt down in front of the couple, placing her key on the table. 

"How may this cunt please you?" she asked softly, looking down at the floor. 

The man and woman look down at the kneeling slave, then at each other. 

"Undress Master Thomas, please," ordered the young mistress. 

Dr. Victoria Reynolds crawled over to Thomas and untied his shoes before gently removing them and placing them on the floor. Next, she removed the man's sox, kissing each foot reverently. The man stood. The slave carefully unbuckled his belt and peeled down his expensive suit pants, then stood and folded them neatly, placing them on the back of a nearby chair. She returned to her knees and tugged off the man's boxer shorts, allowing his erection to spring free. The slave kissed the head of the cock once. 

The slave stood again, then reached up and loosened, then removed the man's silk tie. Finally, she expertly unbuttoned his tailored shirt, pulling it smoothly off his shoulders and draping it nearly on the chair with the pants. 

All this time, the man regarded the slave with cool detachment. This was a familiar ritual. Victoria always undressed Thomas during their sessions with Miss Rebecca. When he was nude, the man sat down on the couch and spread his legs. 

"Get him hard with your mouth, so he can fuck your ass," said Rebecca curtly. 

The slave immediately dropped to her knees and crossed her wrists behind her back. She was never permitted to use her hands when servicing Master Thomas. She was not worthy of touching him. She leaned forward and licked the underside of the bulbous head of his large cock, swirling her tongue under the sensitive tissue the way he liked, then she looked up in to the man's eyes expectantly. 

The man paused for a second, then nodded. 

The slave leaned forward and deep-throated the entire length of the man's stiffening eight inch cock in one gulp. She paused with her nose pressing against the man's coarse pubic hair, breathing easily through her nose, then began to swallow briskly, systematically contracting the muscles of her throat around the entire length of the man's thick shaft. 

Dr. Reynolds no longer had a gag reflex. 

The slave had been well-trained at sucking cock over the past few months. Under the careful supervision of Rebecca, the she had serviced janitors, store clerks, waiters, students and even an octogenarian. When Rebecca told her to suck cock, Victoria dropped to her knees and opened her mouth, no questions asked. 

On several occasions, the doctor had gotten a text in the middle of the day that said simply "suck a random cock today." Sometimes, the command would be more specific, such as "suck a cock half your age," or "suck a cock twice your age." The slave found that the truck stop on the edge of down was the best place to go when random cocks were required. 

The slave had no moral qualms about these extramarital oral dalliances. Victoria was now owned by Miss Rebecca, her special mean girl. She was no longer encumbered by the conventional bonds of matrimony. The slave did as she was told. If her mistress wanted to turn the prim and proper middle-aged physician into the town cock-whore, then that is exactly what she would happily become. 

Rebecca was always discrete when she rented out her slave's mouth. She shied away from giving her to anyone associated with the hospital, except when it amused her to have the slave service a person she already knew from work. These more intimate assignations always took place at Rebecca's apartment with the slave hooded. 

Ironically, it was the slave's husband who benefitted most from his wife's newfound cock-sucking skills during his twice-daily prescribed blow jobs. But if he noticed any improvement in her oral-lingual mechanics, he kept it to himself. He just grunted as he came down her throat every morning and evening, then pushed her away. 

He husband never asked where she had been when Victoria was suddenly sent out on her frequent jaunts, even after her mistress had ordered the slave to go home to him with two thick loads of semen still clearly visible drying on her face. He had just shaken his head in disgust, then went back to reading the paper. He didn't care. He had his girlfriend now. She was free to do as she liked. 




Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 02



Rebecca looked on proprietarily as her slave expertly serviced Thomas's cock, then stood. 

She reached under her short skirt and hooked her thumbs over the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her shapely legs, then stepped out of hem daintily. She eyed the slave predatorily as she folded the black silk thong neatly and placed it on the coffee table, then sat back down and spread her legs, hitching her skirt above her waist. 

Absently, Rebecca began to fondle her pussy gently as she watched her slave work. 

Victoria's current ministrations were having their predictable effect on his anatomy. After massaging him with her throat for a few minutes, the slave began to glide up and down effortlessly on the shaft, maintaining constant suction. She had been trained to suck cock at a steady forty-five revolutions per minute and she never deviated from this pace. She didn't gag or sputter once, but remained completely silent. After another minute, the cock in her mouth was fully hard. The man pushed her away. 

Rebecca snapped her fingers and pointed at her crotch. 

Without a word, the slave crawled quickly between the legs of her mistress and buried her face in the familiar, neatly trimmed pussy. Rebecca sighed contentedly and settled back into the couch. 

The only thing Dr. Victoria Reynolds was better at than sucking cock was eating pussy. 

The slave's time spent sucking anonymous cock was minuscule compared to eons she spent between the legs of her young mistress. She literally had callouses on her knees. Rebecca had a capacious sexual appetite and would often employ the older doctor's tongue a half dozen times a day. The slave spent almost every lunch hour at the hospital kneeling in the footwell of the desk in her office lovingly sucking and licking her mistress from one quivering orgasm to the next.

She had been trained to make her mistress cum quickly, but she could also make it last and linger if that is what her mistress desired. 

Presently, the slave was going for a fast one. 

Victoria was moaning loudly into the soft, tender flesh of Rebecca's vagina, licking up and down the slit with long, deep draughts of her well-trained tongue. Within seconds, Victoria could feel the delicate petals opening before her. She redoubled her efforts and expertly tongue-fucked her mistress several times, burying the full length of the twitching and quivering pink muscle into her depths. 

Thomas got down on his knees behind the slave. He looked on as the she tended to his lover. He stroked his cock absently, remembering the first time he had seen the middle-aged slave crawl between the legs of her young mistress. He had been surprised and oddly fascinated by the slave's obvious hunger for Rebecca's pussy. Who would have suspected that such a straight-laced, all American soccer mom like Dr. Victoria Reynolds would turn out to be such an enthusiastic pussy hound. 

The man smiled thinly to himself at the irony of it all, then reached down and abruptly pulled the plug out of the slave's ass. There was an audible plop and Victoria grunted into Rebecca's vulva, but did not lose her rhythm. The slave shifted her attention to the younger woman's clit, flicking the stiffening nubbin of flesh expertly with the point of her tongue. 

Thomas examined the slave's dilated anus with a practiced eye. He was used to the sight. The distended orifice had been systematically stretched over the past few months and now gaped and winked obscenely following the sudden removal of the over-sized plug. The passage was red-rimmed and somewhat raw from regular penetration. As he lined up his thick cock in the usual manner, the man regarded the dangling lock still holding the stretched inner labia tightly closed and was again struck by the utter surreality of the situation. He knew that the slave had never had a cock in her ass before she fell under the spell of Rebecca. Now, this was the only way she ever got fucked. 

For the millionth time, Thomas asked himself the familiar question that always danced and capered in the back of his mind during these sessions with Rebecca and her unlikely middle-aged slave: Why would anyone allow themselves to be used like this? 

Shaking his head, the man dismissed the thought. It was obvious that the slave loved it. Even now, the woman was groaning in ecstasy, making odd snorting noises and snapping her lips and tongue loudly into the wet flesh of Rebecca's pussy. After a moment, the slave began to wiggle her hips seductively, wordlessly enticing the man to take her. Thomas was struck by the sheer debauchery of the gesture, the inherent wantonness of the act. Nobody had told the slave do that. She did it because she wanted a cock in her ass. It was as simple as that. 

The man shrugged his shoulders, then reached down and put both hands on the slave's hips, then leaned forward and thrust, burying the entire length of his cock to the hilt. As usual, there came a slight scream from the slave at the roughness of the invasion, but still her tongue did not slacken in Rebecca's pussy. 

The man began to saw in and out of the slave's ass, smacking both cheeks from time to time. He enjoyed watching his large hand prints blossom in scarlet geographic patterns on the woman's pale globes when he used her ass. 

Dr. Reynolds pushed herself back against Thomas's large cock as she had been trained. She also began to contract her anal sphincter rhythmically to enhance his pleasure and hasten his release. In front of her, Rebecca's pussy quickened beneath her tongue. 

"Ohh, yesssss, cunt. Such a good tongue you have, slut. I'm going to cum now. Drink it down." Rebecca breathed hoarsely. 

Rebecca thrust her pussy against her slave's tongue, grinding herself against the bridge of the middle-aged woman's nose. She rocked back and forth roughly, carried along higher and higher now on the rising tide of her impending orgasm. At last, Rebecca froze and lifted her ass off the couch, she reached down placed both hands around the back of the slave's head and and pulled her face into her quivering cunt. 

"Ahhh! Fuck! Yesssss!" screamed Rebecca as her climax raged through her. 

As usual, the young mistress squirted copiously when she came on her slave's face. Victoria leaned in and sucked up each gout of nectar as it spouted up from between the delicate lips of Rebecca's contracting cunt. Victoria didn't spill a drop. She was an expert. She clamped her lips tightly around the spewing vault of Rebecca's vagina and drank greedily, her throat working loudly to keep up with the volume of her mistress's secretions. 

After a minute, it was over. Rebecca remained still, catching her breath as the slave proceeded to meticulously clean her, lapping up the residue of her release from belly, thighs and ass. When she was satisfied, the young woman pushed the slave away and stood. 

Rebecca stepped up to the man and bent down to kiss him deeply as he continued to leisurely fuck the slave's ass from behind. The slave looked down at the ground stoically and continued to grind her ass against the man's cock. After breaking the kiss, Thomas picked up his pace. It was clear his own climax was not far away. 

"Finish on her face," said Rebecca casually, sitting back down on the couch. 

The man continued thrusting for a few more seconds, then abruptly withdrew his cock. He stood and positioned himself above the slave's face. The slave continued to kneel meekly, the expression on her upturned face placid and serene as she waited for Rebecca's lover to ejaculate. The man stroked himself for a few beats, then erupted, his semen leaping across the slave's face in thick, ropey strands. 

When he was done, the man stepped away and sat back down on the couch next to his lover. 

Rebecca snapped her fingers. 

"Clean him, cunt," she said curtly. "Thomas is going to be making love to me upstairs and I don't want your disgusting ass-juice getting in my nice clean pussy."

The slave crawled between the man's legs and began to systematically lick and suckle his cock clean. It only took her about two minutes to complete the job on the man's head and shaft. Then, she shifted slightly and began to clean her residue from the man's scrotum and ass-crack. 

When she was done, the slave leaned back on her haunches. 

"All done, sir," she said softly and waited for further instructions. 

Rebecca stood and regarded the kneeling slave. Thomas's semen coated the older woman's lips and chin. There was a thick ribbon clinging to the slave!s right eyebrow, hanging obliquely across the bridge of her nose. The slave made no move to clean herself. She had been trained. 

"Oh, well. A deal's a deal. Squat on the table, please, Victoria," said Rebecca finally. "Dangle position."

The slave moved quickly to get herself in to the position her mistress used to examine or punish her vagina. She immediately stood, then clambered on to the broad surface of the table, her rings and bells tinkling and ringing as she went. She squatted down, spreading her legs widely and balancing herself on the balls of her feet. When she was sure she was steady on her perch, the slave laced her fingers behind her head and thrust out her breasts. The heavy lock between her legs dangled and bobbed, stretching her inner lips obscenely and almost touching the surface of the table 

The mistress regarded the slave icily. The man on the couch was absently stroking his large cock as he sipped champagne. He took out his smartphone and began to idly check his email. He looked bored. He appeared not notice the middle aged, naked woman who was presently on display in her own living room. 

At last, rebecca reached forward, her hand brandishing the small gold key. The slave grunted as the the younger woman tugged roughly on the lock, tilting it upward to insert the key. The mechanism clicked and the lock opened. The younger woman carefully unthreaded the six labial rings, from around the long curved hasp, then set the lock on the table. 

The slave's vagina gaped. Freed from their enclosure, the delicate inner lips parted and dangled loosely between the slave's legs like thick fleshy curtains. The labia were distended and swollen with arousal, swaying lightly under the weight of the thick steel rings. 

The young mistress sat down heavily and regarded the slave's genitalia clinically. She reached out and gently tapped the rings, setting them in motion like a desktop pendulum set. 

"Has it really been two months, cunt?" asked Rebecca, watching the rings swing and bob. 

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave. "It was when you're friend was visiting from medical school," she added. 

"Oh, that's right," said Rebecca. "She didn't believe you were my slave, so I had you come over and jingle on your lunch hour. That was fun wasn't it, Victoria?"

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave honestly. "It was fun. She tasted good."

"What did you use then, at my place?" asked Rebecca evenly. 

The slave looked down at the floor. 

"I used that little wooden shoebox you had in your closet, Miss Rebecca. I did it on the living room floor."

"That's right. I almost had to throw it out. You made such a mess."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca. It was a good one." The slave said wistfully, conscious of the weight of the cooling, wet semen on her face as her face crinkled into a grin. 

Rebecca bent down and picked up her folded panties, then reached over and carefully wiped down the slave's face, gathering all the viscous semen into the delicate fabric. 

"Open," said Rebecca flatly. 

The slave opened wide and breathed through her nose as Rebecca stuffed the panties into her mouth. 

"So we don't have to hear you mewling as you rut," she said coldly. "Get on with it," she added dismissively, leaning back on the couch and picking up her glass of champagne. 

The slave dropped down quickly to all fours. She crawled over toward the cracked and scarred corner of the coffee table, then moved past it a few feet, getting herself into position. She looked over her shoulder to ensure proper alignment, then began to slowly back herself up against the blunted corner, guiding the triangular edge into the vertex of her vagina. After a moment, she lifted her left leg slightly, like a dog about to pee, then seemed to settle herself down on to the pitted wedge of mahogany. 

The man reached down and quickly picked up the champagne bottle from the table. 

"Don't want any spillage," he said casually to Rebecca. 

When she was satisfied with her position, the slave craned her neck and looked up at her mistress expectantly, waiting for the usual command. 

Rebecca paused for a moment, enjoying the absolute power she wielded over the older physician. 

"Hump," said the young mistress cooly. 

The slave began to hump herself rapidly against the table. Her thick labial rings began to jingle merrily. 

The man looked up briefly from his iPhone at the commotion, then quickly looked away, disinterested. He had seen the slave jingle her rings dozens of times. He refilled his champagne glass. 

Rebecca regarded the spectacle with a look of deep satisfaction. 

When she first took ownership of the older woman, the young mistress made several immediate changes to the slave's masturbation habits. First and foremost, Dr. Reynolds was informed that she would only be permitted release with Rebecca's permission and under her direct supervision. 

Secondly, the manner of masturbation had to change. On her first visit to the house, the young mistress ordered the slave to collect all of her sex toys. It turned out that Dr. Reynolds had an impressive selection of vibrators and dildos. Rebecca gathered them up in her arms and threw them in the garbage. 

"Real women use sex toys. Cunts don't," said Rebecca reasonably. 

Dr. Reynolds was told to abstain completely until her mistress could come up with a strategy for strictly supervised masturbation that would include a suitable amount of humiliation for the slave. It wasn't enough to just get herself off. She had to debase herself in the process. 

Rebecca spent hours online researching the age-old art of frottage and various other vulvar grinding techniques. Since the slave would never again be allowed any form of vaginal intercourse, dildos and vibrators were out of the question. The mistress decided also to deny the slave the dignity of using her fingers as well. That was just too easy. At last Rebecca narrowed her focus to one specialized form of non-penetrative sex. 

Hands-free humping. 

Rebecca watched several videos online of women humping other people's feet in order to gain release. She decided to try the technique out with her slave. At their next session, the slave was ordered to get on her knees and hump herself against the toe of Rebecca's left shoe. The man was present on that occasion and laughed uproariously at the spectacle. After fifteen minutes of furious rocking, the slave was able to achieve orgasm. As Dr. Victoria Reynolds, licked the smooth leather upper clean, her mistress began to formulate a permanent plan for the future. 

The young mistress knew she was on the right track, but she realized right away that having the slave hump her foot was just not humiliating enough. There was something entirely too human about the interface of cunt and foot. Rebecca wanted something even more extreme and degrading. 

At last, the young mistress came up with a solution that would combine masturbation, humiliation and degradation in equal parts. She decided to inform the slave of her new plan during one of their marathon tongue sessions taking place over the course of their lunch hour in the older doctor's office. 

"I want you to learn to hump the furniture," Rebecca informed the slave simply. 

At the moment, the older woman's tongue was re-acquainting itself with the contours of Rebecca's delicate rosebud. 

"That's the only way I'm ever going to allow you to cum from now on, by rubbing yourself up against household furniture," added Rebecca evenly, to make sure the slave clearly understood the specifics of the order. "Hard edges only. No pillows or cushions. I want you to rub yourself raw."

The young mistress felt the tongue in her ass waver slightly as the implications of the dictum sunk in. Then, the tongue was withdrawn and the slave looked up at her mistress. Victoria held the younger woman's gaze for a few beats, then lowered her eyes and went back to licking ass.

"As you wish, Miss Rebecca," she whispered into the damp flesh of Rebecca's taint, then executed a graceful pirouette with her tongue inside Rebecca's anus. 

The slave was given two weeks to practice her technique before she would be required to demonstrate her proficiency in front of her mistress. If she failed, she would be dismissed. 

So, Dr. Victoria Reynolds, board certified vascular surgeon, wife and soccer mom, set about learning how to achieve orgasm by humping the furniture in her upscale home. 

The slave spent hours wandering around the house naked, with her kids and husband asleep upstairs, rubbing her pussy up against various pieces of furniture. She tried chair backs, table legs, bedposts and even doorknobs before finally, literally, settling on her special corner of the coffee table in the living room. 

She learned that if she got down on all fours and backed herself on to the rounded corner edge of the coffee table, she could create enough friction to get herself off. The first time she humped the table, it took her forty five minutes to cum. 

She improved her technique rapidly. The doctor got up in the middle of the night every night for a solid week and crept downstairs to hone her skills. Soon, she was able to cum with only five minutes of vigorous humping. One night, she grunted herself to seven quiet orgasms in a row while her husband and children slept on upstairs. 

By the time she was called upon to demonstrate her technique to her mistress, Dr. Reynolds had become somewhat of an expert at the little practiced art of coffee table humping. The slave was able to cum for Rebecca after grinding herself against her corner for only three minutes. 

The young mistress pronounced herself satisfied and reiterated her injunction that the slave not be permitted release in any other way. Obedient as always, Dr. Reynolds remained on intimate terms with her corner of the table, eschewing all other forms of masturbation. She simply accepted that she would never be allowed to have a normal, penetrative orgasm again. 

When the labial rings were placed, the slave began to jingle loudly when she bounced her sex frantically against the table. This amused her mistress and added to the spectacle. After only a short while, the repetitive rhythmic impact of of the heavy steel rings began to chip and gouge the smooth, lacquered surface of the table, but the jewelry also had a beneficial effect. The constant traction of the thick rings held the slave's inner labia more and more open with each passing day. This allowed the slave to achieve deeper penetration against the table corner and exert ever more pressure on her g-spot as she humped. 

The result was spectacular. 

Largely as a result of the new labial geometry produced by her dangling rings, Dr. Reynolds became a squirter at the age of forty-two. As the rings were up-sized and the stretching of her inner labia progressed, the effect was amplified as more and more pressure was exerted on her g-spot. As a result, the force and volume of the slave's squirts steadily increased. 

Rebecca was thrilled. 

Early on, right after the rings were placed, the young mistress would watch her slave jingle her rings for hours, each explosive orgasm more powerful than the last. She often invited friends from out of town over to watch. 




Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 02



Then, abruptly, the mistress stopped letting the slave cum. The only explanation she offered was that the slave should learn to focus on the pleasure of her mistress and her lover, Thomas, instead of her own selfish desires. 

Now it had been almost two months. 

Presently, Dr. Reynolds picked up the pace of her movements, grunting around the panties in her mouth as she pressed herself harder against the firm surface of the wood. Her rump jiggled and the heavy rings jangled and danced loudly beneath her. The bells attached to the slave's distended nipples chimed loudly with each thrust. 

Rebecca took a sip of champagne and regarded the slave cooly. 

She could tell the slave was about to cum. There was a flush forming at the nape of her neck. 

She was already starting to leak on to the table, the corner becoming slick with her dew. It wouldn't be long now. 

At last the slave looked up at her mistress and spoke around the sodden panties in her mouth. Her words were muffled, but quite understandable to Rebecca. She was well acquainted with the mantra of her slave's release. 

"An I phlease hum, iss Ebecca?" shouted the slave hoarsely over the cacophony of her rings. 

Rebecca paused for a few seconds, savoring the obvious extremity of the slave's desperation.

The slave bit down on the panties, freeing her tongue. She jangled more loudly than ever. 

"Can I please cum, Miss Rebecca?" she pleaded again. "Please?" She was begging now. 

Rebecca paused for a few more seconds, then nodded her head almost imperceptibly. 

The slave screamed, then reared her ass up, arching her back once and lifting herself off the table before slamming her cunt down on the corner one last time. 

She exploded. 

She came in great gouts of gushing fluid. All the frustration of the last two months literally welled up from the core of her being and splashed out onto the table. Rebecca was reminded of a foal being born as she watched the torrent surge out of the slaves distended vagina. For a moment, she could actually see the walls of the gaping pussy rippling as wave after wave of contractions passed through the delicate flesh. The slave's anus, still dilated and distended from her recent ass-fucking, opened and closed spasmodically, winking crazily at Rebecca for several seconds. 

Finally, it was over. The slave rested herself on the table for a few seconds panting around the panties in her mouth. A long runner of drool ran down from her chin to the floor. Several hairs had escaped from her pony tail and now hung damply down her face. After a second she gently disengaged herself from her perch and sat back on her haunches looking at the floor.

Rebecca looked down at her spent slave, then over at the coffee table. The corner was coated with the slave's secretions. There was also a large puddle about the size of a dinner plate that dripped slowly on to the carpet where it overran the edge of the table. Rebecca noticed for the first time that there was a permanent stain on the carpet beneath the corner from repeated saturations over the last few months. 

"Lick up your slop, please, Vicroria," said Rebecca mildly. 

The slave crawled slowly to the corner of the table and began to methodically lick and slurp up cooling pool of her own squirt. She was efficient and precise, lapping up her essence with a practiced economy of movement. In less than a minute, the table was dry. The slave rested back on her haunches. 

Rebecca bent to examine the table. 

"There's some running down the leg," she said evenly. 

Rebecca and Thomas looked down impassively as the slave quickly bent forward and ran her tongue up and down the lacquered surface of the rounded table leg, curling the tip to catch the errant drops. In only a moment, she was done. She sat back on her haunches. 

Rebecca bent forward and stared down at the older woman. 

"Don't you have something you want to say to me, Victoria?"

"Thank you for letting your cunt cum, Miss Rebecca," she replied softly. 

"You're quite welcome, dear," said Rebecca, leaning back on the couch. 

Rebecca reached down and picked up the open lock. She tossed it to the slave. 

"Go upstairs and lock yourself up again, please," she said curtly. "Then, prepare our bed. Thomas and I will be up directly."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave glumly, looking down at the hated lock, the symbol of her own servility. 

When the slave had gone, the man reached over and refilled Rebecca's glass. 

"You going to let her watch tonight?" he asked idly. 

"I haven't decided. What do you think?" said Rebecca. 

"Makes no difference to me," said the man dismissively, then stood up, holding out his hand. "Shall we go, darling? You've kept me waiting far too long with your theatrics."

Rebecca smiled up at the man, then took his hand and stood. 

"Of course," she said warmly. 

The man, totally at ease with his own nudity, put his right arm around Rebecca's waist and led her to the stairs. 

When they reached the master bedroom, they found the slave kneeling at the foot of the bed with her hands laced behind her head. The lock once again dangling between her legs. 

The covers had been turned down and the fresh white linen shone in the dim light from the scented candles the slave had lit on both nightstands. 

The man and woman ignored the slave and set about their usual nighttime ablutions in the bathroom. After a few minutes the couple emerged from the bathroom, both nude. They sat down on opposite sides of the bed, chatting amiably. 

"What are we looking for on our little shopping expedition tomorrow?" asked the man conversationally, removing his expensive watch and placing it on the nightstand. 

"I was thinking of getting some shoes. Maybe some bigger studs" she replied breezily as she removed her current one-carat diamond studs from her ears. "Any objections?" she added, cocking an eyebrow. 

"You're using her credit card, right?" the man asked, nodding toward the kneeling slave. 

"Of course," Rebecca replied. "I could never afford the things I like on a resident's salary."

"So why should I care, then? It's her dough," said the man reasonably. "Let's have lunch in the city, then dinner here in town. We staying at your place tomorrow night?"

"Yes," replied Rebecca, scooting up on to the bed and resting her back against the headboard. "Let's give Victoria a rest. Marta's probably going to wear her out tomorrow, anyway."

She snapped her fingers and spread her legs, patting the mattress between the vertex of her thighs with her right hand. 

The slave immediately scrambled on to the bed and positioned herself between Rebecca's legs. She crossed her wrists behind her back and leaned her face in until her tongue made contact with Rebecca's sex. She began to lick greedily, looking up into Rebecca's eyes as she worked. 

Rebecca gathered up the the slave's leash absently and coiled it in her left hand, then reached down and absently ran the fingers of her right hand through the slave's hair. 

"That's a good girl, Victoria," cooed Rebecca. "Get me ready for Thomas's cock."

The slave redoubled her efforts, probing more deeply into the wet depths, then flattened her tongue and began to lick up the length of Rebecca's slit in long, languid strokes. 

"That's it, sweetie. Just like that."

Emboldened, the slave shifted her efforts to Rebecca's clit, curling her tongue expertly to retract the delicate hood, then closing her lips around the plump nubbin of flesh. She began to suckle the tender button. 

There was a loud crack as Rebecca swatted the slaves left ass cheek with the leather-looped handle of the leash. 

"Not the clit!" barked Rebecca sharply. "Just lick up and down. I don't want to cum, you dumb cunt. You know better than that. Just get me up to a good lather."

Chastened, the slave went back to running her tongue up and down Rebecca's slit. In only another minute, the flow of her essence noticeably increased as her pussy ripened beneath Victoria's trained tongue. 

Rebecca pushed the slave away roughly. 

"Fluff him for me. Quickly now," said Rebecca harshly. 

Thomas had been watching the slave tend to Rebecca with only mild interest. He was quite used to the pre-coital ritual. Now he spread his legs to allow the slave access to his stiffening cock. The slave immediately crawled over and began to suck him vigorously. In only a minute, he was fully erect. Thomas pushed the slave away. 

"Go to your corner, cunt," said Rebecca breathlessly. "Facing the wall, please."

Rebecca lay down flat and spread her legs. 

As Thomas climbed on top of Rebecca, the slave slinked away. She climbed down from the bed and crawled to a corner of the room where a cushion rested near the elbow of the wall. This was her corner. It was where the slave always knelt when the couple made love. 

Victoria rose up on her knees on the cushion and faced the wall. She crossed her wrists at the small of her back and waited. 

For the next half hour, Thomas and Rebecca made loud and passionate love. The slave in the corner listened intently to the familiar sounds of her young mistress reaching orgasm after orgasm as Thomas worked his usual magic with his prodigious cock. Rebeca screamed and moaned, urging him on as she rode the waves of pleasure from one crashing climax to the next. 

The slave's own pussy pulsed as she heard the wet, slapping sound of Thomas plunging his cock in and out of Rebecca's tight pussy. The slave had seen them fuck dozens of time, but she was always impressed by how taught the skin of Rebecca's vagina became as she stretched herself around the generous girth of Thomas's cock. She imagined how much tighter Rebecca's pussy must be compared to her own. The thought always aroused her. 

At last, Rebecca began to grunt rhythmically with each thrust. She was past screaming now. The speed of Thomas's thrusts quickened even further as his own orgasm approached. There came the sound of grunting also from Thomas now followed by a long, deep atavistic growl. 

Then it was over. 

Rebecca screamed out one last orgasm as Thomas erupted inside her. She could feel his cock pulsate as he released jet after jet of his seed deep inside her. When he had emptied himself completely, he lay still atop her. The slave could hear the sound of the couple kissing tenderly and whispering sweet nothings to each other as they basked in the glow of their lovemaking. 

The slave heard the bed shift behind her as the man climbed off Rebecca and settled himself beside his young lover. 

The slave remained kneeling, waiting for the signal. 

Rebecca snapped her fingers. 

The slave immediately pivoted on her knees and dropped to all fours. The lock between her legs dangled and danced as she crawled quickly back to the bed. She climbed up on to the mattress and positioned her face between Rebecca's spread legs. 

For a long moment, the slave regarded the younger woman's pussy. The labia were thick and wet with arousal. Her opening was stretched, the delicate inner lips gaping. Thick strands of pearlescent semen were overrunning the vault of the vagina, dripping down Rebecca's taint and and disappearing in to the crack of her ass. There were several large dollops already smeared on her inner thighs. 

The slave felt a tug on her leash. 

"What are you waiting for, cunt? Clean me out. I'm tired. I want to go to sleep," said the young mistress sharply. 

The slave bent to her task. 

Thomas picked up the remote and clicked on the television. He didn't give the woman between Rebecca's legs a second look. He had to turn up the volume several times to hear the newscaster over the sound of the slave's continuous slurping and sucking. Rebecca watched the news as well, absently shifting herself several times to allow the slave to slither her tongue more deeply into her vagina and anus. 

After five minutes, the slave's practiced tongue had completed the job. She brought her face away from Rebecca's crotch and looked up. 

"All done, Miss Rebecca," said the slave softly. 

Rebecca reached down and inserted the first two fingers of her right hand into her vagina, swirling them around to scoop out any residual pockets of semen that may have remained inside her. As usual, her fingers came away shiny, but empty. She held them up to the slave who quickly licked and sucked them clean. 

The young mistress motioned the slave away with a backward sweep of her right hand, then dropped her head back in to the pillow. She was asleep in only seconds. 

Victoria shifted position and, moving as quietly as possible so as not to wake her mistress, crawled between the legs of the man. This was her favorite part of their bed-time ritual, cleaning Thomas after he made love to Rebecca. 

The man's thick, semi-erect cock glistened in the blue light cast by the television. The slave opened her mouth and took in the large head, savoring the unique taste of Rebecca's juices mixed with the last drops of semen that trickled out into her mouth. When she was satisfied that she had sucked out all the remaining cum, the slave shifted slightly and drew his entire length down her throat. She bobbed up and down slowly, slurping up the patina of the couple's mixed secretions. 

When the head and shaft were clean, the slave gently nuzzled her face under the man's cock, nudging it sideways to gain access to his scrotum. She lapped at the wrinkled flesh for several minutes, then stabbed her tongue beneath the sac to systematically clean the man's taint and anus. 

When she was done, the slave kissed the head of the cock reverently, then looked up at the man. 

"All done, sir," she said softly. "Sleep well, Master Thomas. Shall I wake you at five-thirty as usual?"

"Yes, that would be fine, cunt" he responded gruffly, pushing her away and switching off the television. 

The slave slid off the bed and remained on her knees. In the dim candlelight, she watched the man roll over and spoon with Rebecca. Within only a minute, he too was asleep. The slave regarded the couple for a few moments, then crawled to a nearby chair and retrieved her blanket. 

She laid the thin blanket out flat on the floor at the foot of the bed, then crawled to each night stand and blew out the candles. 

Now, guided only by starlight, the slave crawled back to the foot of the bed. She reached up and looped the leather handle of her leash over the bedpost and settled down on her blanket. She quietly reviewed the day's events with a deep sense of profound satisfaction. She knew she had done well. Rebecca and her lover had enjoyed themselves. Within minutes, the slave was fast asleep. 

The next morning, the Victoria was up before the sun as usual. 

The slave remained still on the floor for a few more minutes, going over the details of the previous night's session, her pussy pulsating with each remembered humiliation. Her mean girl had been on her game last night, that was for sure. 

The slave craned her neck to look at the bedside clock. It was almost time to wake the sleeping couple. 

The slave shifted her position on the floor, then got up in her knees. She moved very slowly to minimize the tinkling of her leash and body jewelry. She looked over at the slumbering man and woman she now served. They looked so peaceful sleeping side by side. The slave had to admit they made a handsome couple. 

The slave's eyes were drawn to the large photograph hanging over the bed. It was her favorite wedding picture. The sun was out and the happy couple was smiling down at the camera. They both looked impossibly young and innocent, but there was no escaping the fact that the seeds of her dark, irresistible compulsion had been planted on that very day. 

The slave wondered how her life would be now if she had never acted on her peculiar cravings. What if she had simply remained faithful to her vows, instead of seeking out the mean girls? Maybe she would still be an equal partner to a loving husband, instead of the wretched slave to the couple who now slept soundly in her own marital bed. 

The slave looked again at the wedding picture and then over at Rebecca and her lover. For a few moments, she allowed herself to believe the fiction that she could still get her old life back. All she had to do was shut out the mean girls and reconnect with her husband. He would probably welcome her back with open arms. At the end of the day, he was a decent guy. None of this was his fault. 

Then the slave thought again about the events of the previous evening and smiled in the brightening morning gloom. 

Who was she kidding? She loved what her life had become. She didn't want a quiet, normal, conventional marriage. She had been there and done that, fucking her vanilla husband in the missionary position once a week and squeaking out her clandestine orgasms with her vibrator in the dark. No, she liked the twisted union her marriage had become. 

Not only that, the slave knew she was no longer worthy of her husband. She could never satisfy him now. The mean girls had seen to that. They had ruined her for her him forever. She wasn't a real wife anymore. She was a pet, a human appliance to be used for their amusement. As usual, the open acknowledgement of her own inadequacy as a wife, made the slave's belly flutter with arousal. 

No, she knew now what she was and what she would forever be. There was even a word for the singularly pathetic creature she had become. She had seen it on the Internet last week. It was comforting to discover that she was not alone. There were other women out there who willingly cultivated the debasement of their own marriages to fuel the insatiable obsession that now ruled her life. 

Dr. Reynolds shuddered with arousal at the thought, then looked at the clock. It was time. 

The slave rose up slowly from her knees, unlimbering the leather-looped handle of the leash from the bedpost as she stood. She climbed carefully up on to the bed, her rings and bells clinking and chiming musically as she went. She felt the heavy lock between her legs pulling against the duvet cover as she slinked and shimmied herself into position. She gathered up her leash in her left hand, then pulled back the covers gently, crawling in between the man's legs. 

The slave leaned in and began the familiar ritual of awakening Miss Rebecca's lover with her mouth. She opened wide and took in the large mushroom shaped head, licking the underside the way the man liked. She tasted the familiar, tangy flavor of her mistress on the velvety skin. 

Beside her, the sleeping young woman stirred. The slave would attend to her next, awakening her with her tongue as usual, then the couple would make love slowly and tenderly. If the slave was lucky, she would be allowed to watch, but more likely, she would be ordered to kneel in the corner facing the wall. When they were done, the slave would lick them both clean, gobbling up their leavings and drippings as she always did. 

But for now, the slave focused solely on the man. She began to suck his cock in earnest. 

It was time to wake her husband.



Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 03



BEWARE. This story contains elements of consensual sexual degradation and humiliation. The theme of body modification continues to be explored. Like all my stories, this one is extreme, improbable and completely over the top. If this is not your thing, please go read something else. In this installment we learn how the wife became a cuckquean and a slave. As usual, feedback is always appreciated, but snarky comments from anonymous haters will be promptly deleted.

*****

The slave lay between her husband's legs on the bed, sucking his cock lovingly. She deep-throated his eight inch shaft easily, effortlessly gliding herself up and down on the smooth column of flesh. After only a few excursions she felt his girth begin to swell noticeably in her throat. 

The bells affixed to the slave's nipple rings tinkled musically as she bobbed her head up and down and found her rhythm. He continued to grow in her mouth. 

The slave looked up at Thomas's face as she sucked. After about a minute, his eyelids fluttered, then opened. He smiled down at his wife. 

"Good morning, sweetie," he said softly. "Did you sleep well?"

The slave spit out her husband's cock. "Yes, sir. Quite well," she said brightly. "How about you, sir?" she asked, then opened wide and engulfed him again. 

"Fine. I slept fine," Thomas responded lazily. 

Thomas patted the top of the slave's head gently, enjoying the familiar feel of the his wife's well trained mouth and throat on his hardening cock. She was truly a savant now when it came to oral sex. She had been trained well by her mean girls. 

Thomas's lips curled into a thin smile as he thought about how their marriage had changed over the past two years. 

On his wife's fortieth birthday, she had asked for a very unusual present. Over Chardonnay and sea bass at their favorite restaurant, Dr. Victoria Reynolds confessed to her husband that she had been secretly fantasizing about watching him with another woman for over ten years. Moreover, his wife had also stated categorically that she wanted to be the one who procured the woman for him.

And she already had a specific girl in mind. 

Thomas sighed as he remembered his first "date" with Kimberley. It had definitely not gone as Victoria had planned. 

Kimberley was an Asian pharmacy student at the hospital. She was a petit twenty-four year-old with long lustrous black hair, full lips and huge almond eyes. Victoria had overheard some of residents talking about Kimberley's active night life. Apparently, she was able to live a lifestyle far beyond her means by dating well-to-do married men. It wasn't prostitution, not exactly. She never took money, only gifts. She called the men she dated her sugar daddies. 

Victoria had struck up a conversation with Kimberley in the cafeteria, then went out with her for drinks that evening. After a few cosmopolitans, Victoria had begun to steer the conversation in a decidedly more bawdy direction, asking about fantasies and various kinky practices she had heard the young people were up to these days. 

Eventually, Victoria got around to confessing her own fantasy of watching her husband with another woman. Kimberley had been intrigued. After seeing some pictures of Thomas on Victoria's iPhone, she had assented. 

"Sure, I'll let him fuck me in front of you," Kimberly had said breezily. "You're nice and he seems cute. And to be honest, I'm kind of turned on by the idea," she had added, squeezing Victoria's knee under the table. 

They had made arrangements for Kimberley to come to their home the following Saturday evening. Both of her kids were staying with their grandparents, so they would have the house to themselves. 

Victoria had spent the whole day Saturday preparing for Kimberley's visit. She cleaned the house spotless, then spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen preparing a meal for the three of them. 

At first things had gone entirely as she had planned. The three of them had drinks, then sat down to a leisurely dinner. The conversation was had been somewhat stilted at times, but that was to be expected. 

Then things began to get a little wobbly. A dynamic quickly evolved where Victoria found herself actively waiting on her husband and Kimberley. After all, the young woman was doing her a favor and she was a guest in her home. 

Kimberley seemed to enjoy the attention, becoming more and more forward. By the end of dinner, the young student was snapping her fingers at the middle-aged wife when her wine glass needed refilling. Victoria had fallen easily into her servile role and found herself becoming more and more obsequious as Kimberley asserted her authority with evermore alacrity. 

Thomas was having a great time. He was getting pleasantly tipsy and still couldn't get over the idea that he was about to fuck a twenty-something pussy for the first time in over twenty years. He loved his wife, but if she wanted him to have sex with a pretty young gal in front of her, why should he object?

It wasn't until the trio were actually upstairs in the bedroom that Victoria and Thomas had discovered something about Kimberly that they had not heretofore apprehended. 

Kimberley had a mean streak a mile wide. 

This started to become apparent as soon as they had walked through the bedroom door. Kimberly stepped to the middle of the room and snapped her fingers. 

"Strip," she said casually to Victoria. 

Victoria hesitated. This had not been part of the script. She was expecting to be fully clothed as she watched her husband make love to Kimberly. She had no plans to participate. That just wasn't her fantasy. 

"I said strip, you old cow," barked Kimberley. "If you're offering me your husband, you'll God damn well do as I say. Understood?"

Victoria had stood staring at Kimberley for a long moment, then looked over at her husband who was watching their exchange with keen interest. The older woman hesitated for several beats, then nodded her head slowly, as if making up her mind. 

"Yes. Of course, Kimberley. I understand. Sorry," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. 

Victoria began to fumble with the buttons of her blouse. In a minute, the middle-aged woman was naked. She tried to cover her breasts and vagina with her hands. 

Thomas sat on the edge of the bed and looked on, bemused. This was starting to get interesting. 

"Don't cover yourself in my presence," said Kimberley sternly. "Hands behind your back."

The young Asian woman began to circle Victoria appraisingly. She poked and prodded the older woman's breasts and ass proprietarily. 

"I can see why you brought me over for your husband. Wifey-poo is getting a little saggy isn't she?" 

"Yes, Kimberley," replied Victoria, her face crimson. "I suppose so," she added bleakly. 

Kimberley stood in front of Victoria and reached down, grabbing the older woman roughly by her public hair. Victoria winced, but did not pull away. 

"And look at that disgusting bush. I want that shaved before my next visit," said Kimberley flatly. 

Victoria and her husband exchanged glances. Next visit? As far as they were concerned, this was a one-time dalliance. 

Kimberley appeared not to notice their discomfiture. 

"Oh well, let's get to it shall we?" said Kimberley firmly. "Please undress me, Victoria. Show your husband what he's getting tonight."

Kimberley stood stock still as Victoria undid the buttons of her blouse, then her bra. Thomas began to salivate at the sight of the ripe, young breasts being revealed before him. He couldn't quite believe what was happening. Next, the older woman knelt and unsnapped the waistband of the younger woman's pleated skirt and drew it down her slender hips. Kimberly stepped out of the garment deftly and was left standing in the middle of the room wearing only a purple thong and high heels. 

"Now the panties, slut," ordered Kimberley sternly.

Wordlessly, Victoria got down on her knees and rolled the panties down Kimberley's shapely legs, revealing a completely shaved vulva. Victoria remained on her knees, staring, transfixed, at the youthful pussy less than two feet from her face. The lips were already glistening and thick with arousal. 

Kimberley stood naked with her hands on her hips, looking down at Victoria with a thin, knowing smile. After a moment, she turned and walked slowly toward the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room. She sat down, extending her feet straight out in front of her. 

"Now the shoes, please, Victoria" she said evenly. 

Victoria began to rise to walk over. 

"No, no, Victoria. Crawl to me please," said Kimberley sternly. 

Victoria crawled to the feet of the younger woman and gently pulled off both patent leather pumps, one after the other, then remained on her knees. 

Kimberley extended her left leg, raising her foot up to the level of the doctor's face. 

"Kiss it, whore," said Kimberley brusquely. 

Victoria had hesitated for only a moment. She looked over her shoulder at her husband, then back at the proffered foot. She leaned forward and kissed it lightly. Kimberley raised her other foot and Victoria kissed that one, too. 

At last, Kimberley leaned back in the chair and did something that changed Victoria's life forever. 

She spread her legs. 

"Eat me," she ordered curtly. 

Victoria looked up at the younger woman's face with a pained expression. She wasn't gay, not even bi. She had never been with another woman in her life.

Kimberley immediately picked up on Victoria's reluctance and smiled predatorily. She closed her legs and leaned forward, patting the doctor's head gently. 

"Oh, poor, innocent Dr. Reynolds. Don't you get it yet? You're part of the package, my dear," she said soothingly. "You surrendered all power in this relationship when you offered me your husband. I get to use you as I please or we forget the whole thing," she added casually. 

Kimberley leaned back and spread her legs again, even wider than before. 

"Now get your face in my pussy and make me nice and wet for hubby, slut. Then maybe I'll let you watch him fuck me in your bed," said Kimberley huskily. 

Victoria had remained on her knees, staring up into the eyes of the much younger woman. She was on the verge of standing up to tell Kimberley to leave when she realized something that shifted the very foundation of her being and left her completely unmoored. 

She had never been more aroused in her life. 

Slowly, never losing eye contact with her young mistress, for that's what she clearly was now, Dr. Victoria Reynolds had leaned forward on her knees and tasted pussy for the first time in her life. 

Victoria had learned all about eating pussy that night. She also learned about fluffing, the act of sucking her husband hard for another woman. And about cleaning them up, afterward. 

No, Victoria Reynolds would not be a detached observer, watching from afar as her husband and his lovers acted out her peculiar, bizarre fantasy. She would be an active participant in her own debasement. 

That had been two years ago. Kimberley had played with the couple for about two months, before graduating and moving out of town to take a job in another city. She had been an eager lover for Thomas and a harsh mistress for Victoria. The more Kimberley abused and humiliated her, the more the older woman adored her. It was during these first early months of their new lifestyle that Victoria accepted the fact that submitting to her husband's lovers amplified the intensity of their new dynamic significantly. For the first time in her life, Victoria Reynolds discovered who she truly was. 

She was a slave now. 

There followed a succession of young, mean girls, not many, but a steady stream. They were always careful about who they selected and absolutely discrete. In public, Victoria and Thomas were husband and wife, a typical successful suburban power couple, but behind closed doors, Victoria was a slave to her husband and his current girlfriend. 

Each mean girl had embraced her role of mistress to varying degrees, but nobody had matched the unbridled, black-hearted cruelty of Thomas's current girlfriend, Rebecca. She was the twenty-seven year old surgery resident who currently slept soundly in Victoria's bed, next to her husband. 

Thomas looked down at his wife as she fluffed his cock. As usual, she was doing a good job. Maybe too good. The slave moaned softly as she tasted a faint trace of her husband's pre-cum. 

Thomas abruptly pushed her head away. 

"Wake Miss Rebecca, please," he said gruffly. 

Victoria reluctantly expelled her husband's cock from her mouth, then rose up on her knees and pulled back the covers. She crawled into position between Rebecca's legs. The lock between her legs swayed and her body jewelry chimed softly as she shoved her ass in the air and lowered her face to the familiar pussy. She breathed deeply, inhaling the younger woman's scent. 

The slave licked in long, languid stokes, guiding the tip of her practiced tongue between the dainty lips. She was rewarded with a single trickle of her husband's semen from the previous night that leaked on to the surface of her tongue. Victoria quickly lapped it up, then stiffened her tongue and probed more deeply, expertly fucking her mistress's pussy for several minutes. 

At last, there came a groan from Rebecca. 

"Oh, yes, my pet. Good morning to you too, dear," purred Rebecca, spreading her legs wider while stretching over her arms over her head, like a kitten waking up from a long winter's nap. 

The slave continue to service the pussy before her for a few more minutes, until Rebecca pushed her away. 

"On your back. I want to ride you," she said flatly. 

The slave quickly pivoted on her knees and lay down on her back, her head toward the foot of the bed. Rebecca rose up on her haunches and twirled, squatting neatly on the older woman's face in one practiced motion. She sat upright and wiggled herself slightly for a few seconds, before settling herself on her perch. 

Thomas watched from his side of the bed, stroking his cock. He loved watching Rebecca take charge of his wife when she was of a mood. 

The slave extended her tongue, snaking it deeply into Rebecca's vagina. She was rewarded with another dollop of her husband's residual semen. She drank it down greedily. 

"That's it. Deeper. Let me feel that slutty tongue of yours," hissed Rebecca. 

Rebecca reached down and idly played with the large brass lock holding the slave's pussy lips close together. Rebecca always kept the slave locked up during her visits. The six labial rings danced as they glided along the curved hasp, three on each side. She pulled the lock upward firmly, watching the inner labia stretch a full six inches. The slave grunted into the pussy above her, but her tongue never slackened. 

At last Rebecca let go of the lock. It twirled lazily as it bounced on the mattress between the slave's legs, gathering the inner labia into a coil of twisted tissue at least four inches long. 

Rebecca smiled thinly to herself as she admired the new fleshy appendage she had wrought. The stretching exercises were clearly beginning to pay off. It amused the young mistress to recall that Victoria had once had a normal appearing vagina. That was before Rebecca had decided to change it with the rings and the weights and the lock. Rebecca owned this pussy now. It was closed for business. Permanently. 

Rebecca ran the fingers of her right hand over the tattoo on the slave's shaved vulva. She decided on the spot to order the slave to have the hair permanently removed with a laser this week. 

"Go to the laser center this week and have your pubic hair permanently removed. I don't want you trying to cover up my mark after I'm gone," she said casually. 

"Yes, Miss Rebecca. As you wish," came the muffled reply. 

Rebecca began to lightly smack the bare vulva of her slave. She looked over at Thomas and winked. 

"And what was that word you found on the Internet? The one that describes a wife who finds other women for her husband to fuck?"she asked playfully. 

The slave disengaged her tongue from the vault of Rebecca's vagina. When she spoke her voice was muffled. 

"Cuckquean, Miss Rebecca," she sputtered into the moist flesh pressing down on her face. 

"Yes, that's right, with the weird spelling," said Rebecca, warming to the topic now. "I'm thinking we'll add it to your tattoo, to complete your labeling. We'll go visit Fat Tony this week to have him write it on your cunt. That would pretty much sum up what you are, wouldn't it?" she asked, smacking the slave's pussy smartly.

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," replied the slave morosely. "As you wish, Miss rebecca."

Rebecca looked down at her slave's bare vulva, picturing how the new word would look inked below the current tattoo. She thought the second word would look good in lower case to emphasize the slave's utter worthlessness as a wife. 

O W N E D

cuckquean

"It's settled then," said Rebecca curtly. "Call Tony to set up a date and time and let me know."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave softly, then continued licking the cunt above her. 

Rebecca looked over at Thomas. 

"Ready, darling?" she asked coquettishly. "I think from behind this morning, if you don't mind. Give the slut a nice view for a change."

Rebecca leaned forward and got up on all fours, straddling the slave's face. Thomas positioned himself behind the young mistress and waited. He knew the routine. 

"Put him in, Victoria," commanded Rebecca, smacking the slave's bare vulva. "Then lick his balls as he fucks me."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," murmured the slave as she reached up with her right hand and gently guided Thomas's erect penis into the ripening pussy above her face. Thomas quickly established an easy rhythm, thrusting in and out at a casual, unhurried pace. Victoria had seen her husband fuck Rebecca like this for over an hour at a time, her face just inches away from their intimate interface of cock and cunt. 

The slave craned her neck and began to lick her husband's scrotum as he fucked his girlfriend. She lapped gently at his balls for fifteen minutes as he thrust in and out or Rebecca's sopping pussy. Rebecca moaned and grunted as she came again and again around Thomas's thick shaft. The slave's face and chest soon became saturated with Rebecca's drippings. 

"Tongue his ass, slut," said Rebecca sharply as she began to slam herself back up against Thomas's cock. It was clear she was nearing her fourth orgasm. 

The slave dutifully extended her neck and tilted the angle of her face. She plunged her tongue into her husband's anus and began to rim him as she had been trained. 

As always, Thomas, quickened his pace when he felt his wife's tongue in his ass. This was his absolute favorite way to reach climax. He gripped Rebecca's hips with both hands and began to piston in and out of her with a new sense of urgency. After a few more grunts from Rebecca, she began to scream. 

"Ohhhh, fuuuuuck! I'm going to cum againnnn! Ahhhhhhgrrrrrrr!" she howled as the climax took her. 

This time Rebecca really did explode. She squirted copiously around Thomas's cock as wave after wave of contractions rippled through her cunt. The slave was drenched in the torrential downpour. 

As if on cue, Thomas began to grunt, then growled his own release. The slave felt her husband's anus open and close around her tongue, his sphincter contracting spasmodically as he emptied himself into Rebecca's clenching cunt. 

Then there was silence. 

The slave knew what to do next without being told. She gently withdrew her tongue from her husband's anus and scooted herself downward slightly until her face was positioned directly below Rebecca's pussy. Cum was already starting to leak out around Thomas's rapidly softening cock. 




Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 03



The slave lifted her face and opened her mouth wide as withdrew from Rebecca's sex. The first drops of semen splattered on to the slave's chin, but by the time, the first large rivulet of gooey cum rolled out of Rebecca's distended pussy, the slave had successfully re-aligned herself, directing the stream of fluid directly into her mouth. Wave after wave of semen cascaded down into Victoria's open mouth. She gulped it down greedily. 

Thomas paid no attention to the familiar post-coital ritual. He relaxed in bed, crossing his ankles, then clicked on the television, tuning it to the local news channel. 

Rebecca remained still on her hands and knees as her slave cleaned her. Thomas's seed rolled steadily out of the vault of her vagina in thick pearlescent strands for a full minute. Finally, the viscous tide began to ebb and then the flow of semen stopped completely. The slave immediately craned her neck, pressing her face against the wet folds of Rebecca's pussy and snaking her tongue into Rebecca's slit. She curled the tip expertly to scoop out the diminishing remnants of her husband's release. The slave's tongue danced and twirled in Rebecca's vagina with practiced fluidity. 

When Victoria was certain that she had consumed all of her husband's cum, she shifted slightly under Rebecca, then again lifted her face to her mistress's pussy. She flattened her tongue against the younger woman's sex and began to methodically clean her vulva, taint and anus, licking up the residue of Rebecca's multiple orgasms. After only a few minutes, the job was complete. 

"All done, Miss Rebecca," murmured the slave softly, then kissed the pussy above her reverently. 

"Good girl," said Rebecca airily, as she deftly climbed off her slave's face and sat down on her side of the bed, her back resting against the headboard. 

The slave rose up off her back, then slid off the foot of the bed and knelt on the floor. 

Rebecca leaned over and began to snuggle with Thomas on the bed. She looked down at the kneeling slave. 

"Go down and bring us some coffee please," said Rebecca mildly. "Then you can clean Thomas."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave softly, tinkling as she rose. She quickly scampered out the door and down the stairs. Thomas and Rebecca could clearly hear her nipple bells chiming and labial rings jingling as she moved about the house. 

Thomas looked over at Rebecca. 

"You really going to add that tattoo?" he asked mildly. 

"Sure, why not?" answered Rebecca, casually. "It's also time to up-size her rings. We're really getting up there now. The new ones will be a half an inch in diameter. I'll have her stretched a full six inches by Summer. Can't wait to see how she'll look in a bikini."

Thomas tilted his head to the side looked at the young surgeon for several beats. 

"You're a sick fuck, Rebecca," said Thomas flatly. 

"Don't worry, Thomas. She loves it. I promise," replied Rebecca, smiling. 

"If you say so," said Thomas distractedly, then went back to watching television. 

The slave reappeared a few minutes later with two cups of steaming coffee, black for the girl, cream and sugar for Thomas. Thomas handed Rebecca her cup, then took his own and leaned back against the headboard. The slave knelt on the floor at the side of the bed. 

"May I clean you, sir?" asked the slave brightly. 

"What? Oh, sure, honey," replied Thomas, absently spreading his legs as he sipped his coffee. 

His wife crawled up on the bed and nestled her face between his legs, being careful to keep her wrists crossed at the small of her back. In seconds, she was quietly suckling his softening cock, curling her tongue around and under the shaft to slurp up the residue of their love-making. 

Thomas idly patted his wife's head as he spoke to his young girlfriend. 

"So, it's off to the city for shopping this morning, then lunch. Then we'll have dinner in the city. Staying at your place tonight?"

"Sounds good," said Rebecca casually, then looked down at the slave. "What time is Marta coming over?" she asked blandly. 

"Ten-thirty, Miss Rebecca," murmured the slave around the cock in her mouth. 

"I want you to greet her naked and blindfolded on your knees in the foyer in full slave regalia, understood? That should be a good enough ice-breaker to get things moving."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," replied the slave morosely, then resumed sucking. 

"I'll write a letter for you to hold in your mouth explaining the situation and the parameters of your service. I'll also leave the key in the envelope, so she can unlock you when she's done using you," said the young mistress blithely. 

Thomas pushed the slave away. 

"That's enough, honey. Please go down and make us breakfast. We're going to hop in the shower."

"Yes, sir," said the slave, reluctantly releasing her husband's cock from her mouth with a plop, then slowly climbing down from the bed. 

"Come on, darling," said Thomas, standing and holding out his hand to Rebecca, who was still sitting with her back against the headboard. 

Rebecca reached up and took his hand, then gracefully alighted from the bed. Thomas gave the younger woman's nude rump a playful swat as she walked by. 

"Ouch!" laughed Rebecca, then ran into the bathroom. 

The slave watched the two lovers frolic with genuine satisfaction. She was so lucky to have found such a pretty and intelligent girl for her husband. She smiled to herself as she bounced down the stairs to make them breakfast, jingling musically as she ran. 

Thomas and Rebecca showered together, then got dressed and headed down to the kitchen. Victoria had prepared both of their breakfasts as ordered and was kneeling on a cushion in the corner of the room opposite the small table in the breakfast nook. Thomas and Rebecca took their accustomed seats. 

"Smells divine," crooned Rebecca as she dug in to her scrambled eggs and bacon. 

"Delish," agreed Thomas, as he slathered a perfectly toasted bagel with cream cheese. 

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Rebecca with mock consternation. 

She got up from the table and retrieved a cereal bowl from the cabinet, then filled it halfway win plain cornflakes and skim milk. She set the bowl down on the floor in front of the kneeling slave, patting her head. 

"There you go, darling," she said brightly. "Bon apetit!"

The slave went down on all fours and began to lap at the cereal directly from the bowl. Victoria ate quickly, knowing this was the only food Rebecca would permit her until lunch. Since entering their life six months ago, Rebecca had placed the slave on a strict regimen of diet and exercise. As a result, Victoria had lost over fifteen pounds and was now in the best shape of her life. 

When the cereal was all gone, the slave slurped up all the remaining milk, then licked the bowl clean before lifting her head and crawling over to the table where her husband and Rebecca sat. Her rings and bells jingled and chimed softly as she moved. She knelt with her wrists crossed at the small of her back, eying the couple expectantly, her chain leash dangling straight down from her collar between her large breasts. 

Thomas and Rebecca ignored the naked middle-aged woman kneeling beside them. They read the paper and chatted amiably as they ate. Now and then, one of them would hold out a scrap of food for the slave. Victoria gobbled up the crusts and bits of cooling egg greedily. 

"I think it's great we're going to have Marta in on our little secret," said Rebecca breezily to Thomas. "She seems like quite an interesting woman."

"That she is," replied Thomas evenly as he read the paper. "I just hope she keeps her mouth shut. I don't want the whole block to know my wife is the neighborhood freak."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be quite discrete," said Rebecca evenly. "She has secret kinks of her own that she wants to keep well hidden. In fact, I do believe one of them lives in her basement," she added cryptically. 

Thomas put down the paper. 

"What are you talking about?" asked Thomas quizzically. 

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed," replied Rebecca, cocking an eyebrow. 

"Noticed what? Come on, tell me already."

"Well, I've only met Marta a few times," said Rebecca conspiratorially. "But the signs are quite unmistakeable. Haven't you seen the way she treats her mousy little girlfriends? The way she carries herself? I should think it would be obvious."

"That what would be obvious?" asked Thomas, crinkling the paper in exasperation. 

"That she's a domme, of course," answered Rebecca evenly. "Probably a very experienced one."

Thomas eyed Rebecca thoughtfully for a few seconds, then tilted his head. 

"Really? Like some kind of lesbian dominatrix?" he asked incredulously. "You're sure?"

"Quite sure," said Rebecca smoothly. "In fact, I've seen the proof with my own eyes. Why else do you think I would have invited her to join our little party. Trust me, she's been in the life for years. I'm looking forward to learning a thing or two from her as she puts wifey through her paces."

Thomas looked down at the kneeling slave who had been closely watching the conversation unfold. Unlike her husband, she was quite aware of Marta's appetites. Rebecca had told her what she had seen in her basement. 

"Well, whatever. As long as she keeps her mouth shut, she can do what she wants with her," said Thomas dismissively, picking up the paper again. 

"As I said, I'm sure she'll be quite discrete as long as Victoria's tongue keeps her happy," replied Rebecca brusquely. 

Rebecca cocked her head to the side as if listening for a distant sound, then abruptly stood. She reached under her skirt with both hands, rolling her panties down her legs. She placed the skimpy garment on the table beside her cleared plate. 

"Speaking of which, I believe I feel a little leakage," said Rebecca cooly. 

She sat sat back down and turned the chair to the side, spreading her legs wide before looking down at the middle-aged wife. "And I'll take one more orgasm, please, Victoria."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," replied the slave softly, before crawling between the younger woman's legs. 

Thomas continued to read the paper as his wife slurped out his semen, then pleasured his girlfriend. It only took a few minutes for Rebecca to achieve release. As the slave cleaned her, he looked at his watch, debating whether he had time for a quick blow job of his own. His wife could make him cum in only five minutes with her mouth now. In the end, he decided against it and resumed reading his paper. 

After another minute, Rebecca pushed the slave away. 

"Go get me some stationary and an envelope. I want to write your little letter of introduction for Marta," said Rebecca airily. "Miss Marta to you, of course."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave, rising quickly. 

Victoria jogged noisily out of the room, returning a minute later with a sheaf of her best stationary and an envelope. She stepped over to the kitchen counter and retrieved a pen, then placed everything on the table before her mistress, before resuming her kneeling position on the floor. 

"Let's see," murmured Rebecca to herself as she picked up the pen. "What should we tell her about our little arrangement?"

She paused and looked over at Thomas, then down at the kneeling slave. 

"I think honesty is always the best policy, don't you?" she asked the older woman, then began to write. 

Victoria couldn't see what Rebecca was writing, but she had a pretty good idea of the content. Her heart sunk as she watched her mistress spill out all of her darkest secrets on to the paper in a neat cursive scroll. 

Rebecca hummed absently to herself as she wrote. When she was done, both sides of the expensive cream-colored paper were covered with her precise, feminine script. In a parting act of cruelty, Rebecca made Victoria read the entire letter out loud in front of Thomas before sealing it in the envelope. 

Then it was time for the couple to go shopping. 

"Have a good time with your new playmate, sweetie," chirped Rebecca over her shoulder as she sauntered out the front door, arm-in-arm with Thomas. 

Victoria felt hot tears form at the corners of her eyes as she stood with her back against the heavy front door. She listened to the sound of her mistress being driven away by her husband in his expensive SUV. 

She stood and cried silently to herself for several minutes, grieving the loss of yet another layer of normality. In a very short time, her next door neighbor, a woman she saw literally every day, would know everything about her twisted obsession. Once chimed, that bell could never be un-rung. 

After a few minutes, she pulled herself together and began to prepare for Marta's visit. 

Two hours later, the slave, freshly groomed and showered, was kneeling in her customary place in the foyer. She was naked, collared and leashed. A thick black leather blindfold covered her eyes. Her anus still twitched around the extra large plug Rebecca had ordered her to wear for the occasion. 

When she shifted her position, her body jewelry tinkled and the heavy lock swayed between her legs. She was drooling slightly around the edge of the envelope she held between her teeth. She waited in silence, her wrists crossed at the small of her back.  

The front door was unlocked. 

At precisely ten-thirty, there came a soft knock, followed by the sound of the door opening. For several seconds, there was silence, then a familiar voice spoke. 

"My, my, what have we here?" asked Marta archly. "Looks like you've been a naughty girl, Vicky." 

The slave could tell the older woman was smiling.



Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 04



This story contains elements of consensual sexual humiliation and degradation. The theme of body modification continues to be explored. In this chapter, the specter of corporal punishment also emerges. If this is not your cup of tea, please go read something else. If you enjoy the story, please consider leaving a comment or send me a note. I do so enjoy hearing from the readers.

*****

The blackness behind the blindfold was absolute. Victoria Reynolds knelt in her own private universe of darkness. She could hear Marta circling her slowly, sizing her up. She imagined how odd she must look to her old friend. She was naked, collared and leashed in her own foyer. A large silicone butt plug protruded from her anus. She felt the familiar tug of the heavy steel rings adorning her labia and nipples. The heavy brass lock swayed lazily between her legs. 

The slave felt eyes upon her and remained perfectly still. In a moment, she sensed movement in front of her, then felt a slight tug as the bell hanging from her left nipple ring was flicked lightly. It chimed musically before falling still. A moment later, a firm hand cupped her bare vulva appraisingly, jingling her labial rings and setting the lock in motion. It swayed like a pendulum back and forth between her legs in a neat arc. 

"Such a dirty girl," said Marta huskily. "That's a lot of hardware you're toting around there, Vicky."

Silence filled the room once again as Marta continued to circle the kneeling slave middle-aged slave slowly. Victoria heard light footfalls to her left, then was shocked to hear the heavy tread of boots off to her right. She felt a momentary flare of panic. Someone else was here!

"Oh, I see you've heard we have a guest," said Marta silkily. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought my date from last night over to share in the fun," said Marta casually, reaching down and removing the envelope from the slave's mouth. 

Victoria licked her lips. 

"No, of course I don't mind, Miss Marta," said Victoria eagerly. Remembering the contents of the letter, she plastered a smile on her face for good measure. The blindfold felt heavy across her eyelids. 

"I like that...Miss Marta," murmured the older woman, holding up the envelope. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think, hole?"

"Yes, mistress," replied a soft voice off to the left.

Victoria heard Marta snap her fingers once, then came the rustling sound of clothing being removed quickly. 

Marta walked up to Victoria, then reached down and cupped her chin with her left hand. 

"I brought along my latest slave. She's a straight girl from the university I'm turning. Young people nowadays are so adventurous. I named her hole because those are her best features, three warm, wet holes for me to use. Isn't that right, hole?"

"Yes, mistress," came the same quiet voice. 

Marta leaned down until her face was only inches from Victoria's. 

"She's currently serving as my ass-slave," she whispered. "Do you know what an ass-slave is, Vicky?"

"No, Miss Marta," replied the middle-aged slave, trembling slightly now. 

Although she had known Marta was into the lifestyle, Victoria was taken aback by the primal, authoritative presence of her old friend and the ease with which she had assumed total control. It had been less than a minute since she walked into the room, but already it was clear that Rebecca was a mere novice compared to this much more seasoned mistress. Unconsciously, the slave leaned back slightly. 

"An ass-slave is a new slave who's tongue is not yet clever enough for my pussy, so all she gets is ass," whispered Marta harshly into Victoria's left ear. "Tell me, Vicky. Is your tongue good enough for my pussy?"

"Yes...I mean I hope so, Miss Marta," croaked the kneeling slave. 

"We shall see," said Marta cooly, releasing the slave's chin and patting her head lightly. 

Victoria heard Marta take three heavy steps, then heard the cushion squeak as she took a seat in the overstuffed arm chair against the wall. There came the sound of paper tearing as the dominatrix opened the envelope. 

"It says I'm supposed to read it out loud," said Marta flatly. 

The kneeling slave said nothing. She braced herself for what was to come. 

"Dear Marta," began the older woman in a calm, assured voice.

"My name is Rebecca Morris and your neighbor, Dr. Victoria Reynolds, is my pet cunt. 

We have met several times, but you may not remember me. I am a second year surgery resident at University Medical Center. Approximately six months ago, I was approached by Victoria with an unusual proposal. 

You may be shocked to learn that your old friend is what is colloquially referred to as a cuckquean. If you are not familiar with the term, a cuckquean is a wife who gets off on the idea of her husband having sex with another woman. Not only that, she actually goes out and gets the women and brings them home for her husband. Victoria has been living this lifestyle for about two years. 

Dr. Reynolds asked me to participate in their arrangement and I assented, so for the past several months I have been having sex with her husband, Thomas on a regular basis. On these occasions, Victoria serves us both as our sex slave. She licks me to get me wet, then sucks her husband's cock until he is hard enough to fuck me. Sometimes, I let Victoria watch, but usually I have her kneel in the corner, facing the wall as we make love. When we are done, Victoria always eats her husband's semen out of my vagina, then licks his penis clean."

Marta paused in her reading and looked down at the blindfolded slave. 

"Is this true, Vicky? Of course I remember Rebecca. She's that cute young doctor you're always bringing around. Are you really her slave? She's sleeping with your husband?" she asked in open astonishment. 

"Yes, Miss Marta," said the slave glumly, feeling a flush creep down from her ears to the nape of her neck. 

Marta stared hard at her neighbor for several beats, then looked back down at the letter and continued to read. 

"Early on, Dr. Reynolds discovered she enjoyed being submissive to the women she procured for her husband. Over the years, she has blossomed into a quite capable slave. She has also developed a intense fetish for humiliation and degradation. Sometimes I wonder if she has any limits at all. No matter how badly I treat her, she always comes back for more. She is ever the obedient slave. 

To illustrate her servility, I direct your attention to her tattoo and body jewelry. I had her vagina marked and pierced about four months ago, the same time I had her nipples skewered. I have been applying progressively heavier rings and weights to her labia and nipples in order to stretch them and thereby make Victoria less sexually attractive to her husband. Victoria has done this of her own free will and even does stretching exercises by herself every day."

Marta paused again and looked over at the kneeling slave. 

"Crawl over here, Vicky and stand up. I want to have a closer look, please," said Marta briskly. 

The slave fell forward onto her hands, then crawled quickly toward the sound of Marta's voice. When she was close, she reached out blindly with both hands until she found Marta's heavy boots, then stood on shaky legs. She spread her legs as wide as possible and thrust out her pelvis, lacing her hands behind her head as she always did for inspection. 

Marta bent down and wordlessly examined the slave's crotch for a long minute, then reached out and gently tugged on the heavy lock, stretching the delicate inner labia taught. They extended a good six inches below the vertex of the slave's thighs. Victoria whimpered slightly, but held her position.

"Interesting," said Marta clinically. "What an imaginative, young mistress you have, Victoria," she added in obvious admiration. 

"Thank you, Miss Marta," grunted the slave. 

Marta released her tension on the lock, then tapped it gently, setting it swinging back and forth like a metronome. 

"Back on your knees, please, Victoria," she said curtly. 

The slave sunk back down on to her knees and remained still. 

Marta picked up the letter again and continued reading. 

"One of the central tenets of cuckqueanery, is that the female feels that her own vagina is incapable of providing enough pleasure for her husband. When I took over as her mistress, I capitalized on this weakness and took it one step farther. As you can see, Victoria's vagina, in addition to being floppy and stretched out, is also locked shut. Her vagina now belongs to me. It has not been fucked for well over four months and will likely never be penetrated again. If her husband is feeling randy and I'm not around, he fucks her ass or her mouth, but never her pussy. The lock is always in place when I am visiting. She is allowed to remove it only after I leave. 

I have tried my best to train Victoria to be a good sex slave. She is adept at servicing both men and women. She can deep-throat any cock without gagging and has learned recently to orgasm from receptive anal intercourse. I am bisexual and have spent several wonderful hours with Victoria's talented tongue buried in my pussy or ass. She has become quite an accomplished cunt-licker and I have shared her widely with my friends. 

Which brings us to the reason you are here, Marta. 

I have been watching you. You could even say I've been spying on you. Last time you had us over for dinner, I'm afraid I did a little snooping. I didn't mean to. It just happened. I was on my way to the bathroom when I thought I heard someone sobbing in your basement. The cellar door was ajar, so I crept quietly down the stairs. I saw your dungeon, Marta! 

Quite an impressive collection of whips and restraints you have there. Tell me, Marta, do you keep a person locked up in that little puppy crate down there in the corner? I certainly hope so. I was sure I heard someone breathing down there, but nobody responded when I called out. 

Anyway, it is clear you are quite an accomplished dominatrix and today I offer up my slave for you to use. All I ask in return is for you to mentor me. I would like to learn to be a better, harsher mistress to Victoria. I feel she simply needs more discipline than I can currently provide. Who better to teach me than you?

I am particularly interested in learning about the application of corporal punishment, which, I must admit, I have been remiss in administering to Victoria on a regular basis. Judging from my brief survey of the implements hanging on your dungeon wall, it is obvious that you are much better equipped to introduce Victoria to this, mostly unexplored, dimension of her submissiveness than myself. 

From now on, you may use Victoria as you wish at any time, providing I am not using her myself. Feel free to share her with your friends, both male and female. My only caveats are that her identity must be protected (she has a slave hood for this purpose), her vagina must never be penetrated and the gentlemen must use condoms when fucking her ass. 

So please, use Victoria today. She can eat pussy and ass like a real champ. If she performs well, you can reward her by letting her jingle her rings (she can tell you what that means). If she displeases you in any way, please do not hesitate to punish her. 

But either way, I want her whipped. 

Please be a dear and send her back to me with dozens of pretty love marks on her udders, pussy and ass. Try not to be concerned if she cries. She does that a lot. 

Above all, please don't be gentle. 

Best Regards and always keep your whip hand strong,

Rebecca Morris, MD.

p.s. Enclosed, please find the key to her lock. I would appreciate it if you would unlock her vagina when you are finished using her."

Marta picked up the discarded envelope and tilted it over the nearby end table. A small brass key slid out and tinkled on to the lacquered surface. She folded the letter neatly and tucked it back into the envelope, placing it also on the table. At last, Marta leaned forward and addressed the kneeling slave. 

"Is this really what you want, Vicky?" she asked not unkindly. "To be used like a whore? To be hurt by me?"

"Yes, Miss Marta," replied the slave softly. "I'm sorry Marta. I just can't help it," she choked. 

Marta stroked the slave's hair gently. 

"There, there, Victoria. No reason to apologize, dear. I understand completely. I know what you are. No need to fight it. Don't worry, darling. Marta has what you need."

Marta stroked the kneeling slave for a few minutes, soothing her and settling her down, then stood and clapped her hands together. 

"Okay, then," said Marta curtly, taking ahold of Victoria's leash and jerking it sharply. "Let's try out that tongue of yours. You can start with hole. If I see you have a modicum of skill, I'll let you taste my pussy. If not, it's going to be ass all day for you."

"Yes, Miss Marta," whispered Victoria. 

"But I warn you, Vicky, if your tongue fails me, there will be consequences. Understood?"

"Yes, Miss Marta," answered the slave softly. 

Marta snapped her fingers. 

"Get your ass in the chair, hole," she barked. 

Victoria heard the sound of movement, then felt her leash being pulled taught. 

"Spread those legs, slut," ordered Marta curtly. 

Victoria was pulled forward on her hands and knees, then felt a hand on the back of her head. Marta leaned down and whispered in her ear. 

"I haven't let her bathe since yesterday, so she may be a little pungent down there," she said, pushing Victoria's face into the younger slave's pussy. "Impress me if you want to taste me today," she hissed sharply. 

Victoria went to work. The pussy before her was cleanly shaven, but did indeed have a more intense musk than she was accustomed to. Marta looked on appraisingly and continued to hold Victoria's leash as the older slave devoured the young pussy before her. 

Within only a minute, Victoria felt the the texture of the younger slave's secretions begin to thin as the flow of her juices increased. Soon, all the lingering muskiness was replaced by the distinctive smell of her acute arousal. Victoria was well acquainted with the flavor and redoubled her efforts to finish the girl off. 

In less than three minutes, it was over. 

Victoria felt the younger slave begin to buck against her face, then heard her begin to grunt quietly in rhythm with the thrusts of her tongue. 

"Please may I cum, Mistress?" panted the young slave. 

As Victoria opened her mouth wide to receive the slave's offering, she thought there was something familiar about the inflection of the girl's voice. 

"Yes, hole. Cum for me now," replied Marta brusquely. 

"Aaahhhgggggrrrrr! Oh, God, I'm cumming!" screamed the young slave as she bounced herself against the older woman's face. 

At that moment, Marta reached down and removed Victoria's blindfold. 

Victoria's startled eyes widened in shock as she gazed upon the face of her babysitter, just as the young college girl exploded into her mouth.

Victoria's worked her jaws up and down, gulping down the younger slave's essence in deep draughts. It took a full minute for her orgasm to subside. When it was over, the girl sighed heavily, then slumped back in the chair, her head lolling. 

Victoria leaned back on her haunches and waited. 

"You know Lucinda, from down the street don't you Victoria?" asked Marta mischievously. 

"Yes, Miss Marta," replied the older slave, looking down at the floor. 

"Say hello, hole," said Marta. 

The younger slave straightened in the chair, then looked down at the older woman. 

"Hello, Dr. Reynolds," she said sheepishly. 

"Hello, Lucinda. Nice to see you again dear," replied Victoria. "How's school?" she asked absurdly, absently wiping some of the girl's pussy juice from her chin with the back of her left hand. 

"You used to babysit for Dr. Reynolds and her husband, didn't you, hole?" asked Marta matter-of-factly. "Before you went to college, right?"

"Yes, mistress," said Lucinda quietly. 

"Lucinda's parents are in Nantucket for the summer," explained Marta conversationally. "She was bored one day came over for tea a few weeks ago. One thing led to another and, well, you know how it is. Turns out she read Fifty Shades of Grey like everyone else and wanted to see what it was really like to be a slave. The young kids do love to experiment, God bless them."

Victoria looked up and regarded the younger slave more closely. Like her, Lucinda wore a thick black leather collar and nothing else. Victoria noticed that the younger slave's eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Her pert breasts were cross-crossed with angry red welts. More thick red stripes decorated her belly and bare vulva. Victoria leaned in and examined the pussy she had just serviced and swallowed hard. 

The entire vulva was pink and splotchy and striped with dozens of crimson welts. The tender flesh around her outer labia was swollen, purple and bruised. It was obvious that the slave's entire pussy had been expertly and methodically worked over. 

"I'm afraid hole was a bit naughty herself this morning, weren't you dear?" asked Marta. 

"Yes, mistress," whispered Lucinda, wincing slightly.

"She needed a little correction, didn't you sweetie," asked Marta soothingly. 

"Yes, mistress," answered Lucinda. 

"Tell Dr, Reynolds why your were punished, hole."

Lucinda looked down at the older slave, fresh tears leaking from her eyes. 

"I...couldn't make Mistress cum with my mouth," said the slave bleakly. "Not fast enough, anyway," she added disconsolately. 

"That's right, hole, but you were so close, dear," said Marta pleasantly. "Missed it by only ten seconds this time."

The younger slave said nothing. She began to sob quietly. Marta looked over at Victoria. 

"Each week, I give hole a chance to graduate from ass-slave to pussy-slave," she explained reasonably. "All she has to do is make me cum in less than five minutes using only her tongue. I'm afraid she's just not there yet, so it's still ass-only for her, at least until we try again next Saturday."

Marta reached down and patted the younger slave on the head affectionately. 

"I tell her not to be so hard on herself," continued Marta. "After all, the poor girl never even tasted pussy before I agreed to train her."

She paused again and smiled sadly down at the novice slave. 

"I don't like to punish her when she fails, but I have to. It's part of the training," said the older mistress reasonably. 

Marta reached down and pulled the younger slave up off the chair by her collar, then forced her roughly down on to her knees. She caressed the slaves left cheek tenderly with her right hand for several seconds, then reached back and slapped her across the face, hard. 

"Crawl over and kneel in the corner," she ordered. She kicked the slave in the rump with her big black boot as she crawled by. 

Marta looked down at Victoria. 

"Now it's your turn," she said stonily. 

Victoria remained kneeling in front of the chair as she watched Marta undress. The mistress sat and unlaced her black work boots, then pulled them off. Next came the socks, followed by the black jeans and t-shirt. She wore no bra. Finally she rolled down her sensible white cotton panties and balled them up in her hand. 

Nude and completely at ease, Marta walked over to where Lucinda was kneeling and pulled her panties over the slave's head, making sure the crotch was centered on the girl's nose and mouth. 

"Maybe if you smell the scent long enough to you'll learn how to lick it properly, you dumb cunt," she said caustically. 

The slave's shoulders hitched up and down spasmodically as she continued to weep beneath the damp cotton mask. When she was satisfied with the positioning of her soiled undergarments, Marta walked slowly across the room and stood over Victoria with her hands on her hips. 




Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 04



Victoria had never seen her neighbor naked before. She was truly a sight to behold. 

Marta was fifty-eight years old. She was five-foot six and weighed one-hundred and seventy-four pounds. She had a steel-gray crew cut and a square face, with sharp, angular features and a thin, cruel mouth. As usual, she wore no make-up. Her flesh was pale and marked with dozens of tattoos, most of them sexually explicit Her arms and legs were thickly muscled, but going to flab. Her breasts were large and pendulous, the over-sized nipples pointing directly down at the floor. She had a bit of a pooch, wide hips and a generous rump. Victoria was reminded of a sculpture she had seen in college of a Babylonian fertility goddess. 

Between her legs was a lush, unruly thatch of brownish-gray pubic hair that had never been within two feet of a razor. A thick line of hair snaked upward from her vulva to her navel. Victoria noticed that she did not shave her armpits or legs and was not surprised. 

Marta sat down regally in the overstuffed armchair and slowly spread her legs. She looked down at the kneeling slave before her. 

"Five minutes," she said brusquely and snapped her fingers. 

Victoria leaned forward on to her hands and crawled quickly between the twin pillars of Marta's thick alabaster thighs, pushing her face deep into the thick triangle of coarse hair. It took a second for her to navigate to Marta's slit amid the tangle of her pelt, but at last she found her mark. She snaked her tongue deep inside, opening the inner labia with deep, rhythmic thrusts. She breathed steadily through her nose, inhaling the deeply pungent musk of the older woman. 

The slave tongue-fucked Marta's slit for several more seconds, then licked up and down the slackening furrow for a full minute. She was rewarded with fresh gush of fluid, which she gulped down greedily. The inner labia were now soft and fat, distended with arousal. The flow of her secretions increased rapidly and soon the slave's entire face was slick with Marta's juices. Victoria began to gulp as she licked, savoring the flavor of the older woman's essence. She nibbled at each lip, sucking the tender flesh into her mouth as she slowly worked her way up to vertex of Marta's vagina and the pearl that awaited her there. 

Marta had a fat clit, almost as big as Victoria's thumb-knuckle. The slave used her tongue to unlimber the hood, then closed her lips around the nubbin of flesh and began to suck it like a little cock. She suckled the tissue for a full minute, feeling the clit swell even further in her mouth. Soon it began to throb. This was the signal Victoria had been waiting for. The slave spit out the fattened clit and began to flick it rhythmical with the tip of her tongue. She opened her eyes for the first time and looked up at Marta's face. 

Marta looked down implacably and locked eyes with her neighbor. The slave had a talented tongue, you had to give her that, but there was no way she was going to pass this particular trial. During these tests, it amused Marta to watch the eyes of her slaves looking up from her thick patch of pubic hair as their hungry mouths worked. She loved how the expressions changed from confidence to concern and finally to desperation as the clock ticked down and the realization of their impending failure dawned. 

"Two minutes to go," she said casually, glancing at her watch, then back down at the slave. 

Victoria's eyes widened. Where had the time gone? She continued to stare into Marta's eyes as she flicked desperately at the older woman's clit. Why wasn't she cumming? She began to alternate between sucking and licking, trying desperately to cajole the flesh past the physiologic tipping point, but nothing seemed to be happening. Her tongue was getting tired, the thrusts more sluggish. Then, the slave thought of the consequences of failure, the red welts etched across Lucinda's tender flesh had seemed so deep. She felt a fresh burst of energy and quickened her tongue. 

"One minute," said Marta firmly. 

Marta watched the light in Victoria's eyes change and smiled thinly to herself. The slave was in the desperation phase now. Her eyes, big as pie plates, were practically pleading for her to cum. The mistress had a bad moment when she saw a fat tear leak out of Victoria's left eye and drop in to her public hair. Marta had a thing for tears and pretty girls. At that moment, the raw, atavistic dread radiating from the Victoria's eyes almost pushed her over the edge. 

But she controlled herself. 

"Time's up," said Marta blandly, pushing Victoria's face away roughly.

Victoria sat back on her haunches and looked down at the floor, then looked up at Marta. She opened her mouth to speak. 

"Don't beg, Victoria," said Marta, almost gently. "Nobody passes the first time."

Victoria looked back down at the floor. She began to cry softly. 

Marta stood and walked over to Lucinda. She was all business now, a commander in charge. She pulled her panties, now wet with the girl's tears, off of the young slave's head. 

"Stand up, hole," she said sternly. 

The slave stood slowly. She had stopped crying, but her expression remained pained. 

"Don't bother getting dressed. Go back to the house through the backyard and tell the crone we're having company. Set another plate for lunch," she ordered. 

Marta looked down at Victoria. She was openly sobbing now. 

"And tell her to rig the hook for a whipping."