9 comments/  17324 views/  8 favorites

Pipit Ch. 01

By: Serafina1210



Author's note: This story picks up where "Slave Girl Emily" left off. When that series ended, Emily (scene name Famula) had chosen her college boyfriend Andrew as her new Master, and she herself had acquired a slave named Amanda (Mouche). Meanwhile, Emily's arch-rival Pipit had taken over Mouche's position as toilet slave to a wealthy couple, Karen and Daniel. Emily's former Masters, Frederick and Christopher, remained unattached.

Pipit wasn't a major character in "Slave Girl Emily," but even so she was far from likable - she was grasping, jealous, manipulative, and promiscuous. I left her as a toilet slave partly as a joke and partly out of spite. But I have a sneaking fondness for hard-to-like characters. I'm betting that Pipit can be made more human and sympathetic without changing the essentials of her character. First, however, she's going to have to hit bottom.

Note: Once we rescue Pipit from her current position as toilet slave, we'll be pretty much finished with excreta for the duration of this series. But in this first chapter we'll have to talk briefly about what a toilet slave does - though I promise not to make you watch too closely. Tags: Slave, Promiscuity, Straight sex, Spanking, Lesbian sex, Urolagnia, Coprophilia, Daddy Dom, Masturbation, Jealousy.

Chapter 1. Into the cold

"I can't, Mistress!" She crouched on the floor of the playroom in front of the big iron toilet, the one with the head-cage under the seat, and wailed.

Karen gave her an annoyed look.

Pipit had thought this duty would be easy when she came here and pushed out that bony little nitwit Mouche. After all, she'd been eating shit as long as she could remember. It was, you might say, a specialty of hers, and had been ever since she'd been a kid - not Pipit then, but Jennifer, a sweet girl with parents whose idea of discipline had been to force her to beg forgiveness on her knees for routine childish fuckups - backtalk, spilled milk, that kind of thing. She'd been good at that kind of shit-eating, she'd done it with conviction, even passion, and she'd gotten to like it.

And then, when her body had filled out and she'd begun to realize that she was beautiful, stunning really, so every heterosexual boy in her high school wanted her, and she could have her pick of them, she'd picked them all - or at least a good random sample. It wasn't the physical contact she craved so much as the feeling afterwards. By the time she was packing for college it was routine with her: she'd go with a boy to dinner, a movie, bowling, whatever, and afterwards she'd let him do what he wanted. But the real action was when she got home, knelt naked by the side of her bed, wept, fingers sliding in her sopping pussy, and whispered, "I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry, Mommy," over and over till she came.

She'd been a good high school student. She got into NYU off the waiting list, but she was far from the top of her class once she got there. New York was a distraction and the boys so beautiful. White, Black, Hispanic, and Asian boys, Jews, Italians from Catholic schools, Poles from Queens - she felt their shames and anxieties and added them to her own. Such emotional turmoil, so delicious! She learned about girls, too, from a lesbian on her hall. She especially loved the girls who were just discovering their sexuality and hadn't let go of the wish to be heterosexual - to believe themselves normal again. She fed on their panic. She could have been poster-girl for the hookup culture, but for the self-loathing.

She was content to bump along with a C average. If a D or failure threatened, a well timed visit to the professor's office could help pull her grade up, especially if he (or sometimes she) leaned forward with a certain solicitous look and a certain hesitation. She found it easy to read the signs and drive things forward. She never offered to trade sex for a grade; she just gave, went back to her room, and whispered her anguished apologies into her pillow. Her grade would soon improve.

In the last semester of her senior year, she ran into a different kind of professor. Christopher Fischer, American lit. She'd thought a literature course would be an easy way to finish up her degree - she was done with her psych major - but the novels were so long, she didn't have enough time. She went to his office and discovered, quite suddenly, that he was gorgeous - mid-forties, gray-haired, elegant, and with eyes that seemed to see right into her, understanding what she really was and somehow conveying that it was all right with him. Why hadn't she noticed it when he lectured?

She said, "Professor Fischer, I'm having trouble keeping up."

"You're not an English major. It's a lot of reading when you're not used to it."

"It's not just that," she said. "I've never taken a literature course, and I don't understand the way you want us to think. I'm used to just reading stories and enjoying them."

And he patiently, kindly, explained to her what the study of literature was about, why it was worth doing, and what kinds of things she should be alert for as she read. It would have been useful if she'd been at all interested in doing the work for his course.

When he'd given his talk, she stared at him and stirred a little in her seat.

He said, "You didn't come here for that, did you?"

"Professor, I - "

But she stopped when he rose to his feet, rounded his desk, and quietly closed his office door. Then he was standing in front of her, reaching down, seizing a fistful of her T shirt, and pulling her to her feet. His mouth was an inch from hers, but he didn't kiss her. His eyes were cold and intense: she couldn't look away. Her heart was pounding.

In a soft, low voice he said, "I'm going to give you what you came for, Jennifer. Say 'Red' if you change your mind and want to stop. Do you understand?"

She was shocked and scared, being handled this way, and this talk about saying "Red" confused her. She stared at him, unsure what to say.

He took her by the shoulders and held her. "Do you understand? Say 'Red' and I stop the scene."

She was still scared, but getting more excited by the second, and she understood what he was saying, even if she didn't quite get why he was saying it. She nodded.

With dextrous, practiced hands he undid her belt and jeans and pushed them down with her panties. He seized her shoulders again and spun her around - then with one hand in the middle of her back, he shoved her face down onto his desk, scattering the books and half-graded papers. It all took just a few seconds, and she was more turned on than she'd ever been in her life, pussy hot and wet, not just willing to be fucked, but needing it.

"Oh," she breathed, hearing the metallic clink of a belt buckle, a zipper, the crinkle of a condom packet.

And just like that, he was in her, thrusting hard, confident hands holding her hips. Her cheek slid on the papers; one elbow knocked a book to the floor.

"Oh!" she cried, and he put a hand over her mouth to quiet her and thrust harder, holding her by the back of her neck with his other hand, hurting her - no man or boy had ever treated her this way before - till he came, leaving her unsatisfied.

But he wasn't done. He put an arm around her, under her breasts, lifted her to him, back to front, and hissed in her ear, "Is that what you came for, Jennifer?"

No! She couldn't have wanted this - it was too rough, the emotion too intense for her to bear. She looked down, saw wet spots on a paper, neatly penned marginal comments blotted, and realized she'd been crying.

She thought about yelling "Red" and running away. But no, she had come to his office for a fuck. He'd sensed that in her, known it with absolute certainty. Now that she was starting to get over the shock of it, she realized that being fucked like that - controlled, roughed up if that's what it took - was so completely right that she didn't want to be fucked any other way, ever again. He'd known that about her, though she hadn't known it herself. But her need filled her with shame. "I'm sorry, Professor," she blurted.

"Why are you sorry?" whispered the professor, holding her body tight against him, one arm around her middle, the other under her chin, tilting her head so far back she could feel his breath on her ear. His cock was already stiffening again, pressing against her ass.

"I'm - "

She couldn't tell him what she was, couldn't bring herself to say it. She'd come to his office to fuck him for a grade, and she was a slut - just scum. He knew that and understood how she despised herself.

He said, "Never mind. It doesn't matter." He sat in the chair she'd been sitting in and pulled her down over his knee. He gave one side of her bottom a spank - sharp, but not too hard.

She yelped, and he said, "Cover your mouth. I'm going to give you five more spanks. Remember, say 'Red' and I'll stop."

Obediently she put one hand over her mouth, then the other. She held herself tight as he spanked her, alternating ass cheeks, each blow a little harder than the one before, till she was gasping into her hands, working hard not to scream. The spanking felt better than an apology: she was cleansed somehow, though still aroused and needy.

"Step out of your pants," he said (her jeans were still around her ankles), "and sit on my lap."

She did as he'd commanded, and his gentleness seemed miraculous after the violent fuck and the spanking. He wound his arms around her, and she felt small and safe wrapped up in him.

Then his fingers found her pussy, and he stroked her gently, making her squirm and sigh, then harder, and finally rough, fingers mauling her. She covered her mouth again so she'd remember not to cry out, and made a high, tense noise into her palm until he said, "Come quietly." Her body responded to his words instantly, and she came hard and long, a new kind of orgasm, violent but somehow full of healing, so for those few seconds, at least, she was free of the self-loathing that had become such a habit with her.

She wanted to give him some kind of thanks for that. She slid off his lap, onto her knees between his legs, and sucked his cock, now fully erect again. It felt good to do it, kiss the head, tongue the little slit where a drop of pre-cum leaked out, draw it all into her. Relaxed and patient, he let a hand rest on her head until finally he grasped the back of her neck and pulled her to him, thrust up into her, and came - not a lot since he'd come minutes before, but enough that it felt good to swallow it. She wanted to do everything for this man - she could do so little, but there was this at least.

"I'm not going to give you a good grade for sex," he said, and the shame rushed back into her. "But I'll help you get a good grade in this course. Come to my house at four o'clock Friday afternoon."

She belonged to an environmental activism group that met then. "I have - "

"Cancel whatever you have on," he said, and she didn't say anything more, but just accepted the slip of paper he'd jotted his address on.

After that she made regular visits to his house on Grove Street, where he tutored her in literary criticism, had her make dinner for the two of them, and took her to a basement room he called his dungeon, where he carefully explained to her the game he wanted them to play and asked for her consent. Sometimes she'd be his puppy or kitty, sometimes a naughty schoolgirl or juvenile delinquent. After the role play he'd fuck her, and if she'd been bad or slow to understand her lesson, she'd get a spanking, or maybe, bound to a table or a cross, a flogging. Then she'd spend the night with him - next to him if she'd been especially good, but usually on a little pallet at the foot of his bed. She ended up with a B in his course, but the most valuable knowledge she gained from him was that she couldn't live anywhere but in the strange world he inhabited, of Doms and subs, Masters and slaves, Daddies and sweet little girls who needed brutal fucks and frequent spankings. He'd known that about her the instant he'd seen her, long before she'd known it about herself.

After graduation she moved in with him. She gladly agreed to become his slave, and they worked out a contract detailing how she'd serve him and how he could rule her and use her body. He gave her the name Pipit because, he said, she was little and her voice was like birdsong.

Around this time, too, he started to invite friends over, and he'd watch while they fucked her. Afterwards he'd punish her. Sometimes he'd make her write "I'm sorry I'm such a slut" a hundred times, and with every repetition she'd get wetter and more needy until, after she'd finished her lines, she'd fall on her knees in front of him and beg him for a fuck. Sometimes he'd tie her to the table and edge her for an hour with fingers and vibrators till she was blubbering and pleading for an orgasm. Sometimes he'd tie her in a stress position and just leave her while he sat nearby and read a book, and when she was wailing for release he'd untie her, put her in a tiny cage, and make her masturbate there while he watched.

She soon realized that she craved sessions like these more than she'd ever craved anything before in her life. She needed the sex with strangers and near-strangers, needed the overwhelming humiliation of the punishment. She needed the aftercare, too, when he held her tenderly, gave her an orgasm if she hadn't had one already, and murmured in her ear that she was his sweet slut, his very own dirty girl, and he loved her more than all the world.

He was her protector and provider. She looked to him for everything - food, shelter, clothing, and the emotional and physical intensity that came from their sex, play, and punishments. Master ate well and fed her well, lived in a beautiful house, and gave her plenty of money to shop for fashionable clothing. He praised her beauty, petted her, and gave her little gifts. She was dizzyingly happy with him for a year and a half.

Then everything came crashing down around her ears, and it was all because of that tatted cunt Famula. It started at a New Year's Eve party given by a fabulously wealthy couple in a big playroom in this immense Park Avenue apartment. Famula wasn't better looking than Pipit - not by a long shot. She had this ridiculous dyed hair with a purple streak, idiotic emo makeup, and this gaudy rose tattoo over half her body. Her features weren't special either - cutesy-poo nose, body a shade too thick if you knew how to look, puffy nipples and labia that stuck out unevenly. Pipit, on the other hand, knew very well that her own features were perfect, her creamy skin without blemish, nipples and pink bits smooth and symmetrical, her light brown hair soft and stunning in a braid halfway down her back.

So why did Master go all schoolboy-with-a-crush the instant he caught sight of Famula? And when they'd bound the filthy skank to the table with that scrawny toilet slave Mouche, both stuffed full of vibrators, squirming and trying not to come, absolutely everybody, including Master, gathered to watch them, and Pipit just about died of envy.

On the other hand, Frederick, Famula's Master, was a hunk, lean and hard looking, with sparkling, amused blue eyes and a close-cropped beard. He seemed to have an eye for Pipit, who had good reason to believe that she could draw her Master's attention away from Famula by fucking him. So she touched him through his leather trousers and whispered in his ear that she knew her Master would give them permission to play, if he asked. He did ask, and they did play. Frederick tied her in the frame and flogged her gently, then ass-fucked her on the floor and finally came in her mouth. He was a little rough, but she liked it - he was gorgeous, and so commanding!

But her Master wasn't interested in watching her fuck. Instead, he stayed and watched the show in the middle of the room, where the slut Famula was eating out Mouche while the billionaire Daniel paddled her bottom. And later, after Pipit had attacked Famula in a frustrated rage, and they'd both found themselves cuffed, spread-eagled, and on display for the crowd as punishment, Master stood off to the side studying Famula and hardly glanced at Pipit.

It was all so unfair. Hadn't she given Master everything he could possibly want - everything she had and everything she was? And her reward was terror that he'd leave her for this cunt with dyed hair and vulgar tats.

So she wasn't sorry when Frederick called her the very next morning, took her to lunch, and fucked her in a hotel room that he'd taken in advance for that very purpose. Afterwards he cuddled her and confided his misgivings about Famula.

"She loves me as a Master, I'm sure," he said, "but sometimes I think she'd love any Master just as much."

"Some subs can't love," she said, "I mean truly love. Maybe she's one of those." She stroked his cock under the covers.

"And sometimes I feel I don't know her at all," he said. "She's a wonderful slave, she likes to play the way I play, and she seems devoted to me, but beyond that, she's hard to know."

"Some people are hollow," she said. "You can't really love them, because there's not enough inside for love to stick to."

She peeled back the sheet and nuzzled his cock, which stirred again for her. She sucked him, and when he was hard she climbed on top of him and rode him.

"Hit me," she said, and he slapped a breast.

"Master me," she said, and he threw her off him, flung her face down onto the bed, and fucked her from behind, bareback now, holding her braid taut while she moaned.

When he'd come inside her and rolled away, she licked the slime off his cock and said, "I love you, Frederick. I wish you were my Master." She could tell he believed her, and she was thrilled.

The very next day Master invited Frederick to come with his slave to dinner at the house on Grove Street, and Pipit and Frederick spent the time they stole together before the dinner planning out how they could get Pipit traded for Famula. And it worked. Pipit ended up with Frederick and Famula with Christopher - though Pipit was never sure whether the plan had actually been hers and Frederick's or Christopher's. In retrospect it was a little unsettling how cheerful her old Master had been at their parting.

In some ways Pipit's new Master was better than Christopher. He was at least ten years younger and much richer. As summer approached, they went to beaches, to San Francisco, and London. They went to fabulous restaurants, including a kink-friendly one where he humiliated her at their table. It was exciting to socialize with the upper end of the New York BDSM community.

But Master Frederick was rough - a sadist, really. His idea of play was to tie her up in a painful position, ass-fuck her dry except for her pussy's wetness on his cock, or give her a whipping that raised welts, the kind of thing that Master Christopher did only rarely, as punishment. He never made her bleed, but she worried constantly that he would, or that he'd even cause a wound that would leave a scar. She wondered how Famula could stand his violence - she must have been an incredible pain slut.

Master Frederick wasn't interested in lending her to friends, either, the way Master Christopher had done, so between the excessive pain, the anxiety about her skin, and missing the kink she loved most, she became more and more restless over the six months or so she was with him.

Then Master Frederick got a dinner invitation from Daniel and Karen, the wealthy couple who'd given the New Year's Eve party. It was exciting to be back in their huge, ornate apartment, where what had been a big playroom was now - it was hard to describe - maybe a ballroom-sized living room. And it was even more exciting when Karen, a stout woman with a grand manner, took an interest in her, petting her, feeding her tidbits from her plate, and even letting her sip from her own coffee cup.


Pipit Ch. 01



After dinner, as the Mistress and Masters were beginning to talk about play, Karen announced, "Whatever else we do tonight, I want this beautiful slave of yours to eat my cunt. You won't mind, will you, Frederick? Didn't you say she was poly?"

"Christopher said she liked him to lend her to his friends - would you call that poly? I haven't done it myself."

He glanced at Pipit, who wondered if he could see her mounting excitement. Not an hour later, she was bound spreadeagled to the table in their big playroom, Karen sitting on her face while Mouche stood against a wall, gloomily fingering herself as she looked on. Pipit was thrilled by Karen's big wet pussy, and she loved the attention from this grand and hugely wealthy lady even more.

So she didn't object when Karen led her to the bathroom, saying, "I know you'll forgive an old lady her kinks, dear," laid her on the floor, and pissed in her mouth. Pipit didn't love gulping down mouthful after acrid mouthful, but the experience did little to dampen her happiness. This was a kink she could live with, if the top was someone as wonderful as Karen, who gazed lovingly at her as she forced down the last of it, and murmured, "So beautiful."

Karen called her a couple of days later, while Master Frederick was at the office, and sent a driver around to bring her to lunch - it was so exciting to roll up Park Avenue in a big limousine! Mouche brought them their food and then Karen sent her away, fucked Pipit with a strap-on, pissed in her mouth again, and invited her to join the household on Park Avenue.

She also told Pipit about the other part of her toilet kink.

"You don't have to worry, dear," she said. "You just throw it right up, and we'll give you some medicine to make sure you don't get sick."

Pipit had never been grossed out by the body or its products. She'd swallowed hundreds of loads of cum in her time, and probably a quart of Karen's piss. She knew assholes, too: she'd rimmed dozens of men and not a few women. How difficult could this be?

She smiled at Karen and said, "No problem."

"Why don't you just consider yourself a part of the household as of right now," Karen said. "I'll fix things with Frederick, and we'll send a man around for your belongings tomorrow."

Pipit was glad to find that she was capable of meeting Mistress Karen's needs, though she knew she'd never love doing it. Mistress indulged her kink at irregular intervals once or twice a week, sometimes summoning Pipit to the playroom and sometimes Mouche. Pipit did what she had to do, pretended to be happy and grateful, and did her best to banish the scene from her memory afterwards.

Master Daniel proved to be genial and easily satisfied. He'd come around for a fuck every few days, and she was glad to oblige, though sex with him was not very satisfying emotionally. Occasionally Mistress would come and watch Master fuck her, but there was no punishment afterwards - and anyway, all their punishments were insipid compared to what she'd been used to. They didn't seem to understand shame. Nor were they in any hurry to share her with their friends, though Daniel said they'd get around to it sooner or later.

Mouche was an annoyance, but Pipit knew she'd been given a superior position in the household and used it to harass her rival, bossing her around, ridiculing her skinny, tatted, pierced body, and criticizing her work in front of Master and Mistress. Within a few days Mouche disappeared. Pipit didn't ask where she'd gone, or why.

In the quieter apartment that Mouche left behind, Pipit started to brood about Mistress's kink, which she now bore the entire burden of. As time went on, the slave found herself more and more preoccupied with vivid impressions of the nastiness of it: the beyond-vile smell and taste, the revolting pasty-wet texture, the terror of waiting, mouth open, as she stared at the end of the funnel that emptied into the head-cage, Mistress straining above. Before long she was in constant anxiety, wondering when Mistress would once again lead her to the playroom.

It finally happened one day, when Mistress had commanded her to put her head in the cage under the toilet seat, that Pipit felt horror rush up inside her, and all at once she knew she'd rather die than do it even one more time. She collapsed into a crouch, held her head in her hands, and wailed, "I can't, Mistress!"

Mistress's voice was stern. "You said you were all right with this."

"I thought I was, Mistress. But I . . . I just can't do it again. I'm so sorry! I just can't!"

"I liberated my other toilet slave because you seemed such a good one. We wrote it into your contract - and now you tell me this?"

"I can do piss, Mistress, as much as you like - "

"I require," said Karen haughtily, "a full-service toilet slave. It appears you are not what you claimed to be. You've broken our contract."

She didn't have to leave right away - they gave her twenty-four hours. Daniel came to her tiny slave room that night and said, "I'm very sorry this happened, Pipit. I really did enjoy sex with you. But you understand, it's Karen who needs a slave, not me."

He gave her a check for ten thousand dollars. Feeling foolishly grateful, she gave him a blowjob and swallowed his cum one last time.

The next day, instead of looking for an apartment or a job, she visited Christopher in his office at NYU. Wearing a loose-fitting belted dress, just slightly see-through, she waited patiently with a little group of students camped out in the hallway. A boy there stole glances but didn't talk to her. Too bad - the mood she was in, she probably would have gone back to his dormitory with him and fucked him there, if he'd let her stay the night.

When it was her turn to see the professor, she closed the door and stood in front of it, one hand on the knob behind her as if she thought she might have to flee. But Christopher gestured her into a chair and waited patiently while she spilled her story.

"I'm not surprised," he said. "It's a rare kink, coprophagia, and most people can't do it. The expression 'Your kink is not my kink' applies double with that one. Are you going to be all right?" He took a checkbook out of his jacket pocket. As they talked, he started to write out a check with painstaking care.

"They gave me five thousand," she said, eying his hand as he wrote out the check. "It'll keep me for a little while. I really need a Master, though. I need . . . certain things - emotionally. You were the best, Master Christopher."

"But I'm not the Master for you now," he said, pushing the check across his desk. She let it lie; picking it up would be admitting defeat.

"I was a good slave for you," she said. "You said I was beautiful, and I did everything you wanted. The things we did were good for me, too. I loved you. I do love you."

"I've learned," he said, "that it's possible for a soul to be more beautiful than I ever imagined. Your body is beautiful, Jennifer, but you need to work on your soul."

A wave of anger washed through her. "She's not coming back to you, you know," she said, "that skank with the tattoos."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," he said, standing. "She chose a naïve schoolboy; he can't satisfy her for long. I'm the only one who's ever appreciated her true beauty, and she knows it."

Pipit stood and picked up the check. She couldn't keep herself from glancing at it - it was made out for five hundred dollars. She slipped it into her purse and said, "Fuck you, Christopher."

"Good luck, Jennifer," he said.

She walked over to Mamoun's Falafel and sulked over her lunch. It wasn't fair. She had as good a soul as anybody, and her kinks and Christopher's had been a great match. So what if she was a slut? A slut was what he needed, and she was the best around.

She spent the afternoon drifting among the stores and then stopped in to a Just Salad, but couldn't eat much. Afterwards she found Frederick alone in his apartment. He stood in the doorway and stared at her coldly.

"I came to apologize," she said.

"Don't," he said. "They gave me fifty thousand for you, and it was a good bargain." Then he relented, stood back, and said, "You'd better come in."

He waved her to a sofa and sat across the room in a chair.

She said, "It was bad, what I did . . ."

"You know better, of course, than to ask if I'll take you back," he said.

"I loved you," she said. "I could love you again."

"There was never any love in you," he said. "I was an idiot to think there was."

"And I suppose you think that cunt Famula loved you?"

"I know she did," he said. "I think she still does, and someday she'll understand that."

"And come back to you?" Pipit laughed.

"I can see it's a mistake to talk to you about this kind of thing," he said. "You have no understanding at all of the more refined emotions."

"I was good to play with, though," she said.

"You were. You didn't like the pain, but you put up with it anyway. As a sadist, I found that appealing."

Pipit stood up and undid her belt. "Give me some pain tonight, Master," she said, pulling her dress over her head. "Make it worse than you ever have before. I'll hate it, I'll scream and cry, but I won't safeword. It'll be the best night of your life."

She kicked off her shoes and pushed down her panties. She sat down again and put her feet up on the cushions so her pussy fell open. She could see the lust in his eyes; she touched her clit and ran a finger down into her dampness to make him want her.

"You liked my pussy, Master: you can spank it and turn it pink. You loved my skin: you can cane me and raise welts."

He licked his lips. "You're beautiful," he said, "and I've paid a high price for your beauty, but I won't be suckered again."

Suddenly she felt obscene and whorish. She closed her legs.

"Give me some money, anyway," she said. "You got enough selling me."

"What did Daniel and Karen give you?" he asked.

"Ten thousand," she said, knowing she couldn't get away with a lie. "You know how far that'll go in this city."

"Have you been to see Christopher?"

"Yeah. He wouldn't have me either."

"What did he give you?"

"Two thousand," she said.

"I'll give you the fifty. I don't want to make a profit off you."

She almost thanked him, but thought better of it. He fucking owed it to her, and he probably didn't want to be thanked anyway. He disappeared down the hallway towards his study; she dressed, then sat on the sofa and waited for him. He was tucking away his phone as he came back. He handed her a check and a slip of paper on which he'd written "Mistress Ai" and an address.

Mistress Ai was well known to her, having several times fucked her while Christopher looked on, and she was one of the few women Pipit considered to be as beautiful as herself. Pipit respected and feared her.

"Mistress Ai is expecting you tomorrow morning at ten," said Frederick. "I've asked her to advise you, and she's agreed. Believe me, her advice will be far more valuable to you than that check."

"Okay," Pipit said. "Well, thanks."

He saw her to the door. "Good luck to you," he said. "Don't come back here."

It was almost ten. She walked over to Second Avenue and hailed a cab to take her to midtown, where she went into one of the big hotels and found a bar. She sat and ordered a glass of chardonnay. Before long a glossy young man approached her and said, "Are you with someone?"

She looked at him briefly and said, "I'm waiting for a friend."

Several more men approached her before she got one she liked, a man in his fifties, not unattractive, though a little soft. But she hadn't been studying the men so much as her own responses to them, and now she felt a little emotional tremor, part thrill and part fear - not strong, but enough. She let him sit and buy her a drink.

He was in town for a sales convention, something to do with medical devices. She didn't listen all that closely, and he didn't ask about her.

At length he said, "Are you, um . . ."

She said, "I'm not a prostitute. Just a girl that wouldn't mind getting laid."

She went with him to his room and watched him closely while she undressed. She liked the look of wonder on his face - sometimes being beautiful wasn't so bad. She went to him, loosened his tie, and undressed him, the way she thought a whore might do it. His cock was already hard as she slid his underwear off. She pushed him onto the bed, crawled on top of him facing his feet, and sat on his face. He squirmed under her as she stimulated herself on his lips and nose.

She leaned back, supported herself on her hands behind her, and scrubbed his face with her pussy and ass, listening to his sharp gasps, "Uh! Uh!" in the moments when she let him breathe, watching his erect cock strain towards the ceiling. When she sensed the tension building in his body, she climbed off him, knelt beside him, and looked into his eyes.

"Oh, God," he said, "you're - "

"I'm a bitch," she said, smiling. "I'll fucking walk all over you if you let me."

When he hesitated, she grabbed his balls and squeezed.

She made her voice soft and high and said, "But be my big stern Daddy and take what you want, and I'll be your sweet little girl."

Her throat got tight as she saw comprehension dawn in his face. She was taking a stupid risk, inviting this stranger to play Daddy, but some desperate need was driving her on and making her careless.

He sat up and stared at her. His eyes seemed darker now. He said, "What's your name?"

She'd dropped her purse on the nightstand. She reached for it now, fished inside, and brought out a condom packet, which she waggled in front of him.

"Call me Little Girl," she said, "and fuck me."

"Okay, Little Girl," he said. "You want to come to Daddy?" He reached for her, but she shied away.

"You can't be Daddy," she said. "Daddy doesn't ask. Daddy takes."

She opened her eyes wide and looked into his so he could see the fear in her. Need radiated from her belly all through her body. She wanted to touch her pussy but restrained herself.

"Okay," he said slowly, taking his time to think. Then he moved suddenly, up on his knees, and shoved her down on the bed with his left hand while he reached for her pussy with his right. Two fingers slid into her easily, she was so wet.

"Yes, Daddy!" she cried as he finger-fucked her using all the muscles of his arm and shoulder, shaking her whole body. "Oh, fuck me!"

Now he was rolling the way she wanted him to, letting his body think for him. He straddled her face, and she flung her arms around his legs as he pushed into her and started to thrust, fucking her mouth, which filled with thick saliva and overflowed. She listened to the liquid slopping of Daddy's cock in her throat and sensed his arousal building; and when she felt the explosion almost there she raised her knees and pushed off hard with her feet so she scooted between his legs, so far his cock was waving over her belly.

She still had the condom packet in a fist; she held it up and said, "Daddy's Wittle Girl need a fuck."

He took it from her and tore into it. He rolled the condom onto him and repositioned himself between her legs. Kneeling, he started to ease into her, but she said, "Daddy fuck Wittle Girl hard," and he slammed in the rest of the way.

She didn't have to coach him after that. He fucked her hard and deep, banging against her cervix, shaking her, till she cried out, pretending to come. Sensing he was close, she whined, "Daddy come in Wittle Girl's mouf," and he pulled out of her, straddled her head again, tore off the condom, and fucked her till his semen pumped over her tongue and filled her up. She swallowed it. You always swallow Daddy's cum.

She didn't want him to hold her; he didn't feel like Daddy anymore - he never had, really. But she let him do it and cuddled with him. They said little; they were strangers with nothing in common, not even sex.

When she sensed him getting restless, she said, "Can I sleep here tonight? I . . . I don't have a place . . . to stay." It felt horrible to say that. It made the reality of her situation crash in on her, and the horror of what she'd just done.

He hesitated. She could tell he wanted her to go. But she had no credit card, only a little cash, and three big checks which would do her no good till morning. She couldn't get a hotel room; she was homeless.

"Okay," he said. "No problem." She took a shower, then he did, and they went to bed. She listened till his breathing became deep and regular, then quietly got up, went into the bathroom, and closed the door. She got into the bathtub, sat, and leaned back. She didn't run any water.

She spread her legs wide and touched her clit with one finger. "Sorry," she whispered. She put two fingertips in her mouth and wet them with a little saliva; she massaged her clit with a circular motion. "Sorry . . . so sorry." She'd just fucked a man for a place to sleep - could she have sunk any lower? Arousal building, she could feel her clit swell under her fingers, sensation spreading out from there. She lifted her legs and let them rest on the sill of the tub. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she sobbed, tears running down her cheeks. She drew her left leg way up so she could reach her pussy with her left hand; she slid two fingers into her damp hole, wishing she had a dildo. It wasn't her fault - it wasn't fair - but still she was sorry, sorry, sorry. She rubbed faster and fucked herself harder, pleasure and shame becoming one. She thought she could still taste the man's cum, fatty and nasty. She put the fingers she'd been fucking herself with into her mouth to drive out his taste. She whimpered "Sorry" around her cunty fingers and rubbed her clit hard till she came, breasts heaving.

She slid down to the bottom of the tub and lay quietly. Christopher, Frederick, and Karen - they all hated her now, almost as much as she hated herself. It wasn't fair . . . She closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

She woke up early in the morning, shivering in the air conditioning. She went out into the bedroom and saw the man still sleeping. She dressed quickly. His pants lay puddled on the floor at the foot of the bed. On an impulse she picked them up and searched the pockets. There was a wallet in a back pocket with some money in it - maybe eight or ten twenties. She took the money and dropped the wallet and pants on the floor. She picked up her purse and looked to make sure the checks were still there, then let herself out.

A clock in the hotel lobby told her it was six thirty. She hurried out onto the street, found a Macdonald's, and ate half an Egg McMuffin. She lingered over her empty coffee cup for as long as she dared and then took the subway down to the Village. She wandered the streets until the banks opened at nine. She went to the one where she had a dormant account left from her college days and deposited the checks.

She walked to Washington Square and sat on a bench facing the fountain. She watched the people as a way to keep from thinking about herself and her problems. There were couples everywhere on this mild summer day - some talking animatedly, some holding hands, some walking side by side. She wondered what it would be like to be in a vanilla relationship, faithful to one boyfriend. She'd never had that experience - maybe she'd like it. She closed her eyes and constructed for herself the image of a man who'd love her devotedly and wouldn't want to lend her to friends, leash her like a dog, whip her, or shit in her mouth. All he'd want to do was fuck her. The image warmed her, but she wasn't aroused by it.

When she opened her eyes, there was Famula not twenty feet away, just passing the fountain, stupid rose vine sprouting out of the neck of a black T shirt. Seeing that cunt was all she fucking needed to make a bad day even worse. Famula was walking rapidly, trotting every few steps to keep up with a long-legged, slender young man with short brown hair and a lean, handsome face. This must be the storied Andrew, who'd won her in that auction Daniel and Karen had talked about so much. Slave Bitch Emily. Her body was turned a little towards him, her head tilted up so she could see him. He was looking straight ahead, face set, saying something through tense lips. She answered briefly, gesturing. They rounded the fountain so Pipit couldn't see their faces anymore. She smiled at their backs. They hadn't seen her, and she'd found out something about them.




Pipit Ch. 01



She got up from her bench and walked towards the arch. It was time for her appointment with Mistress Ai.



Pipit Ch. 02



Author's note: Here's Chapter 2 of "Pipit," the story of a submissive struggling to make her way in the world. Cast out and rebuffed by her former Masters, she's homeless, reduced to having sex with a random businessman so she can spend the night in his hotel room. She has, however, some assets: three big checks in her purse and an appointment with Mistress Ai, a wise Dominant. Just a few minutes before the appointment, she sees Emily (Famula), the person she blames for all her troubles, walking through Washington Square with her Master Andrew. Tags: Slave, Polyamory, Straight sex, Anal sex, Spanking, Cum eating, Rimming, Humiliation.

*****

Chapter 2. Washington Square

Walking through Washington Square with his slave Emily, Andrew didn't notice the pretty girl watching them intently from a nearby bench. He was too absorbed in a discussion - not quite an argument - that they'd been engaged in on and off since they'd gotten back together a little more than three weeks ago.

When he and Emily had been college kids, Andrew had thought of the Master/slave thing as a fun game. To be sure, he'd loved playing it. He'd had a few girlfriends before, but he'd never felt as aroused and alive as he had with Emily. He liked being in control, making decisions for her and seeing her pleasure when his decisions pleased her, as they always did. He loved commanding her and seeing the pleasure she took in obeying him. He loved controlling her body - pushing her onto the bed, pulling her hair - and seeing her joy when he did. He loved rewarding her and seeing the gratitude in her eyes. And, oh, he loved punishing her and hearing her moan with the pain that he was inflicting, seeing her tears and yet knowing for certain that she was aroused, ecstatic, transported. Sex with her after a punishment was beyond what he'd ever imagined sex could be, and their closeness during aftercare, when he held her in his arms, or rubbed her back, or gave her a bath, was beyond intimacy.

Yet he'd been troubled both by her love of pain and the pleasure he took in her pain; what he seemed to need in a relationship conflicted with the values he'd been brought up with. You weren't supposed to hurt a weaker person, someone who was at your mercy; love was supposed to be an exchange of affection between equals. He was sure he loved Emily; he couldn't imagine loving any woman more. Yet surely their love was flourishing in spite of, not because of, their perverse games. How much greater their love would be if they dropped the games and loved as other couples did! A little before graduation he'd insisted, in his bossy way, that the game had to end. She'd pushed back hard, and they'd parted.

It had taken him way too long, all the following summer, to come to his senses. By the time he'd figured out that his best chance for happiness lay with this sprightly, intelligent, and bizarrely assertive slave girl, she'd found another Master to serve, and he was out in the cold.

That year he saw other women, but either they didn't like him, or, if they did, sex with them was so dull he could scarcely maintain an erection, no matter how pretty they were. He wished he could spank them, tie them up, or whip them - but what had been erotic play with Emily would get him arrested if he tried it with them.

Then, more than a year after they'd split, he was rescued by a combination of luck and the stupidity of Emily's Master, who in a fit of temper threw her out. That Master almost instantly understood how big a mistake he'd made, but by then Mistress Ai had pointed out to Emily that three Masters desired her, and she was in a position to choose who would own and rule her.

She chose Andrew, who counted himself the most fortunate man in the world. But winning Emily didn't give him his old life back. Emily herself had changed. She had given herself a scene name, Famula (a word he'd taught her - Latin for female slave), and she looked different: she was black-haired, made-up, and extravagantly tattooed and pierced. That was fine - he thought her more beautiful than ever.

But her love was not exclusively his, as it had been. She had a slave of her own, a girl called Mouche by everyone but Emily, who called her Amanda. He knew little about her. She was a toilet slave - he preferred not to think too much about what that meant. She'd been dismissed not long before by a kinky billionaire couple and had declared herself Emily's slave. He often saw her gazing worshipfully at her new Mistress. He asked Emily about Amanda the day after she'd chosen him. They were staying with Mistress Ai, the powerful Dominant who had staged the auction at which Emily had made her choice. They decided they needed to have this talk as equals.

"I don't know why she loves me," Emily said. "She developed a thing for me the first time she saw me."

"And why do you love her?" Andrew asked.

"She needs me, she's sweet, and she's beautiful - don't you think she's beautiful?"

"I've been trying not to look at her." When you were in love you weren't supposed to ogle other women, especially naked ones.

"You can, though. I want you to look at her. I'm going to have her go naked around our place, when we get one, just as she does here. She doesn't like wearing clothing: it gives her a dignity she doesn't want. And then, she has a habit of masturbating wherever she happens to be when the impulse strikes her, and clothing gets in the way of that. After four years as a sex slave, she doesn't have a lot of inhibitions left."

He said, "She sounds kind of damaged. You don't think it's exploitative to have sex with a person like that?"

"She is damaged in some ways. That's why she can't live alone - she has a kink that could kill her. She's naïve about a lot of things, too - she hasn't been out in the world much. But she's not as simple as she seems. She really is a competent adult who has some issues and happens to be a thoroughgoing submissive. She craves a lot of sex, too, and it would be cruel to make her do without it. The world of BDSM has a lot of people with high sex drives - that includes you, in case you haven't noticed. You're going to have two sexually excitable women around, both naked most of the time, and you have to decide how you're going to cope."

"Do you want me to have sex with her?"

"I want you to look at her. Really look. Stare at her. She likes that, and she'll stare back at you. The three of us are going to live together. The two of you are going to have some kind of relationship, like it or not, and we need to figure out what it's going to be."

"If I find her attractive, won't that complicate our relationship?"

"Listen," Emily said. "When you knew me before, I'd discovered only a part of me. I can't say that I know everything about myself now, but I know I am bisexual, and polyamorous, and a switch. You know about those things, but you've got to be completely all right with them, or our relationship won't work."

"I'm okay with them if I understand them right - that being bi means you don't desire me less as a man, that being poly doesn't mean you love me less, and that being a switch doesn't mean you're less submissive to me."

"You understand them right," she said, rubbing his chest. "You wouldn't believe how much I love you, how I long to serve you, and how I love it when we make love. And it'll be all right with me if you find out you're polyamorous too, because I'll know that doesn't mean less of you for me."

Her hand slid down his body, and he felt himself stir.

"I'll look at her," he said.

"And be honest with yourself about what you feel when you do. When we know what you want, what she wants, and what I want, then we'll be ready to figure out how we're going to live."

"Okay," he said. "And now I'd like to have my slave back."

"Yes, Master," she said meekly.

It took him by surprise how quickly she turned back into a slave and how instantly his body responded to her submissiveness. He flipped her onto her back and went down on her. Her clit ring drove him nearly mad with lust.

The next morning he made himself study Amanda as she went about her chores - carrying laundry and cleaning the kitchen floor. She was small and thin, almost emaciated, with pale skin and dark, delicate features. She had black hair, a tattoo of a fly on one small, nearly flat breast, and on her right side a large tattoo of a sad-faced girl holding her heart in her hand. She had a little silver barbell in each nipple. Her pussy was shaved, and the inner labia protruded a little. He found the effect charming. 

He noticed Amanda staring at him that morning, too - looking up from her scrubbing or pausing in a doorway with an armload of towels. Whenever he caught her staring, his cock stirred and leaked a little.

He decided to take a shower before lunch. He kept the water cool, trying to cool his emotions and sensations. He needed to think rationally about his situation.

But when he stepped out of the shower, Amanda was there in the bathroom, standing perfectly still, back against a door that he was quite sure he'd closed and locked before turning on the water. Her dark stare seemed to take in all of him at once.

"Mouche wants to serve Master Andrew," she said. "Mistress says I can if you'll let me."

He found her stillness and steady gaze unnerving. Her face was beautiful, her lips sensuously curved. He couldn't help thinking about what passed through those lips, what he'd inferred about her kink. "I don't want a toilet slave," he said.

"I don't have to serve you that way," she said. "Can I dry you off?"

"Okay," he said.

With a grave manner she took a towel from a rack and massaged his hair. With another towel she gently patted him dry - face, shoulders, chest and stomach, back, buttocks, cock and balls, legs, feet. She worked efficiently and didn't linger over any part of him, even his cock, which he'd willed to stay down, though he now observed, in case he hadn't known it, that cocks don't pay any attention to the conscious mind. His bathrobe hung over a towel rack. She took it and helped him into it.

One bathroom door opened into the bedroom he shared with Emily. Amanda followed him into the room, closed the door, and said, "Mistress said I could serve Master Andrew sexually, if you'd let me."

So here was his moment of decision. Wanting a few more seconds for thought, he asked, "Are you sure this is what you want to do, and not what Mistress has told you to do?"

She stared at him, puzzled for a moment, as if she didn't quite get his drift. Then she said, "There's no difference between what Mistress says and what I want. She said I could let you take me. She said I was allowed to serve you and do what you wanted me to."

In what seemed an unconscious gesture, her hand strayed to her pussy. He wanted to fuck her, more than anything.

He opened his robe and said, "Very well, then. Serve me."

With a fluid, graceful motion, she crossed the space between them, went to her knees, and closed her lips around him. Her mouth was soft, wet, and tight: she closed her eyes and looked serene, as if not sucking his cock had been strenuous, but now she was at rest.

He wondered what Emily was doing just then and what she was thinking, knowing she'd sent Amanda to him and they were here together. Would she be aroused? Would she feel any anxiety at all, or jealousy? He didn't think so: he believed she'd have confidence in him.

Amanda was taking him deeper now, sucking harder and looking up at him to check his responses. He wondered about her responses, too. He took her head in both hands and pulled her towards him, forcing her lips down to the base of him. She took him all silently, still looking up. Her mouth overflowed, and thick drool roped to the floor, but the only sound in the room was his own rasping breath and the liquid noise of his cock thrusting into her.

He reached down, took her under the armpits, and lifted her to him. He studied her face: brown eyes regarding him, pupils dark and wide, dark red lips a little open, teeth white and even, tongue pink and wet, chin shiny with saliva, which he licked away. He touched her cheek: her skin was smooth and felt good under his fingertips. He took her in his arms and kissed her, dismissing from his mind any thought of what else she might have done with her mouth that day, and she pressed her body against his. He reached for her pussy. Her wetness was delightful to the touch, his fingers slid in easily, and he fucked her with his hand, delighting in the way her kiss became more fiery and ardent.

He broke away from her and pushed her backwards onto the bed: she hit with a little bounce and waited silently, watching him. He shrugged off his robe, pushed her legs apart, and went down on her. He pushed two fingers into her and tongued her clit roughly, knowing this much over-stimulation would be hard to take. She whined, writhed, and pushed against the bedclothes with her feet, trying to get away, but he held her firmly by the thighs. He closed his mouth over her and sucked her clit, and she fell silent except for her hard breathing.

He turned her over and set her on her knees, legs spread, head resting on her crossed arms. He stood behind her on the bed and looked at her small, pink anus, surrounded by the ghostly white skin of her crack. He'd only had anal sex once in his life, the night before with Emily, but he'd loved the tightness of an ass and the naughtiness of it, and now the sight of Amanda's filled him with lust. He massaged her anus, and she made a strange mewing sound into the bedclothes. It sounded like encouragement.

In the drawer with the other devices, there was a little bottle of lubricant and several condom packets. He lubricated her crack and anus - her mewing got louder - and stretched her first with one finger, then two.

Standing behind her, he put on a condom and pushed into her as she breathed hard and clutched at the bedsheets. Then she relaxed a little as he started to thrust, holding her hips. He loved the look of her thin white back, her black hair falling around her slender neck . . . wanting to see her face, he took a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. She was breathing hard through her mouth, eyes wide, absorbed in the sensations. She whined "Oh!" again, a drawn-out syllable that somehow expressed all her pain and pleasure, and the sound and sight of her made him come, gasping and thrusting.

He let go of her hair. She let her head fall and said, "Please, Master, may I have the condom?"

He pulled off the condom and handed it to her. He knelt and watched as she rolled onto her back, put the open end into her mouth, squeezed the cum out, and swallowed. She said, "May I masturbate, Master, please?"

"You may," he said, fascinated by her frankness. She made obscenity seem innocent.

She balled up the condom, put it in her mouth, and chewed as she rubbed her pussy, staring at him with steady eyes. By the time she brought herself off, after no more than two minutes, he was aroused again.

She took the condom out of her mouth and said, "You're hard, Master." She didn't ask permission, but crawled to him, took his cock in her hand, and sucked him. She didn't gaze into his eyes this time, but just worked patiently. He was patient too. It should have been anything but erotic, being sucked like this by a girl who, he now understood, desired only the few drops of cum his body could produce, but somehow her strange need, her determination, and her careful method excited him, and finally he came in her mouth with a groan.

She stayed still for a long time, holding his cock and his cum in her mouth. Then she sat up and swallowed.

She said, "Do you need to piss, Master?"

"No - no thank you," he said hastily.

"Oh," she said. "Sometimes men want to piss after sex. Well, I'll see if Mistress needs me." She got off the bed and silently left the room.

Feeling a little sneaky and ashamed, he slipped into the bathroom for a piss.

He dressed and went to find Emily, who was in the living room giving instructions to Amanda about the laundry.

He waited till she was done, and said, "Come with me." She followed him to the bedroom.

Inside the door, he turned on her and said, "Why did you send Amanda to me?"

Her eyes were wide. "I didn't send her, Master. She asked permission to serve you, and I said she could."

"We agreed that I'd look at her today and tell you what I thought. You didn't give me a chance to do that. Instead you sent her to seduce me."

"No, Master, I didn't! She saw you looking at her, and that made her want to serve you so badly she couldn't stand it! She fell on her knees and begged me. What was I to do? She must have gone to you on her own."

"You should have asked me before you let her approach me."

"I'm sorry, Master," she said, and met his gaze, tears gathering in her green eyes. Her tears always turned him on.

He sat on the bed and said, "Come here."

She stood in front of him, looking frightened.

"Take your pants down."

She was wearing black shorts. She pushed them down with her panties.

He took her hand and pulled her down over his knee. He gave her two little spanks, one on each side, then stroked her ass gently. She squirmed in his lap and sighed.

He gave her ten hard spanks, five on each side, till her ass was red and she was crying "Master!" Then he flung her onto the bed and said "Shirt off." He leaned over her and stroked her pussy hard, giving her too much stimulation and making her writhe and cry "No, Master, Please!"

"Punishment isn't punishment for you, is it?" he said, and gave her pussy a spank.

She jumped and squeaked, closed her legs reflexively and opened them again. He spanked her again and again till she was begging for relief.

Then he stopped, said "That's all," and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "Come here," he said. She crawled to him and he took her in his arms.

She buried her face in his armpit and said, "I'm sorry, Master. I'll try to do better." He held her tighter. He'd liked sex with Amanda, though he wasn't sure she'd liked it much. And he hadn't been angry with Emily, not really - though it was surely true that she should have consulted him before telling Amanda she could serve him. He suspected that she'd wanted a spanking all along, and he wanted to give her everything she desired.

They lay together for a long time, and then Emily turned to him and said, "Poor Master."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You must be very tired," she crooned, "and Mouche has sucked all the cum out of you. I don't dare try to tempt you into sex; you're not up to it."

"You're a wicked slave," he said, turning to her. "You're teasing and manipulating your Master. I'll have to punish you again. What shall I do with you?"

"Anything but a brutal fuck, Master," she whined.

He fucked her brutally, wondering all the while whether it was all right for him to enjoy her teasing and manipulation as much as he did.

A couple of days later, they started apartment-sitting on Perry Street for one of Mistress Ai's many friends. Three weeks after that, they were taking one of their frequent walks around the Village. Their route always took them through Washington Square. Andrew had spent much of the three weeks worrying about sex with Amanda, how much authority he had over her, what besides lust he felt for her, and how she would complicate his life with Emily.

"She'd be just as happy if I jerked off into a cup and handed it to her," Andrew said. "She doesn't want me; I can't please her."

"It pleases her to serve you," she said. "When you find out something she likes to do, like swallowing your cum, you can use that as a reward. Otherwise, you don't have to worry about pleasing her. Not me either, for that matter. When I'm with you, especially in bed, I lose track of my own desires, and I only want to know what you want. Amanda's that way with pretty much everybody. She wants to be a cum-bucket for you, a toilet for me, and a fuck-toy for both of us."




Pipit Ch. 02



"But I can tell you're getting off when we have sex," he said. "You sigh, you moan, you have an orgasm. She doesn't come with me: she masturbates afterwards."

"That doesn't mean she's not getting off," she said. "She is, believe me. It's just that having your cum in her mouth is the best part for her, so she wants to save her orgasm for then."

Andrew still didn't quite get it, and there was lots more to discuss, but just then an image came into his head of the two women hogtied, lying side by side on the bed. He decided to put aside his worries. He smiled and walked a little faster, setting a course for Perry Street.

* * *

At that precise moment, Pipit, relieved that she hadn't been spotted, was hurrying towards the arch, wanting to be on time for her appointment with Mistress Ai.

The man who opened Ai's door was young, fit, naked except for a collar, and entirely hairless. Pipit registered his good looks, but found him no more interesting than she usually found other slaves and submissives. He bowed, smiled, and showed her in.

Mistress Ai, a Japanese woman in her mid-twenties, was seated in the living room: she gestured towards a chair, and Pipit perched nervously on the edge of the cushioned seat.

"I know what happened to you," said Ai, "and why, so there's no need for us to discuss that. Instead, let's talk practically about your future."

"I need a Dominant, Mistress Ai. A Master or a Daddy, someone who understands my needs. If you could talk to Christopher . . ."

"I have talked to Christopher," Ai said. "You're quite right to identify him as the likeliest Master for you - your kinks were an excellent match for his. But he sees you as grasping and conniving - he's determined to have nothing more to do with you."

"Frederick hates me too."

"You and Frederick were never a good match, but that's not the issue. People talk, and the way you left your two Masters and the weeks you spent as Karen's toilet slave have given you a reputation which you'll find difficult to shed. If you were to attend munches and play parties, your looks would quickly attract a Dominant - or at least someone who claimed to be one. But you wouldn't be satisfied. The Dominants you'd attract at this point would be frauds at worst, and at best men who couldn't afford to keep you."

"I could be happy with a good Mistress," said Pipit.

Mistress Ai smiled. "It's too bad I have no need for an additional slave in my household. I am, however, in need of an employee."

Pipit knew that Mistress Ai was talking about her business, Mistress Shigemi's House of Kink. "I'm not a Domme, Mistress."

"What I need," Ai said, "is a professional submissive."

"I'm not a whore either, Mistress," Pipit said.

"That's good," said Ai, "because I don't sell sex or permit my employees to sell it. I have two submissives who specialize in impact play, but they're not happy when a client wants a puppy or pony. You, on the other hand, are excellent at role play. You'd make a more-than-adequate living."

Pipit liked the idea of submitting to strangers, but had worries.

"Mistress, is it safe?"

"There's constant supervision, and all clients are required to respect your limits and safewords. Before your first session with any client, you'll work out what kind of play you'll engage in, and any differences on subsequent visits will require negotiation. You can decline to see any clients who make you uncomfortable."

Pipit didn't want to be a professional submissive. She needed lots of sex and humiliation: she'd get the humiliation in the job Ai was offering her, but she had no idea where she'd get the sex. Still, if Mistress Ai was right about her reputation, she didn't have a lot of choices. "Okay, Mistress," she said, "I'll do it."

"Very good," said Mistress Ai. "I think it would be best for you to take another scene name for this employment. Let's call you Mebuta. Do you have a place to live?"

Pipit reddened, thinking about what she'd done for a place to sleep the night before. "No, Mistress."

I have an employee who's looking for a roommate. Are you interested?

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you."

Ai picked up a cell phone from an end table and tapped in a number. "Neko," she said, "I believe I have a roommate for you. Are you at home?"

She listened for a moment, then set the phone down.

"Neko lives on Thirteenth Street," she said. "She's a submissive, like you. I hope you get along; that's most likely if you pay your bills on time and divide up the household chores equally."

"Yes, Mistress," Pipit said.

"Do you still have things at Daniel and Karen's place?"

"Yes, Mistress. I didn't take much with me when I left."

"I'll get in touch with them and have your things brought to you. You can go over to Neko's apartment after lunch. Meanwhile you can stay here. Have a shower and some rest: Inkei will bring you a toothbrush and other toiletries, and some clean underwear." 

Inkei, the naked slave who had let Pipit into Ai's apartment, appeared and led her to a bathroom. He got a towel and toothbrush from a tall cabinet on one wall and laid them down next to the sink.

He said, "The bathrobe hanging on the back of the door is for guests: it's always clean. The other door leads to a bedroom. You'll find panties there after your shower, and you can rest there if you like. Just ask if you need anything else." He withdrew silently.

Pipit brushed her teeth first - the first time since the man had come in her mouth the night before. Then she spent a long time in the shower. She thought about Mistress Ai, remembering her slender, beautiful body and the colorful dragon tattoo that nearly covered her back and wound its sensuous way over her shoulder. It was beautiful, not vulgar like Famula's tattoos.

She'd had sex with Mistress Ai several times when she'd been with Christopher. The first time, when Master had taken them to his dungeon, Ai had sat on a wooden chair, wearing a simple white dress. She'd said nothing, but simply looked at Pipit, who was wearing only a collar and leash, feeling as if some invisible hand was forcing her to her knees to worship a goddess. She prostrated herself, crawled to Mistress Ai, and sat up in front of her like a dog begging for a pat. Ai continued to watch silently, doing nothing, until Pipit picked up the end of her leash and offered it. Ai reached for it, and a charge ran through Pipit as she took it in her hand.

Then Ai slowly reached down, removed her right shoe, lifted her dainty, naked foot, and put her big toe into Pipit's open mouth. Sucking Ai's toe, she felt as happy as she'd ever felt sucking Master's cock. That was a magical night: Mistress Ai had allowed Pipit to eat her pussy for ever so long and had fucked her vaginally and anally with a strap-on. She stayed for the punishment, too, which was the best ever. They laid her on her stomach, arms lashed to her sides, with an anal hook tied to her braided hair so she had to hold her head up to keep the hook from pulling her ass painfully. She wept and begged forgiveness for what seemed forever before they untied and forgave her. Then Mistress Ai held Pipit's head in her lap while Master fucked her and gave her one of the best orgasms of her life.

Thinking about that night and the other nights she'd had with Ai, Pipit longed to be her slave. It would be heaven to be owned by such a Mistress, fucked by her, punished by her!

She turned the shower off, dried herself, put on the bathrobe, and carried her dress to the bedroom, where she found some panties laid neatly on the bed. She put on the panties and lay down, but sleep wouldn't come - her memories of Mistress Ai had excited her too much.

The clock on the bedside table said 11:20. Pipit dressed and went out looking for Mistress Ai, but no one was in the living room or the kitchen. She followed the hallway beyond the bathroom where Inkei had left her and approached a half-open door. She put out her hand to push it open wider, but then saw Inkei near a wall, feet bound together, wrists above his head tied to a hook in the ceiling, so tightly that he had to stand on tiptoe. Mistress Ai was near him with her back to the door; she held a riding crop in one hand and Inkei's balls in the other. His cock was erect. Pipit had seen a lot of cocks in her time, but this was the biggest - an awesome thing.

Pipit held very still as Ai gave Inkei's cock an audible slap with the crop. He winced and said, "Thank you, Mistress." Then he gasped as Ai squeezed his balls, and said "Thank you, Mistress" again. Pipit watched as Ai tortured Inkei's cock and balls. She wished she were tied like that, with Mistress Ai spanking her pussy or edging her. She felt herself get damp. She lifted the hem of her dress, pulled her panties aside, and rubbed her clit.

Mistress Ai gave Inkei's balls a light blow with the crop, making him cry out. Tears started from his eyes, but he said, "Thank you, Mistress." Pipit rubbed herself harder as Ai began to jerk him off, spanking his balls with the crop. He was crying, tears flowing freely, until finally he came, cum - so much of it! - gushing from the head of his cock and landing some five feet away on the polished floor.

Watching Inkei's cum spurt, Pipit was overwhelmed with envy. Why should he be the one tied up with Mistress Ai making him come? Yes, he had a remarkable cock, but Pipit was remarkable too, and no less deserving than he was.

She took a step back from the door, but she must have made a little noise as she did, because Ai spun around and looked at her. She was caught with her hand still under her dress.

"We seem to have a voyeur, Inkei," said Ai, "or should I say voyeuse." Inkei turned his head and looked too.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," Pipit said. "I was looking for you, and . . ."

"And when you found me, you decided to masturbate in my doorway. Instead of Mebuta, let's call you Tosatsu, which means voyeur. Come here, Tosatsu."

Reluctant and hot with shame, Pipit edged into the room.

"Perhaps I could use a slave after all," said Mistress Ai, "a part-time slave, just while you're here in my home. Would you like to be my slave and submit to my discipline?"

"Yes, Mistress," said Pipit, hope surging inside her.

"I have a first task for you, Tosatsu," said Ai with a smile. "You see, Inkei made quite a mess here. He produces astonishing amounts of semen. Usually I make him clean up after himself, but I'd like you to do it instead - if, that is, you want to be my slave."

"Yes, Mistress," Pipit said, wondering where Ai kept her mops and sponges. She hesitated a few seconds, waiting for instructions.

"Well, get started, Tosatsu," said Ai with a hint of impatience in her voice.

"Mistress, where - "

"With your mouth, Tosatsu," said Ai. "Take off your clothes. My slaves don't wear clothes."

Pipit hesitated for just a second; she imagined the humiliation of what Mistress Ai was asking her to do and found it irresistible. She pulled off her dress and pushed down the borrowed panties, trembly and aroused. Inkei's cum had splattered over a wide area; she got onto her hands and knees at the edge of it and started to lick. The floor was spotless, like everything in Ai's apartment, but that didn't lessen her shame. She was getting wet again.

As Pipit licked, Ai was untying Inkei, saying, "Are you disappointed, Inkei, that I've given Tosatsu your job?"

"Mistress knows best," he said.

"You are disappointed, I can tell," she said. "We'll watch her clean up, and then I'll give you a treat when she's done."

The cleanup seemed to take forever. The little puddles of viscous cum - about fifteen of them, Inkei had come so copiously - were hard to clean up. Licking them just pushed them around: the best technique, Pipit discovered, was to lick them into round globs, suck them in, and swallow them. Then she could lick the floor until the slickness of cum gave way to the wetness of saliva.

Each puddle required perhaps a minute of painstaking sucking and licking before the floor was entirely clean. While she worked, Mistress Ai commented on her slowness, saying "You're much more efficient than this, Inkei," and "Tosatsu is certainly taking her time," and finally "This is far and away my laziest and most dilatory slave."

By the time Pipit had licked up the last puddle, she was as humiliated as she'd ever been in her life, and white-hot with resentment for Inkei - it was his cum, after all, and it should have been his job to clean it up, and Mistress Ai had been directing her comments to him.

Pipit sat up and looked at Ai, who returned her look, expression flat and clinical. The look on her Mistress's face filled Pipit with fear.

"I'm sorry - " she began.

"Inkei needs a rimjob," Mistress Ai said. "You owe him that for taking his job away. Lie on your back."

Pipit didn't want to rim Inkei, whose pale, hairless body she now found repellent, like a grub, but she was frightened of Mistress Ai, and she longed to obey her. She lay on her back.

"Inkei," said Mistress Ai. He straddled Pipit's head and lowered himself till he was squatting, hairless asshole pressed against her mouth.

"Lick him," said Mistress Ai, and Pipit put her tongue out and wetted him.

"In every group of people, big or small," said Ai, "there is always a hierarchy. You may masturbate."

Pipit put her hand on her pussy and rubbed herself, ashamed that she needed to do it.

"Everyone has a unique place in the hierarchy. No two people ever have the same rank; there are no equals. Someone must always be on top," Ai continued, "and someone on the bottom. The person on the bottom gets the kicks and the insults, licks the cum off the floor, and kisses the asses. You are on the bottom today, below my slave Inkei, and you'll be there, kissing ass, whenever you serve me in my home."

Pipit squirmed on the floor as she rubbed her clit; she slurped and sucked Inkei's anus as he jerked off above. Her anger was dissolving in shame and arousal.

"But remember," said Ai, "that it's always possible to sink lower. I know not only what you did, but also what you were thinking as you were watching us. If I ever catch you thinking such things again, I'll see that you sink lower than you ever thought possible."

Pipit groaned and kissed Inkei's ass wetly. She was beginning to love him.

"You may come in Tosatsu's mouth," said Ai. Inkei raised himself a little, Pipit obediently opened her mouth, and he put the head of his cock into her. She closed her lips around him, and he jerked off a few times and came, cock throbbing as his cum gushed into her. Surely he came no less than he had just a few minutes before.

"Swallow Inkei's semen," said Ai, "and when you understand how far beneath him you are, you may have your orgasm."

Pipit forced down Inkei's cum with one huge gulp and thought of what she was - cum sucker, ass licker, the scummy girl who lay on the floor masturbating while Ai and Inkei looked on impassively. Overcome with self-loathing, fingers in her slimy gash, she came and came, weeping and choking, "I'm sorry, Mistress Ai! I'm sorry, Inkei!"

She lay spent on the floor, eyes closed. She didn't want to see the looks on their faces. She didn't want them to look at her, either: she was ugly, a monster.

Something soft and warm touched her cheek. She opened her eyes and saw Ai kneeling beside her, hand extended, petting her.

"You should take pride in your place in the hierarchy," said Ai softly. "It's just as honorable to be on the bottom as it is to be on top. Always remember, when we who are superior despise and humiliate you, that we do it lovingly."

"Mistress?" Pipit said.

"Yes, Tosatsu?"

"May I have another shower?"

"Of course. And then we'll have lunch, and you'll go introduce yourself to Neko."

* * *

The girl gave Pipit a shy smile and said, "I'm Neko."

Neko was small, plain, and mousy, and her voice was thin and reedy. Her manner was timid and cringing, as if she expected Pipit to hit her. In fact, Pipit did want to hit her - Neko had that effect on people. Pipit decided that if there was going to be a household hierarchy, Neko would surely be on the bottom.

Pipit forced herself to smile and said, "I'm Pipit, but Mistress Ai has decided to call me Tosatsu."

Neko smiled and said, "Mistress is ingenious with names. Neko means cat in Japanese."

Pipit said, "Tosatsu means voyeur. I'm not sure I like it."

"Shall I call you Pipit, then?"

"Thanks, I'd like that."

"I'll show you around."

The apartment was plain and clean with no more than the requisite amount of practical furniture. All the rooms - living room, kitchen, two bedrooms and a single bath - were small but not quite cramped. Pipit was surprised to notice that Neko's bedroom had a St. Andrew's cross in it.

The bed in the other bedroom was already made up. Neko said, "Would you like to rest? If your job interview was anything like mine, you're probably pretty tired. I usually eat at six - I have enough food for two - and then we have to be at work at eight." 

"Thanks, I'd like to rest," said Pipit. She was tired: after her strenuous night and morning, she had helped Inkei fix lunch, eaten hers from a dog bowl, and cleaned up afterwards. Mistress Ai had rewarded her with one heavenly kiss. She entered the room and closed the door. She lay on the bed, and instantly fell into a sound sleep.



Pipit Ch. 03



Author's note: Here's Chapter 3 of "Pipit," the story of a submissive struggling to make her way in the world. She was cast out and homeless at the end of Chapter 1, but Mistress Ai, a wise and powerful Dominant, and also the owner of Mistress Shigemi's House of Kink, has given her a job as a professional submissive and a new name - Tosatsu. Ai has also found her a roommate: Neko, another of her professional submissives. You, um, weren't counting on reading a story about nice people, were you? Tags: Lesbian sex, Rimming, Toys, Humiliation, Cage, Orgasm denial, Bathroom use control, Prostitution.

Chapter 3. Pro sub

Pipit went to the kitchen after her nap, thinking to help out, only to find that Neko's idea of cooking was to put two frozen dinners in the microwave. It would have to do for tonight.

Neko said, "I'm really relieved to finally have a roommate. The money's good, working for Mistress Ai, but this city's like so expensive."

Pipit said, "I'm relieved to have a job and a place to live. I hope we get along well."

"I know we will," said Neko brightly.

"How do you like working for Mistress Ai?" Pipit asked.

"I love it," Neko said. "I'm a huge masochist, and I love the intensity of like three Dominants wanting to whip me in one night."

"I've never had more than one Master at a time," said Pipit. "It sounds strange."

"I guess," said Neko. "I've never had a Master - not for more than an hour or two at a time."

"Is it strange," Pipit asked, "never having sex with your tops? With my Masters, I've never had to worry about where play ended and sex began."

"Yeah," said Neko. "It's the downside of being a pro sub. In most scenes you're doing things that feel like they ought to end with sex, but they don't. It's like getting on a train for Boston, but they make you get off in Providence." She wrinkled her nose. "You come home frustrated a lot of nights."

Pipit guessed she'd be masturbating a lot. She wondered what feelings she'd have when she did.

They left together for Mistress Shigemi's House of Kink, which proved to be a discreetly marked doorway on 23rd Street. A stair led up to a large space with a sex shop in front. Neko led Pipit to an office behind the sex shop and introduced her to the manager, Mistress Kathy, who gave her a tour of the facility. There were five playrooms in various colors and styles: a dark dungeon with stone walls, an oversize medical examination room, a lounge with velvet chairs and bondage table, a warehouse interior with rough-hewn posts and beams, and a pet shop with cages. There were crosses, whipping horses, and other equipment in all the rooms. There were racks of whips, canes, and leashes, and an air of menace everywhere. Pipit counted three scenes going on in the rooms, and in one room there was a private party of about a dozen people.

Hidden from the clients' view, there was a small lounge where the employees could hang out when they weren't seeing clients. There was no BDSM equipment here, but comfortable chairs and sofas, a wide-screen TV, and tables on which were stacked magazines, laptop computers, and cell phones, along with soda cans and half-full cigarette packs. A hard, middle-aged Domme wearing a black corset and fishnet stockings was relaxing on a sofa.

Kathy said, "Tosatsu, this is Mistress Raquel."

Raquel sat up and looked at her hungrily. "Kathy probably told you the boring rule about sex with the clients," she said.

Pipit said, "Mistress Ai told me."

"Well," said Raquel, "there's no rule against the pro Dommes fucking the pro subs."

"Behave yourself, Raquel," said Kathy. "Come with me, Tosatsu." Kathy led Pipit to her office. She said, "We'll have a little profile of you up on our website by tomorrow, and shortly afterwards clients will start to call about you or come in looking for you. I'd like you to keep regular hours till you get a little clientele - you know, people who come just for you - and then you can start working by appointment only, during hours you choose.

"How long does it usually take to get a clientele?" Pipit asked.

"It varies, depending on how good the Domme or sub is. Some always struggle. Your friend Neko, on the other hand, was a superstar the instant she set foot in this place. She has all the work she can handle."

That surprised Pipit. She would have expected the mousy Neko to spend most of her time twiddling her thumbs. She asked, "What makes a sub like Neko so popular?"

"It's hard to say exactly," Kathy said. "There's got to be an element of magic in it; otherwise anyone could do it. But what I see when I watch Neko with a Dominant is absolute conviction. When she gets caned, she seems to be in the worst possible agony and at the same time to be experiencing the greatest possible pleasure. If a Dominant is insulting her, she looks like she wants to die of humiliation and like she's going to come any second. Make her eat from a dog bowl and she looks like she can hardly bear to do it, and yet it's the best meal of her life. She looks like she spends almost all her time in subspace. The important part of it, of course, is how it makes the client feel. You come away from playing with her feeling immensely powerful and infinitely understanding and wise, like the world's greatest Dominant. It sounds overblown, but I've played with her, and it's true. It's a rare talent to make another person feel that way."

Pipit wondered why Neko needed a roommate if she was so fabulously successful here.

Kathy said, "Our rooms are all wired for video and sound. Our bouncers watch and listen in the back. We use the stoplight system for safewords so the bouncer doesn't have to memorize a lot of them. If he hears you shout 'Red,' he'll be there in seconds to make sure the scene stops. If you say 'Yellow,' probably I or one of the other girls will come to help you get things calmed down and renegotiate if you have to."

Pipit stayed at Shigemi's for six hours, but no walk-in clients wanted role play that night. Instead, she spent some time working on her profile with Kathy and a lot of time watching Neko and the others on the monitors in the back.

Neko was as remarkable as Kathy had said. She did almost exclusively impact play, and over the course of the shift she was spanked, flogged, paddled and caned by three different Dominants. Pipit got turned on watching. It wasn't the action that was hot - the Dominants, two men and a woman, were just competent. Rather, it was Neko herself. There was something about the way her body twisted, the way she screamed, wept, and begged for mercy, that was so compelling that Pipit wanted to rush into the scene, hug her, and baby her. She was surprised by her own response: she'd never considered herself the motherly type.

They got home at two in the morning, having shared a silent taxi ride together. Neko said, "I always have a glass of wine after my shift. Do you want one? Sorry I just have white."

"White's nice," Pipit said. "Thanks."

Neko brought two wineglasses from the kitchen, and they sat together on the living room sofa.

"I was watching you on the monitors," Pipit said. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," Neko said. "Sometimes there are two or three scenes going on in a room - we don't expect privacy."

"I was really impressed," Pipit said.

"Thanks," Neko said. "I really love what I do, and I get a lot of love from my clients."

"I could tell," Pipit said. "I mean, that you love your work."

Neko sipped her wine. "You see what I meant about sex, though," she said. "Each of those scenes would have had some kind of sex play if it wasn't for the rule against it. The rule is a good one, we have to stay, like, legal. But it always feels like you stopped too soon. It's like edging all night long."

"I could see that," said Pipit. "I got hot watching you. I can't imagine how hot you must have gotten, being in the scenes. It had to be frustrating."

They quietly sipped their wine. Pipit stole a glance at Neko and caught her looking at her. They both looked away.

"You're really pretty," Neko said. "You're going to be popular."

"Thanks," Pipit said. "I hope I can get some regulars. I don't think I'll be as popular as you, though."

They fell silent again. Pipit stole another glance, and this time Neko was looking into her wineglass. The more Pipit saw of Neko, the better she looked. Her thin lips were nicely curved, her nose had a bump, but a pleasant bump, and her eyes were soulful. She was vibrant somehow. Pipit wanted to see her naked. She wondered if it was possible to seduce her.

Pipit had hardly formed the thought when Neko turned to her abruptly and said, "Do you want to have sex with me?"

Pipit did, but it took her a couple of seconds to gather her wits, and Neko rushed in to fill the silence, speaking rapidly. "I mean, I'm not saying we should be like lovers. Sometimes, you know, sex is just a nice thing for friends to do, don't you think? And when I get home from work I'm always so turned on, you know? I usually masturbate, I have some nice toys, I really love them, I'll show them to you sometime, but there's nothing like another person, don't you think? And it doesn't have to be kinky - it's just nice to not be alone."

Neko paused to draw a breath, and Pipit stood up, pulled her top off, and pushed her shorts and panties down. She sat on the sofa again.

"So," Neko said, "that's a yes?"

"I'm not a Dominant," Pipit said. "I can't be a Dominant for you."

"Me neither," said Neko. She stood. Like Pipit, she was wearing just a shirt and shorts, and it took her only a few seconds to take them off. "But it doesn't matter, does it? Sex is nice even without power exchange. But let's one of us top, okay?" She sat and reached for her purse.

Pipit said, "Okay."

Neko got a coin out of her wallet and said, "Whoever wins tops. Heads or tails?"

"I've always been more tail than head," said Pipit, smiling.

Neko flipped the coin and let it fall on the floor. They both bent over to look at it.

"Heads. You're the top," said Pipit. She took a sip of her wine and waited, feeling happy.

Neko leaned over and kissed Pipit. A little thrill ran through her - yes, there was definitely something about Neko, who touched her left nipple, making her shiver with pleasure, and then squeezed, making her gasp. Neko moved closer and put one arm around her; her tongue probed Pipit's mouth.

Neko gently pushed Pipit's shoulders, making her lie down. She bent over and kissed her, reaching for her pussy with one hand. Pipit spread her legs for her, and moaned as her fingers slid into her and her palm rubbed her clit.

"You like finger-fucking?" Neko whispered, her breath soft on Pipit's lips. "What else do you like?"

"You," Pipit whispered. "Your body."

Neko knelt on the sofa behind Pipit's head and crept into a sixty-nine; she lowered her pussy onto Pipit's hungry mouth and in the same moment closed her mouth over Pipit's pussy. Her tongue was gentle and her manner caring and sweet; she was responsive as Pipit licked her wet pussy and softly sucked her swollen clit. Pipit stared at the welts and scars that crisscrossed Neko's bottom and came softly - Neko came too, just a little later. They'd both been too hot to want to draw it out. They cuddled on the sofa.

Neko said, "Do you think we could do that when we're horny after work? Not, you know, like lovers, but maybe like friends?"

Pipit said, "I'd like that. I think I'm going to like being your roommate."

They lay together silently for a while.

Neko said, "Listen. There's something I've got to tell you. Mistress Ai couldn't tell you because she doesn't know. I hope you don't mind. But . . . some clients, after I've been seeing them for a while, I let them come here."

Pipit looked at her blankly for a few seconds, and then she understood. "Because sex isn't allowed at the dungeon?"

Neko nodded. "A lot of the girls do it. I mean, not all. You don't have to feel like out of step if you don't want to. It helps make ends meet - but it's more that after a while it just feels right to add sex to the scene. We can't sneak it in at Mistress's place: it would put her at risk, and nobody's willing to do that. We all love Mistress Ai."

"I understand," said Pipit. "What should I do when you bring a client in?"

"Most roommates just like hang out as usual," said Neko. "It's actually a good thing when a client knows somebody else is there. It's a safety thing. I've got to know a client really well before I'll bring them here, but even so it can be kind of scary. So it's good to have a roommate. I hope you don't think I'm just using you. I mean, it's good to have a roommate anyway."

"It's okay," said Pipit. "If I decide to bring clients here, you'll make me feel safer too." She was starting to get aroused again.

"Mainly I'm hoping you don't mind," said Neko. "You'll probably hear like moaning and stuff, you know."

"I've heard it before," Pipit said, and kissed her. "One more time?" she said. "I'll top this time if you like."

The next day Pipit went out and bought some basic toiletries and a little clothing, just what she needed to feel decent till her things arrived - underwear, another pair of shorts, another T shirt. She went to her bank, now that she had an address, ordered checks and an ATM card, and got some cash. She could have spared herself the shopping, because when she got back, the box from Daniel and Karen's place was waiting for her - her clothing, some toiletries and cosmetics, and a vial of the antibiotics Karen had made her take after a toilet session - a little spiteful gesture, no doubt.

She went out to a local grocery and bought some things for dinner - nothing special, just some tilapia fillets, vegetables, and a bottle of white wine. She sauteed the fish and stir-fried the vegetables.

Neko said, "You're a real cook, Pipit!"

"It's because I had full-time Masters," said Pipit. "They all expect you to cook like Rachel Ray and fuck like Bobbi Starr. This is a simple dinner, though."

At Mistress Shigemi's that night, Pipit had her first client, a man who wanted to give her a medical exam. He took her blood pressure and pulse, checked her tonsils, tested her reflexes, gave her an enema, and conducted a thorough gynecological exam. None of this particularly interested Pipit, but she did her best to seem excited and aroused.

When Pipit and Neko got home, Neko said, "I'm expecting a client in a half hour. I hope that's okay."

"No problem," said Pipit. She'd been hoping for more sex with Neko, but she supposed she'd get it another night.

Pipit could hear conversation, the slap of the whip, and Neko's sobs through the wall between their bedrooms. She masturbated and fell asleep.

The medical client returned the next night and again three nights later. She had one walk-in client who wanted a puppy, but he didn't return. On her third night, another client tied her to the table in the velvet lounge and dripped wax on her. She liked that, and the client came back once more that week. But by the end of the week she felt that her clientele was growing all too slowly.

Meanwhile, Neko was busy for her whole shift, and during that first week three more clients in all visited her in the apartment - two in the afternoon and one more in the early morning.

Kathy said, "You're doing fine - be patient!" But Pipit was impatient and maybe a little resentful, especially when Neko was unavailable for sex after their shift.

At the end of Pipit's first week with Neko, her checks and ATM card arrived. She'd been borrowing Neko's laptop computer, but she decided to get one of her own. She came back with a cheap one she'd gotten for less than four hundred - just good enough for web browsing and email.

After she'd set up her own Gmail account, she got an account with another free email service under a false name. She wrote to the address on the Mistress Shigemi website:

I don't like to tattle, but it isn't right that Neko's been taking her clients home and fucking them there. I've been working at Mistress Shigemi's a long time now, and I've always felt like I could be proud of it. But now Neko is making it into a whorehouse and bragging about it everywhere. It's a disgrace, and you should really do something about it.

She sent the email and deleted the account.

That night the medical client and the one with the wax came back, and after their shift Pipit and Neko made love. Pipit topped that night: she tied Neko to the bed, sat on her face, and fucked her with a strap-on, turned on by her small, neat pussy.

Neko had clients in the next two nights. While listening to her moan on the second night, Pipit created another email account and sent another note to Mistress Shigemi's:

All the girls are talking about Neko's whoring. A lot of us are going to resign unless you do something about it.

Again she deleted the account after she'd sent the email.

The next night, when they got to work, Kathy called them both into her office.

"Neko," she said, "we've been receiving anonymous complaints that you've been working as a prostitute in your spare time."

"I haven't, Mistress Kathy!"

Pipit took Neko's hand and said, "I think I'd know if she'd been doing that, Mistress Kathy."

Kathy said, "We have to take allegations like these seriously. We hired an investigator to look into it after we got the first note, and he's confirmed it." She tapped a folder on her desk. "You can look at the evidence if you like."

Neko started to cry. "I'm sorry, Mistress Kathy. I won't do it again."

"Not here, anyway," Kathy said. "Mistress Ai has told me to let you go."

Neko said, "Kathy, I - "

"I'm sorry, Neko," said Kathy, "but it's final. Gather up your things and go."

Neko and Pipit got up.

"Stay here, Tosatsu," said Kathy. "I want a word with you."

When Neko had left, Kathy said, "I'm going overlook your lying for Neko."

"I'm sorry, Mistress Kathy," Pipit said.

Kathy said, "I'd have done the same."

"What'll become of Neko?" Pipit asked.

"We've never had to let anyone go before, but yeah, it's common enough for pro Dommes and pro subs to become prostitutes. It's an easy transition: some of Neko's clients will be happy to become her johns. That's one thing I wanted to talk to you about. I think you'd better find some other place to live."

"I don't know, Mistress . . ."

"I admire your loyalty, but it would be best not to be around if Neko crashes and burns. She could take you down with her. Mistress Raquel prefers to live alone, but she has a spare bedroom, and she's agreed to let you stay there till you find another place. Have you signed a lease yet?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Well, I'll take care of getting you out of it. And I'll go with you to Neko's tonight to get your stuff and take you to Raquel's. I've made her promise to keep her hands off you."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"We have just two submissives now, you and a girl who works afternoons. I know your thing is role play, but can you do impact play at all?"

"Yes, Mistress. I have limits. They can't break the skin. I don't want scars."

"You're sure? Neko just charged extra for breaking the skin."

"I'm sorry, Mistress. It's a hard limit."

That night, Pipit had three clients: one was her medical client, one flogged her, and the third caned her. A fourth client left after he was told that Neko no longer worked there.

Afterwards Pipit and Kathy went to Neko's apartment and found her sitting stunned on her sofa.

"I'm sorry, Neko," Pipit said. "Mistress Kathy says I have to move out."

"Anyway, it's best that you make a clean break with Mistress Shigemi's," said Kathy.

Pipit still had the cardboard box that had come from Daniel and Karen's. She put her toiletries and her few changes of clothing in it, and Kathy carried her new computer.




Pipit Ch. 03



Pipit hugged Neko at the door and said, "I'm really sorry, Neko. I hope everything turns out well for you."

"Thanks," said Neko, and kissed her. "You've been a real friend."

Raquel had an apartment on Eighth Street. The living room they were standing in was cluttered, with magazines heaped on tables, empty coffee cups on the floor, and a big vibrator on the sofa. Raquel was wearing leather pants and a leather top. The outfit looked hot for a July night. Pipit set down her box, and Kathy set the computer on a table.

"Okay," Kathy said. "I'll see you tomorrow. Raquel, you behave yourself."

When Kathy had left, Raquel said, "What name are you using again?"

Pipit said, "Mistress Ai calls me Tosatsu."

Raquel said, "To-fucking-satsu. I wouldn't let Ai give me one of her dumb-ass names. Let me see you naked."

"Kathy said you promised to keep your hands off me," said Pipit.

"Fuck Kathy," said Raquel. "I haven't fucking touched you yet. Now take your fucking clothes off, or I'll put you out on the fucking street. And you will address me as Daddy."

During the ten seconds it had taken for Raquel to deliver that speech, Pipit's temperature had risen about ten degrees. She undressed.

"You're a pretty little cunt," said Raquel. "I'll bet you're a slut, aren't you? Fuck around a lot?"

"Yes," said Pipit meekly.

"Yes, Daddy," said Daddy.

"Yes, Daddy," said Pipit.

"Bi, I bet. You eat cunt?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"That's good. Daddy likes." She came to Pipit, brushed a breast with one hand and slid a finger into her slit. "Soft baby skin, nice wet slash. I think I'll call you babycunt. What kind of play do you like, babycunt?"

"Humiliation, Daddy." Pipit was terrified and excited. It had been a long time since she'd felt such strong emotions.

"Limits?"

"No breaking the skin - please, Daddy. No blood play. I can't eat shit."

"Really, now!" said Daddy. "A little birdie told me you loved to eat shit - and now you've made it a hard limit. What a fucking pity! Bend over and hold your ankles."

Pipit did as she was told.

Daddy walked around behind her, and a moment later Pipit felt a wet finger probing her anus.

"Nice asshole. I'll bet you're a regular butt-slut. You like big things in your ass, babycunt?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"I got some big things for you. Funny thing about Neko getting fired for what half the girls in the fucking place do. Who do you suppose would tip off Kathy like that? You suppose it might be the butt-fucking sub who ended up with all Neko's business? No, don't answer, you'd just fucking lie. You are a liar, aren't you, babycunt?"

Pipit didn't say anything, and Daddy gave her bottom a hard whack.

"Speak when you're spoken to, skank!" she barked. "Are you a liar?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Fuck Neko, anyway. I'm glad she's gone. Stuck up cunt never gave me the time of day. But you're going to be Daddy's butt-toy, aren't you?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good. I know you'll be a good obedient butt-slut. Otherwise, you know, rumors might get started about why Neko got canned."

Daddy walked around Pipit, grasped her chin, and made her stand up again. She moved in close till their faces were three inches apart.

"Pretty little treacherous lying butt-fuck skank. Dangerous little bitch. I like you, babycunt - we're going to have fun together." Daddy wriggled out of her pants; she had no underwear on. Holding Pipit's gaze, she backed up to an overstuffed chair, sat on the edge, and slouched way back. She raised her legs till her knees were near her shoulders and wrapped her arms around them to hold them in place. Her pussy gaped, labia big and floppy; her anus was brown and puckered, the skin of her crack white and shiny.

"Better get started, slut," she said. "You fucking know what to do."

Pipit did know what to do. She dropped to her hands and knees, crawled to Daddy, and kissed her anus.

"There's my good butt-slut," said Daddy. "Put some fucking tongue in it."

The humiliation made Pipit's mouth water. She licked Daddy's ass wetly.

"I can tell this is your calling, babycunt. You must have kissed a lot of ass in your time, hmm?"

"Yes Daddy," said Pipit, voice muffled in her crack.

Daddy made her sphincter gape wide open - a trick Pipit had never seen before, which took her by surprise. Daddy said, "Put your tongue in, butt slut," and Pipit did that, thankful that Daddy's ass wasn't smelly or dirty. "Run it all around inside, whore, and lick me out, like a sweet French kiss."

Pipit did as she was told, thinking she was a butt slut and a treacherous bitch. She had gotten Neko fired, and it would be a fitting punishment for her to eat Daddy's ass for the rest of her life. Still, she was relieved when Daddy let her ass close and said, "Very good, butt-girl. Now your reward is you can eat my cunt."

She let her legs down, and Pipit sank her face into Daddy's big wet pussy. She ran her tongue up and down her wide slit and into her hollow vagina; she tongued her clit.

"Yeah, babycunt, work on that clit," said Daddy, and Pipit sucked it and licked, drooling into her. Her saliva and Daddy's juices ran down into her crack and dripped onto the upholstery.

Daddy was getting excited now, talking less. She took Pipit's head in her hands and pulled her fiercely into her pussy, so hard Pipit could hardly catch a breath, and humped her face, panting and groaning, till she came with a long, loud shout. Then she put a foot on Pipit's shoulder and shoved her back roughly.

"Get away from me, you filthy cunt," she said, and lay still for a minute, catching her breath. "Go to the bathroom," she said. "Piss, shit, do whatever you fucking have to do."

Pipit got a few toiletries from her box and searched out the bathroom. When she got back, Daddy was standing in the middle of the living room. She grabbed Pipit's braid and hauled her roughly and painfully into a small bedroom that had been equipped as a playroom: she had wedged in a cross, a small bondage table, and large wooden stocks. She pointed to a large pet cage and said, "In there." Pipit crawled in, and Daddy locked the gate with a padlock.

Daddy said, "I suppose Kathy told you I had a spare bedroom. Well, this is it. I'll let you out in the morning."

She left the room. The bottom of the cage was cold metal; Pipit would have no comfort tonight. She curled up and touched her clit. Her pussy was still wet.

"I'm sorry, Neko," she whispered, and rubbed herself. "Sorry, Daddy. So sorry." Her tears puddled on the floor of the cage.

* * *

When Pipit woke up, she didn't know the time, but from the way the sun was slanting in she guessed it was late morning. She lay in her cage and wondered if she'd fallen into the hands of a psychopath. By the time Daddy came to let her out, Pipit was desperate to get to the bathroom.

Daddy was smiling a gentle smile, naked except for a black strap-on. Her breasts were big, like water balloons; her bottom was dimpled. On her stomach was a big tattoo of a woman and a man bound back to back, and she had other tattoos all over - barbed wire, a triskelion in a circle, a skull with tatters of flesh clinging to it, and other things. She was carrying a collar with a leash attached and a bottle of lubricant, which she set down by the cage.

"Did we sleep well, babycunt?" she said in a lilting voice, opening the gate.

"Yes, Daddy," said Pipit.

"That's nice," she said. "Little sluts always begin the day by sucking Daddy's cock. Come out, little slut."

Pipit crawled out, and Daddy put the collar on her. "Please, Daddy, may I go to the bathroom?"

"First things first, babycunt. Suck my cock."

Pipit sucked Daddy's dildo. It was painful how badly she had to piss.

"You're a shit cocksucker," said Daddy. "I can't feel a thing."

As Daddy pulled the dildo out of her mouth, Pipit felt a little stab of shame, even though she knew it was absurd.

"Well," said Daddy, "get on your knees and elbows. It's time for your butt-fuck."

"Please, Daddy, I need to piss!" Pipit pleaded.

"Don't ask again," Daddy said, "or you'll find out how I punish butt-fuck skanks. Now get on your fucking knees," she said, and gave her a shove.

Pipit got on her elbows and knees and waited, heart pounding, while Daddy lubricated her. She tried not to think about how much she needed to piss, but it was impossible to ignore the pressure. And then, when Daddy pushed into her ass - suddenly and roughly, the way Master Frederick used to - it was all she could do not to piss herself. Between the familiar pain of the ass-fuck and the awful pressure on her bladder, it was almost unbearable. And for what? Daddy couldn't be getting much pleasure out of it, and Pipit certainly wasn't - it was just sadism. And yet her need for relief, and knowing only Daddy could give it, raised her emotions to fever pitch. She needed Daddy.

Finally Daddy stopped and pulled her dildo out. She sat cross-legged on the floor and said, "There's my sweet little butt-fuck skank. Come get a hug. Daddy will take care of her sweet babycunt."

Pipit crept into her lap, and Daddy hugged her to her big breasts and petted her. Pipit felt safe and cared for, as if Daddy were the only thing in the world she had to be scared of. She hoped Daddy wouldn't forget to let her piss, since she wasn't allowed to ask.

"Did you masturbate last night, babycunt?" Daddy asked.

"Yes, Daddy."

"I'll let it go for now, since I didn't tell you not to. But from now on you'll masturbate only when I give you permission. You'll come only when I tell you. You'll piss and shit only when I tell you. You'll shower or bathe when I tell you. You'll eat only what I give you, when I give it to you. Do you understand all that?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"There's my sweet slut." She unstrapped the dildo. "Now it's time for Daddy's orgasm." She let go of Pipit and lay back. Pipit lay on her stomach and went down on her, loving Daddy's big wet pussy, miserable and yet aroused by the pressure in her bladder, which lying like that made even more intense.

"Daddy, can I touch myself?" Pipit murmured into Daddy's pussy, though she already knew the answer.

"No, babycunt. You can touch me." Pipit put a finger in Daddy's vagina and fucked her as she made passionate love to her swollen clit, moisture pouring down her chin. Daddy spread her legs wider, and Pipit stroked a thigh with her other hand.

Daddy twisted both nipples and arched her back. "Yeah, eat me, little cunt-licker," she said. "Do it harder." Pipit licked and sucked Daddy's clit, longing to give her an orgasm, wanting to make it good for her. She fucked Daddy with two fingers and pressed the middle finger of her free hand firmly against Daddy's anus. She wiggled the finger and twisted it to work it a little way into her ass, and fucked her, pussy and anus, till finally Daddy cried "Oh, fuck!" and came, ass and vagina contracting around Pipit's fingers.

"That was good, babycunt," she said. "You might make a decent lover someday. Now Daddy'll give you a reward." She picked up the leash and stood. Pleased and proud to have been good for Daddy, Pipit got onto her hands and knees.

Daddy led her to the bathroom and said, "You can piss now." Pipit climbed onto the toilet and pissed, gazing gratefully at Daddy, who stood by, still holding the leash.

When Pipit had pissed and wiped, Daddy said, "On your knees again, little slut."

Pipit said, "Please, Daddy, can I have an orgasm?"

"No," said Daddy, "And don't fucking nag me about it anymore. Ask again and you'll get a punishment. You can make us breakfast." She led her to the kitchen, where Pipit saw that the clock in the microwave said eleven fifty.

Daddy left her alone to make coffee, four fried eggs sunny side up, and toast. When she came back to the kitchen she was holding two dog bowls.

"Pour some coffee into one," Daddy said. "Put two eggs in the other and crumble some toast on top."

Daddy put Pipit's bowls on the floor near a little table, where she herself sat to eat. Daddy massaged Pipit's pussy and anus with the big toe of her right foot while she ate and drank as best she could without hands, getting egg yolk and bread crumbs on her face. Pipit wished she could beg for an orgasm; somehow not being allowed to beg was making her arousal twice as intense.

Daddy went away while Pipit cleaned up, first washing her mouth in the kitchen sink. It was one o'clock by the time everything was clean and put away. Daddy called her to the living room, where she was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine. Pipit sat on the floor and rested her head on Daddy's knee.

Daddy combed Pipit's hair with her fingers and said, "Do you love me, babycunt?"

"Yes, Daddy," said Pipit, believing it was true.

"You're a sweet little girl, babycunt," said Daddy, "but I know better than to turn my back on you. You know what's going to happen to you if you ever cross me?"

"No, Daddy," said Pipit.

"I have lots of friends way more dangerous than you are, little slut. They've got sharp knives. They'll ruin that pretty face of yours."

Pipit felt cold deep inside. "Yes, Daddy," she said. Then she added, "I love you, Daddy. I'd never hurt you."

"I'll bet you loved Neko, too. Did you fuck her?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"I thought so. You're not the sort to let that pretty snatch of yours sit idle. Look at me, babycunt."

Pipit sat up and looked into her face.

"I'll make sure that sweet cunt stays busy and does some good for both of us. Here's how it's going to go down. Some day soon, maybe even tonight, a client at the dungeon will hint around, like maybe 'I wish I could be your Master for real,' or 'Don't you find the rules here kind of restrictive?' Or maybe he'll ask right out whether you ever see clients away from the dungeon. When that happens, you will say, 'Talk to Mistress Raquel about that.' Don't fucking say anything else; just send him to me. I'll set everything up. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," Pipit said, her excitement growing.

"I'll take care of you, babycunt," Daddy said, stroking her hair again as Pipit rested her head on her knee. "I'll do the scheduling, so your scenes don't conflict with mine. I'll make sure your scenes are safe and the clients respect your limits and safeword. I'll handle the money. I'll set the prices, pay for your food and rent out of my cut, and give you whatever isn't my cut. You won't ask either me or the clients about money."

"Yes, Daddy," said Pipit, knowing and not caring that Daddy's cut would be bigger than her own.

They sat for a long time, Daddy reading her magazine and Pipit on the floor beside her, letting her thoughts wander - sometimes yearning for an orgasm, sometimes thinking about the Mistress and Masters she'd lost. She tried not to think about Neko, but thoughts of her kept intruding. She'd come to love her face and body in just a short time. She felt bad, but . . . so what if Neko'd gotten her cute ass fired? It was her own fault for being as careless as she was about her whoring.

Pipit was tired. Her mind drifted, and she dozed on Daddy's knee. At three Daddy sent her for a nap. She came to wake her at four-thirty, made her take a shower, and led her to the playroom. She cuffed her to the cross and edged her for an hour with a vibrator, saying only "This'll get you ready for work." Pipit was sobbing and begging for an orgasm by the end of the hour, but Daddy wouldn't give her one.

At six thirty Daddy said, "Let's go, babycunt. We'll stop for a bite on the way to work. In the restaurant you'll call me Ma'am and pretend you're my meek little secretary. Got that?"

"Yes, Daddy," said Pipit.

* * *

It happened that very night as Daddy had said it would. The man who'd caned her the night before - his name was Jason - came back for another session. Pipit hated caning, but she was still so turned on from Daddy's edging that she spent almost the whole session in subspace. She was still there as she lay in his arms on the matted floor, and he said, "If I had one wish, Tosatsu, it'd be to make love to you."

Her own voice seemed to be coming from a great distance as she said, "Talk to Daddy."

"What?" the man said.

"Black corset," Pipit murmured. "Mistress Raquel. She'll fix everything."

When they got home after work, Daddy made Pipit undress, then took her in her arms and kissed her. She smelled good, like leather, sweat and pussy.

"You did good, babycunt," said Daddy. "Your pretty pussy will get a nice workout tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you, Daddy," said Pipit.

"I've got a reward for you, and a present," said Daddy.

Pipit's heart beat faster.

"Daddy's going to give babycunt a special kiss tonight for a reward," she said. "Then I'll show you your present."

Daddy put on Pipit's collar and leash and led her to her own bedroom - a place Pipit had never been. Everything there was black and red, except for the bed, which had a white cover.

"Up on the bed," said Daddy, "and show me your cunt."

Pipit climbed onto the bed, lay on her back, and spread her legs. Still standing on the floor, Daddy leaned over her and put a hand on her pussy. She said, "Babycunt had to be extra special good to get a treat like this. Treacherous little skanks don't get nice things just for hanging around and being cute. They've got to please Daddy. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," said Pipit, body on fire with need.

Daddy got onto the bed, knelt beside her, and kissed her breasts. She nibbled and sucked her nipples, and it was like summer lightning flickering all through Pipit's body. Daddy kissed her stomach and licked her belly button. She got between her legs and nibbled the insides of her thighs, working so very slowly that Pipit wept for the sensation and her own impatience. But she didn't dare to beg - Daddy wouldn't like that. So she writhed and moaned. She tried to touch her breasts, but Daddy noticed and swatted her hands away. "Uh uh," she said.

Finally Daddy's lips closed over her pussy, and her tongue slid into her, tickling her urethra, probing into her vagina, licking up and down - but not touching her clit.

"Oh, please!" Pipit whined, and tried to reach for herself, but Daddy seized her wrist, looked up, and said "Bad babycunt. Do that again and Daddy will punish. And no begging." Daddy teased Pipit's clit with the tip of her tongue.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Pipit cried, and squirmed and arched her back and moaned, Daddy sucking her clit now, till she was on the edge of orgasm.

Daddy sat up and said, "Babycunt like Daddy's special kiss?"

"Yes, Daddy," she said dejectedly.

"Do good with your client tomorrow, and maybe Daddy will give you an orgasm. Now it's time for your present."

Daddy led her to the playroom, where she went to a closet and pulled out a thin cotton-covered pad. She opened the cage, pushed the pad through the gate, and spread it on the bottom. It covered the metal floor neatly.

"There you are, babycunt," said Daddy. "How do you like it?"

"I love it. Thank you, Daddy," said Pipit, thinking that she'd sleep on the metal floor forever in exchange for one orgasm.

"Go to the bathroom, wash, piss, shit, and brush your teeth," said Daddy. "Then it'll be time for bed."

When Pipit returned, Daddy was holding a pair of leather cuffs connected by a short length of cable. She kissed her mouth, squeezed her ass, and said, "Climb into the cage." Pipit curled up on her new pad.

Daddy looped the cable through the bars of the cage and buckled the cuffs onto Pipit's wrists. The cable was so short that she couldn't reach the buckles - she might as well have been in handcuffs.

"There," said Daddy. "Now I can sleep easy, knowing you won't masturbate. Because you're a fucking liar, and I don't trust you. Sleep well, babycunt."




Pipit Ch. 03



Pipit lay in the cage and thought about her client's visit tomorrow. She could hardly sleep for arousal and happiness. She could almost taste the shame she'd feel as he fucked her and maybe came in her mouth - the humiliation afterwards when Daddy called her a filthy slut and punished her. Daddy had been so good to arrange it. Daddy loved and cared for her babycunt. Her thoughts grew vague and diffuse - misty impressions of love for Daddy - as sleep stole over her.



Pipit Ch. 04



Author's note: Here's Chapter 4 of "Pipit," the story of a submissive struggling to make her way in the world. Cast out and rejected by her former Masters, she's been hired as a professional submissive. After getting her friend and co-worker Neko fired for seeing clients after hours, she's been taken over by Mistress Raquel ("Daddy"), who's arranged an after-hours assignation for her. Meanwhile Andrew, the Master of Pipit's rival Emily, is having doubts about his ability to be a good Dominant. Thanks to my correspondent Sue, who put the idea of stocks in my head. Tags: Slave, Bondage, Oral sex, Anal sex, Group sex, Paddling, Ice, Peppers, Lesbian sex, Prostitution.

*****

Chapter 4. Moonlighting

Andrew wasn't satisfied - a vague discomfort somewhere inside - and he couldn't say why. When he thought about it rationally, he had to admit it was absurd. He had a life any man would envy, with two women always ready to fuck him at a moment's notice, either separately or together.

Five weeks into their new life as a family, he'd had them many times in all combinations. A few scenes stood out in his memory. Once he'd hogtied them both, tormented them with vibrators, and alternated fucking them front and back. As they'd played, he'd sensed the love between Emily and Amanda and their love for him, and he'd been hot with excitement.

Once he'd made Emily wear a butt plug while she was out all day shopping. She'd come home begging him to ass-fuck her, but he'd made her wait till the next morning, by which time she was beside herself. And once he'd come back to the apartment sweaty after a morning run and had caught Amanda staring at him. He'd made her lick the sweat from his body, and she'd spent much of the day in a trance.

He'd clarified a number of things about the boundaries of his authority - while he ruled the two women, Emily ruled Amanda too, and he had to avoid interfering with her authority. Having two owners didn't confuse Amanda, in whose mind she was slave to them both and loved them both, though she submitted to Emily with a devotion that she was incapable of with anyone else. This was all right with Andrew, since Emily's devotion to him was similarly absolute - she reserved only her responsibility for Amanda's well-being as an area in which she submitted to no one.

Andrew also accepted that the terms of his contract with Emily didn't permit him to control her relationship with Amanda. Emily's last Master, a compulsive voyeur, had tried to make them have sex so he could watch, precipitating the crisis that had brought Andrew and Emily back together. Andrew, on the other hand, liked seeing the women make love but didn't need it. Yet occasionally the two slaves would dash, giggling, into a room where he was trying to concentrate on the Anabasis Alexandri and tumble down into a sixty-nine on the floor. He'd harrumph and try to ignore them, but his resistance would soon be worn away. So when Emily, knowing they had his attention, would look up from Amanda's pussy with a naughty smile and say, "Fuck us, Master?" he'd be overcome with lust. His book would fall to the floor, and he'd tear his clothes off and take over their game.

Still, he was uneasy. Maybe it was an insecurity rooted in his knowledge that, though the women had given him authority over them, he was in important ways the most junior member of their family, the one who had the least experience in their lifestyle and knew least what he was doing. Maybe his male pride was bruised by the fact that the lowliest of the slaves, Amanda, possessed a small fortune given to her by her billionaire former owners, and Emily was well positioned to find a good job in some tech field, while he, the supposed Master, would be drawing a meager stipend as a graduate student in classics.

Or maybe he had some platonic sense that playing the Master's part, and having sex as Master, should be a transcendent experience for him as being a slave often was for the women. But the life of a Master was one of iron self-control, never the ecstasy of self-surrender. There seemed to be no domspace corresponding to their subspace.

And thrumming beneath it all was surely the eternal anxiety of that kind of man who loves to please women, as Andrew did: was he doing what they wanted? was he doing it right? was he good enough?

He needed advice, and to get it he turned to the most successful Dominant he knew: Mistress Ai. When she learned that he wanted to consult with her, she invited him to come to lunch the very same day.

It was Asoko, Ai's female slave, who opened the door to him. During the days that he, Emily, and Amanda had stayed with Ai, he had often seen her without really noticing her: Emily and Amanda had claimed his whole attention. But they weren't with him now, and he took a good look at Asoko. She was about thirty-five years old, plump and ample-breasted, with an intricate interlace design tattooed on her right thigh. Her round face was sunny and welcoming. Like all Ai's slaves, she was naked except for a plain black collar. Unlike the male slaves, she'd been allowed to keep her eyebrows and her blond hair, which she wore in a side ponytail twisted like a loose rope: she was hairless everywhere else. Andrew thought her more than a little attractive.

Asoko led him to the living room, where Ai rose and greeted him. They sat while Asoko went about preparing their lunch.

After Ai had listened to the news about Emily and Amanda, she invited Andrew to tell her what she could do to help him, and he confided his misgivings and anxieties. "I sometimes wonder," he concluded, "whether I'm really a Dominant at all."

"It's my opinion that you are," Ai said, and Andrew drew a sigh of relief. "That is to say, you have a native capacity for dominance. But that capacity is still undeveloped. Similarly, a native ability as a baseball player doesn't lead to a great career in sports unless one trains rigorously."

"That occurred to me," said Andrew. "I was wondering if it might be a good idea to practice - you know, with a submissive who's not my own and could give me advice about what I was doing right and wrong."

Ai smiled. "You could. The problem is that - well, I'll show you. Asoko!"

Asoko came hurrying from the kitchen. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Would you like to suck Master Andrew's cock?"

Asoko smiled brightly. "Oh, yes, Mistress! Right now?"

"No, Asoko, not right now. Or perhaps Master Andrew would rather fuck you."

Asoko glanced at Andrew with warm eyes. "Oh, Mistress! That would be heaven."

"On the other hand, he might decide to forgo sex and simply flog you."

"Thank you, Mistress. It would be an honor to be flogged by Master Andrew."

Ai said, "If Master Andrew were to play with you, what would you want him to do?"

Asoko looked confused for a moment, then said, "I would want Master Andrew to do what pleased him, as long as he respected my limits."

"Thank you, Asoko. I'll reward you later for those good answers. You may bring the soup."

Asoko went back to the kitchen.

"You know well," said Ai, "that a submissive surrenders her will to you. She's far more likely to echo your own desires than to give you useful advice."

"Okay," said Andrew. "Well, then, I'm out of ideas."

Ai said, "Probably the single most valuable thing a Dominant can do is spend some time as a submissive - to experience what they experience and see the world from their perspective. The submissive is tuned to the desires and needs of the Dominant, but it is even more important that a Dominant be tuned to the desires and needs of the submissive. To perform the role properly and safely, it's essential to be in sympathetic communication with the submissive at every moment. This is a more important ability than that of persuading people to obey you. It's the ability that needs to be most carefully cultivated - not only because it's important in itself, but also because it's an area in which it is easy to go dangerously wrong. The best way to cultivate that ability is to experience the Dominant/submissive relationship from both sides."

"I get it," said Andrew. "So I should spend some time as a slave. How do I go about doing that?"

"You could visit professional Dommes," she said, "but doing so would probably be beyond the means of either a store clerk or a graduate student. The cheaper alternative - and the better one, really - would be to join my household for a day as a slave. I know exactly how Emily likes to play. I could help you experience what she experiences. And to be honest, it would be fun for me. There hasn't been enough variation in my routine lately." She smiled.

"That's incredibly generous," Andrew said. "I accept your invitation."

"Excellent," said Ai. "Why don't we make you a slave for twenty-four hours. We could start at noon tomorrow, if you're free, and go to noon the following day."

"I'm free," said Andrew; "the women can get along by themselves. I wonder what I should tell Emily, though."

Asoko came in carrying two plates with rice balls and vegetables. Her eyes shifted from Andrew to Mistress Ai and back again. She put down the plates and left, hips swinging a little.

Ai said, "Tell her you're going to be my slave for a day - or tell her nothing. As her Master, you're not required to ask her permission to do this - or, for that matter, to play with Asoko, who has, I see, become rather excited and needs our attention. Would you like to play with us after lunch?"

Asoko was returning with a water jug. Andrew allowed himself a glance at her plump, bare mound and said, "Thanks - I'd love to."

* * *

Daddy buzzed Master Jason in from the street, and a minute later there was a knock on the door.

Daddy said, "What are you waiting for, idiot cunt? Go let him in!"

Pipit was naked except for a collar with a leash that hung down between her breasts. Daddy was wearing her leathers again. Pipit ran to the door and opened it. Jason was soft and overweight, a man of about forty with a close-cropped beard. He wore a brown jacket, gray pants, and a dull red tie.

He was startled by the sight of Pipit naked in the doorway but managed to recover gracefully. Pipit liked the effect she was having on him.

She smiled and said, "Come in."

He came in and she closed the door. Daddy approached and said, "Go to the playroom and wait for us, cunt. I need to have a word with Master Jason."

Pipit went into the playroom, where the stocks had been dragged to the center of the floor. She knelt on a mat, staring at the stocks and feeling scared and excited - so like the delicious feeling she used to have while waiting for Master Christopher to bring a friend to his dungeon to fuck her. She knew Daddy was reviewing limits and safewords, condom use and other safety things, and getting Master Jason to tell her what he planned to do so she could make sure it was all right. Maybe she was making him pay her as well, but Pipit wasn't supposed to worry about money, so she put that out of her mind.

Finally Daddy brought Master Jason into the room. Pipit stayed on her knees and waited to find out what the game would be. Daddy and Master Jason stood close on either side and looked down at her.

Master Jason said, "It's a pretty cunt."

Daddy said, "But it's a naughty cunt. It masturbated two nights ago without Daddy's permission, and last night it tried to touch itself while Daddy was giving it a treat. So it's an ungrateful cunt, too."

Pipit flushed. She knew perfectly well that she shouldn't have masturbated without Daddy's permission, even if Daddy hadn't told her so. A wave of hot shame burned through her, and she began to cry. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she sobbed. "Please don't punish me."

Daddy said, "Bad little cunts need punishment so they can learn to be good little cunts. Master Jason has agreed to teach you to behave. You'll do what he says, and Daddy'll watch and assist."

Master Jason walked over to the stocks. "Crawl to me, cunt," he said.

Doing her best to look terrified, Pipit crept slowly till she was at Master's feet. She knelt again. The stocks towered over her: it was a pair of frames put together in an L, with boards for the feet in the bottom horizontal frame and boards for the head and wrists, about waist-high, in the vertical frame.

Master Jason said, "What are you waiting for, cunt? Get in the fucking stocks." He grabbed her under an armpit and hauled her, whining, to her feet. She let Master remove her collar and manipulate her body to put her in the stocks, hands lingering on her stomach, thighs, and ass. When he was finished, she was standing in the bottom frame, ankles immobilized more than two feet apart. She was bent at the waist, torso horizontal, with her head and hands in the vertical frame.

She'd never been in the stocks before. She experimented with moving her body. She could wiggle her bottom and bend her legs a bit, but couldn't move a lot without discomfort. She felt as vulnerable as she ever had bound to a cross or table.

Master was walking slow circles around her, undressing as he went, till he was wearing just tight black boxers. His cock made a bulge.

Daddy said, "Its mouth and cunt are at a good height for fucking."

"Yes," Master said thoughtfully. Maybe he was trying to decide which end to fuck first. Pipit held still and waited, pulse racing.

Finally Master came around to her head and pulled himself out. He was fully erect, but neither long nor thick. The head of his cock was oversized and purplish, like an exotic mushroom. He held it in his hand and said, "Open up, cunt."

She opened her mouth, and he thrust in. This was one of the best moments of this kind of fuck, when a cock first penetrated her. Huge emotions lit up her mind, so complex: shame, arousal, terror, revulsion, desperate longing all tangled up together, all overwhelming. Adrenalin surged through her body: she wanted to run away and hide, but she couldn't move. She wanted to scream, but Master was already shoving as deep into her as his little cock would go, and she could make only strangled moans.

He held the frame with two hands and thrust hard so her nose smashed into the shiny black cloth of his boxers. She hummed, stuck her tongue out, tickling his balls, and let this strange cock fill her up - so warm and alive, pulsing with his lust. She let her mouth fill with saliva and overflow.

Daddy said, "It's a good cocksucker." She took her leather pants off, went to the closet, and came back with a metal butt plug, a dildo, and a bottle of lubricant. She lubricated Pipit's ass and pushed the cold butt plug in roughly and painfully; but her pussy was already wet, and the dildo slid in easily. Pipit heard Daddy's gasps and guessed that she was masturbating while she fucked her with the dildo. Pipit was glad: she loved it when Daddy was wet and excited because of her. She thought about the few times Master Christopher had joined in while a friend fucked her, the intensity of having two cocks in her, so hot and slutty . . . this was like that.

Master pulled his cock out, and Daddy pulled out the dildo. Pipit wondered if they were going to trade places, but Daddy came to her front, spread her own legs, and eased the dildo into herself. Pipit watched it slowly disappear between Daddy's big pink folds, hoping she'd get to suck it with Daddy's wet on it.

Then she felt Master's fingers touch her stomach lightly; with his other hand he touched her side.

Her body twitched violently. "No!" she cried, suddenly realizing what was going on.

"It's ticklish," Master laughed. He tickled her stomach with both hands, then her sides, till she was giggling uncontrollably and trying to wriggle away - those parts of her that she could move - laughing "No! Please!"

"Oh, yeah," Daddy sighed, fucking herself with the dildo. "Make the cunt scream."

This wasn't funny - her laughter was a hysterical screech. Master laughed too, a sadistic chuckle, as she thrashed in the stocks and screamed while Daddy worked her pussy just inches away. There was no escape, no matter how much she wriggled and thrashed. 

He stopped, slid two fingers into her pussy, and fucked her. Daddy pulled the dildo out of herself and put it in Pipit's mouth, and she sucked gratefully, savoring Daddy's strong cunty taste, so familiar and comforting. She was relieved to be back to doing something that seemed safe and normal.

But her relief lasted only a minute. Master took his fingers out of her pussy, Daddy took away the dildo, and Master went on tickling her. His fingers explored her body, looking for more ticklish places - the insides of her thighs, her back, behind her knees, her neck - and it seemed that every inch of her was sensitive.

They paused again. Daddy gave her the dildo and Master finger-fucked her, but her pleasure was all too brief. Soon Master was tickling her again, and by the time he stopped for good, her laughter was torture and her body was weak, her knees wobbly.

Daddy let Pipit suck the dildo again. She gazed into Daddy's face and tried to read her expression, but she couldn't. Then she felt a sharp spank on her bottom, and she gasped around the dildo, knowing that a spanking was coming, and then, probably, a paddling or a caning.

Daddy pulled the dildo out of her and fucked herself with it again as Master said, "Little cunt needs its ass warmed," and Pipit cried, "No, Master, please, I'll be good!" He ignored her, as she knew he would: he gave her five hard spanks.

Master had brought his own paddle, one with a slit in it, and it burned. Pipit tried to concentrate on Daddy and her dildo, the sight of it sliding into her big pussy, the ripeness of Daddy's flavor on it when she let her suck it. Daddy jammed the dildo into her throat each time the paddle came down, making her gag and drool. The slap of the paddle echoed in the room together with her own sloppy gargling noises.

Master paused, and Daddy said, "Fuck the cunt." Master put on a condom, stood behind Pipit, and pushed into her pussy. This had always been a special moment in Christopher's dungeon - the moment when she couldn't pretend it was just play anymore, what she was doing. She was getting fucked, she was a slut, and shame surged inside her, making her pussy even hotter and wetter.

It was hard work for this fat Master to fuck her standing up; he gasped and panted as he labored, Daddy still fucking Pipit's mouth with the dildo, till Pipit was sure he'd come soon.

Daddy pulled the dildo out and dropped it on the floor. She stood by Pipit's ass, spread her cheeks, and pulled out the butt plug.

"Fuck its ass, Master Jason," she said. She pushed Pipit's ass down, making her bend her knees so Master could reach her.

Pipit whined and squirmed as Master pushed into her ass: there was still lubricant in it, but not enough to keep it from hurting bad. Tears ran down her cheeks and she wished she had Daddy's dildo back, but Daddy was still behind her, spreading her wide for Master, murmuring, "Fuck yeah, nail that ass," mesmerized by the sight of his cock forcing its way into her - Daddy had a thing about asses.

It hurt less once Master was deep inside, fucking her rhythmically with long strokes. She made fists to help ease the pain as Daddy chanted "Yeah, fuck it." Master fucked her a long time - she couldn't tell how long, it seemed hours - before she sensed the instinct taking over his body, his breaths coming rougher, his thrusts hard and involuntary.

"Come in its fucking mouth," Daddy said.

Pipit whined, but it was the longing in her making the noise: not longing for a mouthful of cum but for that last spasm of shame that would complete her devastation.

Master rushed around the stocks to her head, tearing off the condom - Daddy spun around, seized Pipit's head, and held it for him - and he thrust in, knuckles white on the frame, body spasming, deep, deep in her, till he groaned and his cock spurted, filling her mouth up with warm, thick goo.




Pipit Ch. 04



Spent, he stepped away and looked at her face, waiting. She swallowed his cum. She always swallowed the cum.

They didn't speak to her, but left her in the stocks while they dressed. It was all right: she didn't want them to care about her. They left the room, and Daddy came back a few minutes later and released her.

"Come get a hug from Daddy," she said. She led Pipit to the mat, where she sat down, held her in her arms, and rocked her.

She said, "You did good, babycunt."

But Pipit pressed her face into Daddy's big breasts and cried, and the more Daddy petted her and tried to comfort her, saying "that's a good babycunt, Daddy's good little girl," the harder Pipit cried, shoulders heaving, hardly able to catch a breath.

She tried to gasp out the words she needed to say. "I'm sor . . . I need . . . please, Daddy."

Daddy lifted her so she could look into her face and said, "What is it, babycunt?"

"I'm a . . . I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry . . . I need . . ." Pipit collapsed against Daddy again.

Daddy said "Fuck!" under her breath, wonder in her voice. She lifted Pipit up again, by her braid this time, and said, "Look at me, babycunt." Pipit looked. Daddy's face was blurry through the tears, but she could tell her features were hard now, and her bright red lips were grinning.

In a low growl, Daddy said, "You've been a very bad babycunt, haven't you?"

Pipit sniffled and nodded.

"You're a nasty fucking butt-slut," said Daddy. "A dirty little cunt that fucks anything that moves, if there's money in it. Even a fat stupid asshole with a tiny dick like that pathetic fucking Jason."

Pipit flung herself face down into Daddy's lap and sobbed. Yes, that was true. She'd fuck anything. She hated herself.

"Come to the table, babycunt," Daddy said. Towing her by the braid, she led her to the narrow table and made her lie on her back, legs spread wide. She tied her just above the knees to D-rings at the table's edge: her legs dangled over the sides. She tied her wrists together above her head and lashed them down.

"Wait here, slut," she said. "Don't fucking go anywhere." She left and returned a couple minutes later with a sharp knife and a little plastic tub with a lid.

Daddy teased the point of the knife with her fingertip as Pipit watched with frightened eyes.

"Why are you a slut, babycunt?" she asked. "It isn't that you've gotta have a cock in your cunt, is it? It's not that at all."

Pipit's throat felt full and she couldn't talk. She closed her eyes tight and shook her head.

"It's the feeling you're after - what you're feeling right now. You're an emotional masochist."

Pipit sobbed and turned her head away. "I'm s-s-s . . ."

"You've never sold your cunt for money before, have you? You've been a good little cunt till today. I'll bet you feel worse than you've ever felt before in your life. Isn't that right, babycunt?"

The enormity of what she'd done crashed in on her again. She wanted so much to run and hide, but she was naked, tied down, all her shame exposed to Daddy's gaze. "I'm s-s-sorry, D-Daddy," she whimpered.

"And you need me to punish you for being a filthy butt-fuck whore."

Pipit squirmed. Her pussy was so wet, and she was crying so hard, gasping for breath, that she couldn't force out her desperate apology.

"Fuck," said Daddy. "This is your thing. Not being paddled in the stocks or fucking that fat asshole, but getting punished afterwards. I should have fucking known."

Pipit was puddling on the table, she was so turned on.

Daddy took the lid off the plastic tub and took out a jalapeno pepper. "I was thinking of making some Mexican," she said, "but, well, maybe another day." She sliced the pepper in half, opened up Pipit's pussy with two fingers, and rubbed the cut surface of one half of the pepper over her clit and hood. She put the pepper back in the tub. Then she said, "What the fuck," took the pepper out again, and rubbed it all around the inside of her slit. She dropped the pepper on the table and pushed the fingers she'd been handling it with into Pipit's vagina.

Within a few seconds, Pipit's pussy started to feel warm. The sensation was pleasurable, and she sighed and stirred a bit. Then her pussy got hot.

Then she screamed.

"No, Daddy! Make it stop, Daddy!" Pipit wailed.

"Can't stop it, babycunt," said Daddy calmly.

"Help, Daddy, I can't stand it!"

Pipit thrashed on the table. If only she could squirm away, maybe she could leave the horrible burning behind, but she was tied down.

Daddy studied her with interest. "Maybe we could try some ice," she said.

"Please, Daddy," Pipit begged. Cold sounded like just the thing.

Daddy shrugged and ambled out of the room. Pipit squirmed on the table till Daddy came back with a bowl containing a few ice cubes.

"Better make sure you can handle this," said Daddy, and pushed an ice cube into her crack, pressing it hard against her anus.

The ice felt good for a few seconds, but then the cold burned, and Pipit cried, "No, Daddy, please!"

Daddy said, "But I'm having fun, babycunt, and you've got to have your punishment." The ice cube had gotten slick from melting, and Daddy pushed it into Pipit's anus.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I won't be a whore anymore. I promise!"

Pipit strained and expelled the ice cube, but Daddy pushed it in again.

"Fucking liar! Now that you've had a taste of whoring, you'll always be a whore, and you fucking know it. Keep the fucking ice cube in."

Pipit knew it was true. The shame of fucking that man for money was bigger than the shame of fucking the man for a bed; it was way bigger than the shame of fucking Christopher's friends. She'd never felt such intense emotions, such misery, such longing for a Dominant to wash away all her filth in a torrent of agony.

Daddy took a half of the jalapeno from the plastic tub. Pipit thought about safewording when she saw it, even recited the word in her head ("Red! Red!") but decided not to. She might die of the punishment, but she'd surely die of shame without it. She'd never needed pain and humiliation so much.

So by the time Daddy was spreading her ass cheeks and rubbing her anus with the pepper, she was longing for the pain she knew was coming. And in a minute her pain was doubled, the burning in her ass and pussy nearly unbearable, and she howled and howled.

"Daddy's butt-fuck whore want some ice?" Daddy said, grinning, and Pipit said, "Yes, Daddy, please."

Daddy took an ice cube from the bowl and pressed it hard against her clit. It eased the pain for a few seconds, but then the ice burned, making it all worse, and she cried, "No, Daddy!"

"But it's cold, babycunt, good for the burning."

"No, Daddy, it burns, take it away."

But Daddy slid the ice up and down her slit, torturing her with cold and hot, till she was bucking on the table and her words had become meaningless syllables, "Nuh, nuh, duh, muh."

Finally Daddy put the ice back in the bowl, and the pain eased a little. Daddy went to the closet and came back with a vibrator. Pipit watched, wide eyed, as she rubbed it with the jalapeno.

Daddy held the vibrator to her clit. Soon Pipit was shrieking again, louder than ever.

"What are you?" Daddy said, jamming the vibrator against her clit.

"I'm a whore!" Pipit cried.

"Whose whore are you?"

"I'm Daddy's whore!"

"Will you always be a butt-fuck whore when Daddy tells you?"

"Yes!" Pipit wept. "I'll always whore for Daddy!"

"Why is that, babycunt?"

"Because I love Daddy," she sobbed.

Daddy turned off the vibrator. She said, "Daddy loves babycunt, too. Daddy loves her sweet butt-fuck whore."

She took away the ice and the jalapeno and came back with a bowl of milk and a washcloth. She bathed Pipit's pussy and anus with the milk and used her fingers to push it gently into her vagina. The pain began to subside.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Pipit whispered.

"It's okay," Daddy answered in a softer voice than Pipit had ever heard her use. "Daddy's here. Daddy'll take care of her babycunt." Pipit believed her absolutely at that moment, and knew what she herself was - she was Daddy's whore, Daddy's butt-slut, Daddy's babycunt. Everything she was belonged to Daddy, and she was nothing without Daddy.

Daddy was still wearing her leather top. She took it off, climbed on top of babycunt, and offered her one of her big nipples. Babycunt sucked greedily, like an infant, and Daddy's nipple swelled, making babycunt happy and proud. Then Daddy let her suck the other nipple. Such heaven! Daddy's breasts made babycunt feel safe and loved.

When both her nipples were hard, Daddy mounted babycunt's head, facing her feet, and scrubbed her wet cunt on her mouth. Babycunt was so happy Daddy's cunt was wet, labia and clit puffy - her suffering and humiliation had aroused Daddy and made her want to fuck her little girl.

Daddy leaned back and let babycunt lick her ass. Babycunt loved her brown asshole, the smooth pale skin of her crack. Her mouth watered with love for Daddy and she bathed it all with her tongue, and when Daddy made her asshole gape, babycunt was so happy to kiss her and wet her inside, making her sigh, "Oh, fuck!"

And when Daddy's ass was all wet, crack and anus, she leaned forward, far forward, so her big breasts pressed into babycunt's belly, and gave babycunt another special kiss. Daddy didn't tease her this time, but covered her cunt with her mouth and softly ran her tongue up and down her slit while babycunt bathed her mouth and chin in Daddy's vast wetness, wanting to give her an orgasm, wanting to make it good for Daddy.

Babycunt strained at her bonds, wishing she could fling her arms around Daddy's waist. Oh, if she could, she'd never let Daddy go; she'd always be here, face sunk in Daddy's wide cunt, smelling and tasting her, Daddy's mouth warming her, tongue stimulating her, Daddy taking care of her.

Daddy humped babycunt's face and cried "Ah! Ah! Ah!" into her cunt, and when her orgasm had passed, Daddy still was licking babycunt, licking her clit harder, then sucking. Babycunt's flesh was still raw, Daddy was loving, it was painful, and she cried with her joy of Daddy, her cunt still there, her mouth . . . and finally babycunt came with Daddy's kiss, Daddy's special gift. She came and came, helpless under Daddy's hot body, and knew Daddy loved her.

Daddy untied babycunt and led her to the bathroom, where she sat with her while she took a bath. Pipit studied Daddy - lined face, long nose, red lipstick a little smeared, dark eyes, generous body. Daddy was so beautiful. She understood her babycunt's needs so well, and her punishment had been so what she needed.

That night at Mistress Shigemi's, Pipit had the man with the wax and one of Neko's regulars, who made her bottom very pink and arranged with Daddy to pay a call on them the very next afternoon so he could fuck Pipit.

When they got home that night and Pipit closed the apartment door behind them, Daddy hauled her to her bedroom and flung her on the bed.

"Babycunt got another fucking date," Daddy hissed in her face. "Dirty skank gonna get fucked again. Why're you gonna do that?"

"For Daddy," Pipit whispered, and Daddy fucked her there on her very own bed - let her babycunt eat her pussy and ass, and then tribbed with her. Daddy didn't let Pipit come, but she did give her another treat that night.

Daddy dragged the pet cage into her own room and let Pipit sleep there, cuffed and locked up. It made Pipit feel safe, being so close to Daddy and locked into her cage. She wondered what her fuck would be like tomorrow and how Daddy would punish her. She wished she could touch herself, but tried not to dwell on it. Daddy knew what was best for her.

She lay awake for a long time listening to Daddy's breathing, which soon became regular and heavy, and then snoring.

* * *

Andrew, too, lay awake. Emily slept peacefully beside him and Amanda on a pallet on the floor. They had tried to get Amanda to sleep in the other bedroom, but she didn't sleep well so far from Emily. Besides, the bed didn't agree with her: she preferred the floor.

Andrew knew that one of Emily's Masters had made her sleep on the floor while with the last one she'd slept in a cage. He wanted to buy a cage for her and Amanda, but only for play. He liked having Emily in his bed. Sometimes he sensed that she and Amanda wanted to sleep together, and then he sent them off to the other bedroom; but he preferred to have Emily with him.

Now he listened to Emily's breathing and remembered his afternoon with Ai and Asoko. He'd never had sex with a woman as old as Asoko: he'd found her fascinating and had explored her body minutely, intrigued and excited by the effects of time and gravity on her face, breasts, belly, and ass. He and Ai had played with her together, making her service them both: on elbows and knees, she'd performed cunnilingus on Ai while Andrew fucked her behind, enjoying the look of her plump back and dimpled ass.

He wondered if it was wrong, his desiring Asoko the way he had that afternoon though he didn't really care for her. And was he bad, feeling driven to fuck other women when this one beside him was all he really wanted?

He thought about Mistress Ai, her beautiful body with the dragon tattoo, her generosity, the ease with which she commanded everyone around her. Tomorrow he'd report to her at ten, and at noon he'd become her slave. He wondered what tasks she'd set him.

* * *

Neko lay on her stomach, her client fucking her hard from behind, one hand on the small of her back, the other in her hair. She usually liked the way her clients fucked her, standing up or pounding down into her, using their hands to control her body: she could pretend she was entirely at their mercy and had no choice but to submit to them.

But tonight she didn't pay a lot of attention to what was happening: her mind kept going back to the things she'd lost. Who could have hated her so much that they wanted to get her fired that way? She let her body go through the motions. Her client couldn't tell she wasn't paying attention, but responded to her with his usual enthusiasm.

When he'd done the things he liked to do with her body, Neko pulled on a bathrobe and saw him to the door, where she let him kiss her. She went to the bathroom and drew a deep bath, throwing some bath salts into the stream of water. She lit a candle, turned off the light, and soaked, letting the warm water soothe the welts where her client had caned her. Every now and then she reached between her legs and gave her clitoris a little tap or rub to keep herself in a pleasant state of near-arousal.

Neko was a shy girl, a classic wallflower with looks and a manner that had always made it easy for her to become almost invisible to the people around her. Other women paid little attention to her. The only men who ever seemed to notice her were dominant types who could sense in her the will to submit - to be taken, managed, controlled, fucked, and hurt - above all, hurt.

In high school and college she'd gotten into a series of abusive relationships. Then she'd discovered BDSM, which she'd instantly loved for its emphasis on safety. BDSM gave her a space in which she could get what she needed from a relationship without the abuse. Domineering men and women who lost their tempers and beat up their submissives weren't Dominants at all in the world of kink: they were just shitheads. Even a primitive like that crazy Mistress Raquel respected limits and safewords and played by the rules, more or less.

What BDSM hadn't given Neko was a relationship - at least, not a long-term one. But she'd been surprised how much happiness she'd found working at Mistress Shigemi's. The relationships she'd formed there were short-term and businesslike, but her clients had loved her, after a fashion - and with the favored few she'd allowed to visit her at home, she liked to think that her relationships had been deeper somehow, and more satisfying, if still businesslike.

She'd been friendly with the other women who worked at Mistress Shigemi's, but she didn't have any friends - not the kind you go out with for walks, coffee, and meals. She'd really liked Pipit, though, and had been sure they were going to become good friends. She'd liked sex with her, too. She'd only had sex with a few women before - casual flings with Dommes. Pipit couldn't meet her deeper, darker needs, of course, but something about her had drawn Neko strongly. Perhaps it was Neko's sense that, even though Pipit didn't call herself a masochist, her need for pain - not physical pain, maybe, but something else - was as profound as Neko's own. She could feel the need in Pipit when she kissed her, and a certainty that they were kindred souls. Neko knew she could trust Pipit completely.

Well, she wouldn't let go of her new friend, not without a fight. She knew a couple of the girls at Mistress Shigemi's well enough to have their numbers in her phone: she'd call one of them, find out where Pipit had gone, and get in touch with her.

The water in the tub was starting to get cool. Neko stood up, got the hand-held shower head, and sat down again. She turned it on and held it under the water just an inch or two from her pussy. She closed her eyes, and memories came to her of Pipit's kind face and the clean and good taste of her mouth and pussy.

It didn't take long for the warm spray to give Neko a gentle orgasm.



Pipit Ch. 05



Author's note: Here's Chapter 5 of "Pipit," the story of a submissive struggling to make her way in the world. Cast out and rejected by her former Masters, she's been hired as a professional submissive under the name Tosatsu - but she's been moonlighting as a prostitute, with her new Domme Raquel ("Daddy") as her pimp. Meanwhile, Andrew, the Master of Pipit's arch-rival Emily, has been having self-doubts. The wise Mistress Ai has suggested to him that it may help to spend twenty-four hours as a slave in her household. Tags: Slave, Punishment, Bondage, Flogging, Edging, Straight sex, Oral Sex, Facesitting.

*****

Chapter 5. Slave for a day

Andrew dipped into the basin and sponged the peroxide solution onto a single leather strand of the cat. Inkei had explained that this was important, since traces of skin or body fluids on the cat could harbor bacteria. So Andrew's job this afternoon was to disinfect the leather toys with peroxide and then clean, soften, and polish them with saddle soap.

This was boring, to say the least. Even though he'd set Emily and Amanda to all kinds of cleaning tasks, somehow it had never sunk in how much drudgery consensual slavery involved. He wondered if anyone ever safeworded while cleaning a toilet or sorting laundry.

He'd gotten to Mistress Ai's place at ten in the morning, as they'd agreed, so they could talk and plan.

"Before we begin," Ai had said, "you need to understand a bit more of what you're getting into, and I need to get some idea of your limits. As you know, all of my slaves go naked. I require the men to shave their bodies, but I won't ask you to do that. My slaves serve both as household servants and as objects of play for me and my friends. They also serve my sexual needs. As Shita is out of town for an academic conference, I propose that you take over his domestic duties, cleaning in the playroom and doing the laundry. I require clean sheets on all the beds every day."

"Okay," said Andrew.

"You won't begin until noon," said Ai, "but starting then you will address me as Mistress Ai. I believe . . . I will call you Gakusha."

"Yes. Okay."

"As to play activities, it would rather obviously be right for you to play the way Emily does. Is there anything she does that you don't believe you can do?"

"No, I don't think so," said Andrew.

"We'll see," said Ai. "Her kind of play is not for the faint of heart. Would you like to use her safeword?"

"Yes, Mistress," said Andrew, already starting to think a little like a slave. Emily's safeword was satis - Latin for "enough." He'd given it to her when they'd been college students together.

"Limits," said Ai. "You probably haven't thought about them."

"No, Mistress Ai."

"Why don't you use Emily's, then? She rules out scat and all kinds of edge play, right? Since I don't favor those things anyway, it doesn't make any difference to me."

"Emily's limits will be fine, Mistress Ai," said Andrew.

"My family is strictly hierarchical," said Ai. "I am at the top of the hierarchy, the slaves at the bottom. But there is a hierarchy among the slaves, too, as there is in any group of people: there are no equals. Inkei! Asoko!"

The two slaves appeared and stood together in front of the sofa on which Ai and Andrew were sitting.

"Only these two slaves are with me today," said Mistress Ai. "Inkei is my head slave. He is at the top of my slave hierarchy. He has great dignity, and yet he never forgets his place. Asoko is near the bottom of the hierarchy when all the slaves are here, but today she is second after Inkei. Being new, you will be at the bottom of the hierarchy."

"What does the hierarchy of slaves mean in practical terms, Mistress?"

"It shows up mostly in the way I treat them. Slaves do not give each other orders, except to convey my wishes; but I'm most likely to ask Inkei to pass on my wishes to the others and oversee their work. Inkei is my pet as well. You, on the other hand, will not be given any authority, and we may sometimes be harsh with you, to help you remember your place."

An invisible hand seemed to be squeezing Andrew's stomach.

"Remember, however," Ai continued, "that every position in the hierarchy is an honorable one. To obey well when you're a slave is as worthy a thing as to give good commands when you're a Master."

The invisible hand relaxed its grip a little, but Andrew still suspected that the next day wasn't going to be quite the romp he'd expected.

It was a little after eleven when they ran out of things to talk about, and Mistress Ai ordered Asoko to bring them a light lunch and get something for herself and Inkei while about it. "That way," she said, "you won't have to work on lunch preparation or cleanup, but can go straight to your afternoon tasks."

It took only a few minutes for Asoko to bring them sandwiches, which they ate on the sofa, making light conversation. At twelve o'clock, Mistress Ai said, "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Mistress Ai," said Andrew, wondering if he was actually ready.

"Then take your clothes off, Gakusha."

Andrew stood and undressed, folding each article of clothing neatly and laying it on the coffee table.

When he was naked, Mistress Ai called, "Asoko!"

The slave appeared silently.

Mistress Ai said, "Bring me a plain black collar."

A minute later, Mistress Ai was fastening the collar around his neck, and even though she did so without ceremony, the moment was so erotically charged that his cock stiffened. His face was hot, and he was sure he'd turned beet red.

Mistress Ai paid no attention to either his cock or his complexion, but instead turned him over to Inkei, who took him to the playroom and showed him how to clean the leather toys.

And now he was disinfecting each individual strand of this cat. When he'd finished the last one, he started with the saddle soap. He had to rub the soap in well, let it stand for a few minutes, and then sponge it off.

While he was in the middle of this task, Mistress Ai came in with Inkei and watched silently.

After a minute she said, "You're making a mess on the floor, Gakusha."

Feeling a little irritable, Andrew looked down and saw that the floor around him was spotted with dirty water.

"I'll take care of it," he said.

Mistress Ai said, "He isn't getting off to a promising start, Inkei. He's already forgotten how to address his Mistress."

Andrew flushed red again. "I'm sorry, Mistress Ai. I meant to say I'll take care of it, Mistress Ai."

"Apology accepted," she said. "But with new slaves, it is usually wise to hand out forgiveness along with an aide à la mémoire. This saves one tedious repetition. Don't you agree, Inkei?"

"That is what you did with me when I was a new slave, Mistress Ai."

"And did you profit by it?"

"I'm sure I did, Mistress Ai."

"Do you remember the first occasion I punished you, Inkei?"

"I do, Mistress Ai."

"What had you done, and what was the punishment?"

"I had set the table improperly, Mistress Ai, forgetting that some people prefer chopsticks to knives and forks. The punishment was figging."

"Yes, I remember now. A ginger-root butt plug is painful."

"Yes, Mistress, it was," said Inkei with a smile.

It didn't sound so dreadful to Andrew, but he made a mental note of it.

"I think that Gakusha should have one of Emily's favorite punishments," said Mistress Ai, "though of course with no more intensity than she likes. Come to the cross."

Andrew's legs felt a little wobbly as he walked to the cross. Yet it seemed odd, now that he thought of it, that he'd never been whipped, caned, or even spanked, and yet he'd often done those things to the woman he loved. With that thought he became eager for his punishment, and he got control of his nerves.

Mistress Ai preferred rope to cuffs; she was in fact an expert in Shibari, the Japanese art of knot-tying. She tied him to the cross with his back to the room. As she worked, Andrew was aware of Asoko slipping in and taking a seat along the wall.

Mistress's voice was so soft and musical that you wouldn't think her capable of any kind of violence. She said, "We start with light blows. These release endorphins and prepare the skin for what comes after."

Inkei handed her a cat of thin leather thongs, and she gave his bottom a blow as gentle as a caress. Andrew thought a caress like this from Mistress Ai was more than a little sexy, and his cock stirred without quite getting hard. She continued in the same way for a few minutes, and then started to make the blows heavier, increasing the intensity so gradually that he was unaware of it at first.

"Does this arouse you?" she asked.

"A little, Mistress Ai," Andrew said.

She brought the whip up between his legs, so the strands brushed the insides of his thighs and the tips stung just behind his balls.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, and felt a surge of arousal, which became more intense as she whipped him between the legs several more times before returning to his bottom, where she took up where she'd left off.

The whip was beginning to sting now. The whipping between his legs, though not harsh, had reminded him how naked and vulnerable he was, and his cock was now erect.

Mistress Ai stopped the whipping, came to Andrew, and stood excitingly close to him. She stroked his bottom with her fingers and said, "How is it so far, Gakusha? Is it painful yet?"

"It stings a little, Mistress Ai, but I wouldn't call it painful."

"Good. That was the warm-up. Soon we'll begin the punishment."

She didn't start right away, but continued to stroke his bottom for a few more minutes. Her fingers felt cool, but he was getting hotter and more aroused. It was embarrassing that he couldn't control his almost painfully stiff cock, which strained uselessly towards the wall.

She stepped back then, and whipped him just a little harder than she'd done before, but that little increment made the difference between a mild, pleasurable sting and real pain. Andrew's body tensed, his heart beat faster and harder, and it was suddenly hard to get enough air. He recognized the sensations: adrenalin was flooding into his bloodstream, energy pouring into his body. But he'd committed to this, let himself be tied to the cross - and anyway, as his pain grew his arousal became greater, huge really. What he felt wasn't quite pleasure, but a promise of pleasure so enormous that the fulfillment of it could tear him apart.

Mistress Ai paused to flog him lightly between the legs again and pet his bottom. After a few minutes Inkei handed her a different whip. She backed up, and when she swung the whip again it was like a hard kick to his backside - aimed higher, it would have knocked the wind out of him.

Andrew was losing track of the room around him. His mind seemed to be floating in a bright fog of pleasure and arousal, and yet his body thrummed with panicky energy, yearning to escape this beating Mistress was giving him.

She shifted her stance, and now the whip stung again, slashing, burning stripes of pain like hot irons, or sitting on a stove; it brought him out of his trance, but soon he was slipping away again. The pain seemed a space he inhabited, a warm, loving place where he could live forever. . . .

"That's enough," said Mistress Ai, and handed the whip to Inkei. She came to Andrew and untied him. He wasn't sure he could stand, but Inkei helped him down from the cross and walked him to a mat where Mistress Ai was kneeling, holding a bottle - some kind of lotion, he thought. Inkei lay him there on his stomach, and Mistress gently applied the lotion to his sore bottom.

"How do you feel, Gakusha?" she asked.

"Strange, Mistress Ai."

"Floaty? You were at peace, and yet your body was humming with energy? You wanted more, and yet you wanted to escape too?"

"Yes, Mistress Ai."

"You had a little taste of subspace. Perhaps you have the makings of a good submissive. Inkei, help him turn over."

Inkei turned him onto his back so his head was in Mistress's lap. She combed his hair with her fingers: he thought nothing could ever feel so good.

She lay him on the floor, bent over him, and kissed him - not a passionate kiss, but long and generous - a gift. She reached for his cock and stroked it - she seemed to be pleasing herself with her possession of it, and his pleasure was incidental. His cock was uncomfortably hard, his body too aroused. Somehow he knew she wasn't going to let him come this way.

She stopped kissing him. Still bent over him and stroking his cock, she said, "That's what Emily wants and needs. I wonder what you want."

Andrew couldn't answer that; he thought she probably didn't want an answer. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations she was giving him: her soft hand, her warmth, the faint fragrance of her, which he didn't recognize despite all the time he'd spent working in the Saks perfume department.

"Come here, Asoko," said Mistress Ai. Asoko came and knelt by Andrew, opposite her mistress.

"Give Gakusha pleasure," said Mistress Ai.

"Yes, Mistress Ai," said Asoko, and went down on him, simply and without ceremony, a slave doing her duty. From her behavior before, he suspected that she felt something for him - not love, necessarily, but simple physical desire - and knowing that made her practical manner all the more compelling.

"Asoko is an excellent fellatrix," said Mistress Ai.

She was right: The sensations Asoko was giving Andrew were miraculous.

"She's not the slightest bit masochistic," said Mistress Ai. "She'll accept a whipping if she has to, but she's a sex slave: her great ambition is to belong to a Master or Mistress who will tax both her strength and her sexual abilities to their limits. Don't come till I give you permission."

Andrew had felt himself approaching the edge, and now he got his body under control with difficulty by silently reciting the Aeneid. He'd gotten as far as Tantaene animis caelestibus irae when Mistress Ai spoke again.

"It is a noble desire," she said, "to live only for the pleasure of others. The Dominant's ambition is not so different, though, being based on a recognition that, just as one confers power by accepting the power that a submissive surrenders, so one can give pleasure by accepting it. The person who simply takes pleasure from others is no Dominant: rather, the Dominant accepts pleasure with a generous spirit. Give Asoko the gift of enjoying the pleasure she's offering you."

Andrew let himself pay attention to Asoko's cocksucking, the astonishing things she was doing to his nervous system, but soon he was in danger of coming again. Urbs antiqua fuit, Tyrii tenuere coloni, he thought to himself, and when he felt some control return to him, he let himself feel what Asoko was doing to him again. In this way he edged himself for a long time, until his balls ached and his exhausted body felt near collapse.

Finally Mistress Ai said, "You may come now, Gakusha," and he stopped his recitation (Aeneas and his crew were setting out from Sicily) and gave his attention entirely to Asoko. He raised his head and looked at her, bent to her task with a look of great concentration on her pleasant round face, her pretty lips closed sensuously around the head of him, which disappeared into her so slowly, followed by - Oh! - the rest of him, down to the pubic hair. She raised her eyes to him, and he could see there her calm desire - a generous desire that he should accept the pleasure she was offering, accept her as pleasure-giver. As longing to give her that acceptance swept through him, lifting his spirit, energy surged into his body and he came, a long, intense orgasm that left him trembling and weak.

Asoko sat up and smiled at him, and Andrew smiled back. He glanced at a clock on the wall: it was almost four-thirty. They'd begun his punishment a few minutes after two.

"I think you should have a nap," said Mistress Ai. "Inkei will show you where you can sleep."

Inkei led Andrew to a small room where several thin futons were laid out on the floor. "This is the slave quarters," he said. He pointed to one of the futons and said, "You may use that one." It had a pillow, and a folded sheet lay on top of it. Andrew shook out the sheet, lay down under it, and soon fell asleep.

Inkei came to get him an hour later. "Come," he said, "we have a lot to do." He let him brush his teeth and then took him to the kitchen. "Mistress is having a guest for dinner tonight," he said. "We will cook and serve the dinner, and afterwards they'll play with us if they want."

Inkei was chef for the dinner and barked orders at Asoko and Andrew, who fetched things for him, cut up vegetables, set the table, and scurried around the apartment on errands. As they worked, Andrew learned from Inkei and Asoko that Mistress Ai entertained several times a week. She planned only about half of her dinners and luncheons more than a day in advance; the other half she gave impulsively, taking both her guests and her slaves by surprise. The slaves had learned that they had to be prepared for anything, and they kept the kitchen well stocked and the good china in readiness.

On this occasion, Mistress Ai had informed Inkei about the dinner while Andrew was napping. The table would be set for two, the guest would arrive at six, and dinner would be served at seven.

When the bell rang at six, Andrew was sent to the door. He felt a little nervous answering the door naked - wasn't there a risk it was someone else? - but he did what he had to do.

There were two people instead of one at the door. Standing in front was a strongly built middle-aged woman with black hair and heavy makeup. She wore a red sleeveless dress that revealed, on her right arm, a tattoo of a skull with flesh hanging off it in tatters, and she carried a gym bag. Behind her stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman of about Andrew's age. She gave him a strange look - was it astonishment? - and then looked at the floor.

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to say something, but it turned out not to matter, because the older woman pushed past him with an impatient air, and the young woman followed, giving him an apologetic smile. If something about him (his nakedness?) had surprised her, she was over it now.

Andrew followed them into the living room, where the mystery of the extra woman was quickly cleared up. Mistress Ai hugged the older woman and said, "Thanks for coming on such short notice, Raquel. I didn't know you were bringing your roommate."

"Thought you wouldn't mind," said Raquel. "She says she's your slave when she's here."

Mistress Ai said, "That's true. Take your clothes off, Tosatsu."

She called for Inkei and Asoko. When they presented themselves in the doorway, she said, "Tosatsu will resume her position as household slave for the evening. Her rank will be below Gakusha. Employ her as you see fit, Inkei."

Meanwhile Tosatsu was stripping. Her body was as beautiful as her face. She was small and exquisitely proportioned; her skin seemed almost to glow with health. Andrew looked away, afraid of getting an erection in front of all these people. Raquel was scowling, as if she didn't approve of these goings on.

Mistress Ai said, "The slaves may return to the kitchen now." Andrew started to follow the other three towards the kitchen, but Raquel stepped in front of him and said, "Wait a minute, you." He stopped.

She said, "What's this one, Ai? I haven't seen him before."

Ai said, "This is Gakusha. He's with me for just one day, training to be a Dominant."

Raquel said, "He doesn't look like a Dominant. He looks like a fucking wimp."

Ai smiled at Andrew and said, "Raquel has never met a man she considered a true Dominant."

"Hasn't been one since Genghis Khan," said Raquel.




Pipit Ch. 05



"Not George Patton?" Mistress Ai asked. "I thought you admired Patton."

"Fucking candy-ass," said Raquel. "It's impossible to be a Dominant without a cunt. Genghis Khan had one. Patton didn't."

Mistress Ai said, "Raquel believes Genghis Khan was a hermaphrodite."

"Fuckin' A," said Raquel. "Genghis was both a man and a woman. Had to have both a cock and a cunt to do what she did."

Raquel turned back to Andrew and said, "He's cute, though." She flicked his cock with her middle finger. "Do we get to play with him later?"

"Certainly," Mistress Ai said, "though we'll have to let him tell us what games he's willing to play."

"Sometimes I wonder why people think you're a Dominant, Ai," said Raquel. "Well, run along, Ga-whatever-the-fuck-you're-called. We'll talk later."

Andrew returned to the kitchen, where Inkei clearly thought there were too many slaves trying to be helpful and getting underfoot. "I want the three of you to go sit in the hallway, beyond the bathroom," he said, "and I'll call you when I need you."

Andrew, Asoko, and Tosatsu went to sit in the hallway. Tosatsu said to Andrew, "So you're one of Mistress Ai's slaves? I haven't seen you before."

"I'm a slave for one day. Mistress Ai is teaching me what it is to be a submissive."

Asoko said, "He's really a Dominant."

Andrew said, "I don't know if I am or not. My girlfriend and Mistress Ai say I am, but sometimes I wonder. Mistress Ai thought a day as a slave might teach me things I ought to know and give me confidence."

Asoko said, "Mistress is always right about people. She always knows what's best."

"I'm sure she does," said Tosatsu.

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Asoko said, "Tosatsu works for Mistress's business, and when she's here she gets to be Mistress's slave. But she's only been here once," she added with a sad smile.

"What's Mistress's business?" asked Andrew.

"Mistress Shigemi's House of Kink," said Tosatsu. "It's a place where men and women can go to dominate or be dominated, and it rents out playrooms for play parties and stuff. It's a cool place. I'm a professional submissive there."

"It sounds like an interesting job," said Andrew.

"It's intense sometimes," said Tosatsu. "It can be draining. But I feel really useful working there. Like people who feel they're Dominants but aren't really sure what to do? We can help them figure things out, like how to make submissives obey you, how far you can go with certain kinds of play, that kind of thing. It's really fulfilling."

Andrew wanted to know more about Mistress Shigemi's, but just then Inkei called, "Gakusha! Come pour the wine." He jumped up and ran to the kitchen.

Andrew and Asoko were in charge of serving Raquel, while Tosatsu and Inkei served Mistress Ai. Andrew thought that no two diners had ever been so attentively served. When Raquel and Mistress Ai had eaten and were relaxing with their coffee and dessert, Inkei brought out four dog bowls heaped with spaghetti in a plain red meat sauce, very different from the elegant fare they'd been serving.

Andrew had seen slaves eat during the days he and Emily had stayed with Mistress Ai, so he knew that they had to get on their hands and knees and eat without either silverware or hands, holding their asses high in the air. If either of the Dominants decided to play with their asses or genitalia while they ate, they were expected to ignore the attention as best they could and go on eating. Though Andrew had seen slaves eat this way often enough, he hadn't seen them eat spaghetti with red sauce. This choice of dish seemed calculated to humiliate.

At first Andrew tried to eat as delicately as possible, picking out strands of spaghetti with his teeth and lips, but he soon decided that he'd end the meal desperately hungry if he continued that way. Besides, the other three slaves were eating hearty, putting aside their dignity and sinking their faces into the warm mush so they could get a decent amount to eat before the Dominants called time.

Raquel said, "Those are four fine asses, Ai."

"Thank you," said Mistress Ai. "Feel free to touch."

A few seconds later Andrew felt a light pressure on his anus. From just behind him Raquel's voice said, "I like this asshole, Ai. It looks like it's never been fucked." Andrew went on eating. He was starting to like the feel of the warm, wet pasta on his face. Raquel reached under him and held his cock and balls in her hand. "Why don't you keep these locked up, Ai? I'd put a cock cage on this one in a minute."

Mistress Ai said, "I've never felt the urge to control that aspect of my slaves' behavior. I leave them free to masturbate and even have sex with each other in their spare time if they like."

"You're fucking crazy, Ai," said Raquel. She moved on to Asoko and said, "I've always liked this one. Look at this fat cunt! When are you going to let me borrow her?"

"When I'm sure you won't give her back to me broken. Which reminds me: are you treating Tosatsu all right? You're supposed to be just putting her up for a few days, not taking her over."

"Oh, she's fine," said Raquel. "We play a little, you know? But mostly we just go our separate ways. I'm helping her look for a place of her own."

Andrew was glad when dinner was over and they let the slaves go wash their faces. They took turns in the bathroom in order of rank. Andrew looked at himself in the mirror: he looked like a demented circus clown. He smiled at Tosatsu as he passed her in the doorway. She didn't look like a clown, but was beautiful even with red sauce all over the bottom half of her face.

That night, Mistress Ai sent Inkei and Asoko to the kitchen to clean up, and she and Raquel took Tosatsu and Andrew to the playroom.

Mistress Ai said, "Mistress Raquel wants to play with you, Gakusha. Is that all right?"

He didn't particularly want to be passed around like this, but everything about Mistress Raquel excited him: her crude manner, the threat that seemed implicit in her every word and movement - even her age. He nodded, and Mistress Raquel grinned a predatory grin.

Mistress Ai said, "If you want to contribute to Gakusha's education, you'll do some impact play."

Mistress Raquel said, "I'll contribute to his fucking education. I'll be a whole fucking university."

Mistress Ai helped Mistress Raquel tie Andrew so he was hanging spreadeagled in the middle of the room. Then Mistress Raquel circled him slowly.

"You got your ass whipped today," she said.

"Yes, Mistress Raquel," said Andrew.

She gave his ass a swat with her bare, open hand. It burned, and he yelped.

"Fucking candy-ass loser," Mistress Raquel muttered. "I can't pronounce the name Ai gave you. I'm gonna call you loser."

Andrew resolved not to cry out again if he could help it.

She swatted him again. It burned just as bad, and he twitched but didn't cry out.

"That's better," said Mistress Raquel, "but you're still a fucking loser."

Not far away, Mistress Ai had Tosatsu face-down on the floor and was enclosing her whole body in a network of soft rope. Andrew thought they were beautiful together, and his cock started to rise.

"Fucking hard-on keeps coming and going. Ai, you got a cock ring in your cabinet?"

"Several of them," said Mistress Ai. "Go and take your pick."

Mistress Raquel came back with a stretchy silicone cock-ring, which she slipped over him. Andrew gasped as she pulled his balls through the ring, but then felt a little tingling in his cock. He liked this.

"Gotta keep you hard, loser," she said, and gave his ass another swat.

Now Tosatsu looked a little like a fish in a net. Mistress Ai raised her till she was hanging about two feet from the floor. She gave her a little push, and she swung like a porch swing.

Mistress Raquel said, "Don't let the cunt distract you, loser," and gave him a stinging blow across his upper back with something. He looked: it was a cane. He wondered why she wasn't warming up slowly the way Mistress Ai had done this afternoon. But he didn't have time to think about this, because the blows began to come every few seconds, and he couldn't concentrate on anything but keeping control of himself so he wouldn't cry out, drawing another rebuke from this savage Domme.

After a minute she paused, came around to the front of him, and stood close. She grasped his hard cock, stroked it, and looked into his face.

"Not too bad for a fucking loser," she said. She tucked her cane under an arm and with her free hand grabbed his balls, squeezed hard, and held on. The pain was excruciating: he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and wondered how much worse this session would get.

"Look at me, loser," she said. He made himself open his eyes and look into her face. She was smiling, showing her teeth. "Don't look away," she said, and squeezed his balls tighter. He breathed hard and held her gaze. Fuck, but she was sexy in that red dress - so curvy. Red high heels, too.

She must have read his look, because she said, "Am I sexy, loser?"

Andrew said, "Yes, Mistress."

"Do you think I'm going to let you fuck me?"

"I don't know, Mistress."

"I'm not going to let you fuck me," said Mistress Raquel. "I'm going to fuck you up." She let go of his cock and balls, walked around behind him, and hit him with the cane again, harder. He couldn't suppress a cry.

Now she was caning him rhythmically, and his world seemed to be shrinking around him. Yet he was aware of Mistress Ai, gloriously naked now, sitting in a chair and holding the bound Tosatsu's face to her pussy. Every now and then she'd give her a little push, and she'd swing away and back, and her face would bump into Mistress Ai's crotch.

Andrew's back seemed on fire, and he'd just begun to think he might safeword soon when Mistress Raquel stopped, went to the cabinet for some shears, and cut him down - feet first, then hands. He felt shaky, but forced himself to hold still and look at her.

She stared at him a long time - it felt like minutes - and then said, "Fucking asshole loser," and shoved him hard so he fell backwards onto his back. She fetched her gym bag from along the wall and brought out a large black strap-on and a bottle of lubricant. She undressed and strapped on the big dildo: her breasts were so big - Andrew longed to suck her nipples.

She kicked him and said "Turn the fuck over, butt boy. I'm the gal that takes your cherry." He rolled over, his hard cock pressed between the floor and his stomach, and a few seconds later he felt her fingers smearing cool lubricant into his crack. Then there was unbearable pain, the worst yet in this violent session, as she shoved the dildo into him, stretching him too suddenly: he thought a bomb must have gone off in his crack, and he screamed.

Mistress Ai jumped up, leaving Tosatsu swinging, and said, "Hold on, Raquel." Mistress Raquel paused. Mistress Ai bent down by Andrew's head and said, "Are you all right, Gakusha? Do you need to safeword?"

But the pain of Mistress Raquel's first sudden thrust was already dying away and Andrew shook his head.

"Not yellow, Gakusha?"

"No, Mistress Ai," said Andrew.

"Very well," she said, and nodded to Mistress Raquel, who started again with a vicious thrust. It hurt, but not as bad as that first awful shock. Mistress was violent, but the pain stayed just the right side of unbearable. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and bore up till she finally pulled out of him, gave him another kick to turn him over, tore off the strap-on, and sat down heavily on his mouth.

She held him by his hair, humped him, and snarled, "Eat me, you fucking loser!" He did it as well as he could with her grinding into his face and smashing his mouth, and she must have liked it well enough, because she said, "Fuck, yeah," and humped him harder, yanking his hair so his head bumped against the floor, till finally she shouted, "Ah! Ah! Ah!" thrusting against him in powerful spasms.

Mistress Raquel climbed off him and turned to Mistress Ai, who was sitting in her chair again with Tosatsu kneeling at her feet.

"He's a fucking loser, Ai, but he was fun to play with." She nudged Andrew's erect cock with her toe. He was still wearing the cock ring, and his erection was getting a little painful. "What do you want to do about this, Ai? I don't let losers fuck me."

"I'm sure he'll figure out something," said Mistress Ai.

"We could make him fuck the cunt there," said Mistress Raquel, "whatever the fuck you call her."

"Tosatsu," said Mistress Ai. "And I don't think that would be a good idea. Do you want a nightcap?"

"Guess we'd better get home," said Mistress Raquel. "C'mon, babycunt. Get ready to go."

Mistress Ai said, "Raquel, are you sure you're not treating Tosatsu as your submissive?"

"No, no, don't worry about a thing, Ai. It's just she's got like a hundred names, and I can't fucking remember any of them. So it's, you know, just like a nickname I can remember." She said to Tosatsu and Andrew, "Go get washed up, kids."

Mistress Ai looked nervous for a moment, as if she wanted to say something but wasn't sure what - Andrew had never seen her like that - but she recovered herself and said, "Gakusha, you can take your cock ring off in the bathroom. We'll wait for you in the living room."

The bathroom was just a few feet down the hallway. Andrew said, "You first."

Tosatsu turned to him, glanced towards the playroom, then put her hands behind his neck, pulled him to her, and and kissed him, pressing her body against his. She whispered, "I wish they'd let us make love."

He whispered, "I do too."

"Come see me some time at Mistress Shigemi's," she said, and disappeared into the bathroom. Andrew pulled the cock ring off, but his erection didn't subside.

When Andrew got to the living room, everyone was dressed and saying their goodbyes. He felt odd, being the only naked person, but then remembered that he was the slave, and he was supposed to be naked.

Mistress Ai saw Tosatsu and Mistress Raquel out the door, then turned to Andrew and said, "What did you think of Mistress Raquel?"

"She was pretty rough, Mistress Ai," he said.

"Some submissives need her kind of roughness. In fact, she's a very good Dominant, even though her style is different from mine. I wanted you to experience that difference. There's no one correct approach."

"Thank you, Mistress Ai."

"Come with me, Gakusha." She led him to the kitchen, where Inkei and Asoko were sitting together, sipping from little glasses. A bottle of Drambuie sat on the bar between them. "I told them to give themselves a treat. You can have one too."

"Thank you, Mistress Ai," said Andrew.

Inkei got up and fetched another little glass, which he filled and handed to Andrew.

Mistress Ai said, "Inkei, come with me. Bring your drink. You two can enjoy your drinks and go to bed when you're ready. I won't be needing you again tonight."

When Andrew and Asoko were alone, she said, "Mistress Ai loves Inkei's big cock. She takes him to bed with her a lot. I wish she took me to bed half as much. I've never seen her suck a cock, but I'll bet she sucks Inkei when she gets him alone. I love sucking his cock too. When he comes in your mouth it's like nothing you've ever experienced. You ought to try him before you go. He wouldn't mind."

"I think maybe not," said Andrew. "I'm pretty much a girl guy. Do you always speak so frankly?"

"I'm dedicating my life to being a fuck-toy," said Asoko. "I'd better be able to talk about sex, since it's what I like to do most. But it's easier to talk to other slaves than to Masters and Mistresses. Tomorrow, when you turn back into a Master, I'll probably get all tongue-tied around you."

"Maybe I won't turn back into a Master. Mistress Raquel made me feel pretty submissive tonight."

"It's good that you can feel like a submissive," said Asoko. "It's easier to trust a Dominant that knows what it feels like."

"Do you really think Tosatsu can train Dominants the way she says?" asked Andrew, thinking of how she'd said, "I wish they'd let us make love."

"I'll bet she does a good job," said Asoko. "I think she's sweet. I'm going to throw her down and fuck her next time she's here."

He took that as a yes of sorts. "You really are frank," he said.

She smiled. "When you look like me, you've got to be up front about your desires. Otherwise you don't get fucked at all."

"I think you're really pretty," said Andrew.

"You're joking," she laughed.

"No," he said, thinking of her wide hips and plump thighs. He shook his head.

Asoko tossed back the rest of her Drambuie and grabbed Andrew's hand. "C'mon," she said. "It's time for bed."

She towed him along the hallway to the empty slaves' quarters and led him to the futon next to his. She turned to him with a smile and unbuckled and pulled off his collar. "Take me, Master Gakusha," she said.

He pushed her down and fell upon her. She flung her arms around him and kissed him enthusiastically, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.

"Let me go down on you," she said.

Andrew said, "You already did that once today. It's my turn."

She squealed with delight. Andrew slid down till he was lying between her legs. Her labia were puffy, pinkish, and tightly closed, but they parted easily when he spread them with his fingers, revealing her beautiful pink clit and inner folds, which were swelling and shining with her wetness. He flicked her clit lightly with the tip of his tongue. She stirred and sighed, and he dipped deeper into her, savoring her flavor and rich aroma. He'd never seen a pussy this wet - her juices were puddling up and overflowing. He wanted to drown in cunt: he wrapped his arms around her ample thighs, sank his lips into her, and drank deep.

He stayed between her legs a long time, till he sensed her restlessness, and then he stood up on the futon and said, "Suck me now." She came to him on her knees, put her hands on the back of his thighs, and sucked his balls, gazing up at him. She licked the length of him and sucked him into her, and he held her ponytail and pulled her to him, wanting to control and possess her, feeling her need to please and wanting to be pleased for her sake. She leaned into him, hands on his knees, and sucked him deeply and wetly.

She got him a condom and rolled it onto him, and he fucked her face to face, from behind as she knelt, and again as she lay moaning face down on the futon. He lay her on her side and fucked her, and he made her ride him. He took a break to taste her dripping pussy and get sucked, and he fucked her again. He held her down with his hands, lifted her, pushed her, and reveled in the pleasure she took in his control of her body. He pulled out of her and fucked her with his hand till she came in spite of herself, and he put his wet hand in her mouth and fucked her again with savage joy till he came inside her.

He held her and said, "Stay with me," and they fell asleep together, arms and legs tangled up. He woke before dawn the next morning and found her pressed against him, knee over his leg. He woke her up and fucked her ass; then they fell asleep again.

When Inkei came to wake them, Andrew put on his collar and resumed his life as a slave. He had breakfast duty that morning, and then he had to change all the beds, launder the previous day's sheets, and clean the playroom. He worked more cheerfully than he had the day before.

At eleven, Mistress Ai summoned him to her in the playroom, where she was sitting alone in the room's one chair. "Close the door," she said. He did, and came to stand in front of her.

"I asked Asoko about your activities last night, and she told me," she said.

Andrew flushed. "I hope it was all right, Mistress Ai," he said.

"The only problematic part is your becoming a Master for the night," she said. "But I allow my slaves to play games when they're not at their tasks, and I can see that it might be fun to play at being a Master for a while. Did you enjoy it?"




Pipit Ch. 05



"Yes, Mistress Ai."

"So did Asoko," she said, smiling and picking up a coil of rope from the floor beside her.

"Are you going to punish me, Mistress Ai?" asked Andrew.

"No," she said. "I'm going to prepare you for your return to your beautiful slave, and while doing so, I'm going to amuse myself. Lie on the floor."

She bound his legs together and bound his arms to his sides. He was immobilized on his back. He wondered what she was planning to do with him, but knew better than to ask.

She stood where he could see her and undressed slowly. He'd seen her naked several times before, but always when she was about to play with someone else. The dragon draped over her shoulder looked voracious. He sensed his cock getting hard.

She stood above him, one dainty foot on either side of his head. He looked up at her: her pubic hair was trimmed into a neat patch, but where she had left it, it was long and straight, and it hid her slit. But she reached down and parted her labia, showing him the delicious pink inside, and said, "Do you like it, Gakusha?"

"Yes, Mistress Ai," he said, thinking his cock made the answer obvious.

"Do you want it?" she asked.

He thought about that. His desire for her pussy - to lick it, to fuck it - was strong, but the desire to know what she wanted, and to serve her desire, was much stronger.

"I want to serve you, Mistress Ai," he said.

"That's good," she said. She let go of herself, and her pubic hair closed over her slit. She took a step back, lifted one naked foot, and placed it on his chest. She massaged his chest and stomach with the sole of her foot, caressed his cock with her toes - the combination of stimulation and mild degradation was exquisite - and finally inserted all the toes of her foot into his mouth. His cock started to throb as he sucked eagerly.

She stopped and knelt beside him. She ran a finger from the base of his neck down the center of his body to the top of his pubic hair, then back. She touched one nipple lightly, circled it with a fingertip, and then pinched it; she did the same for the other. Then she leaned over and blew softly on the first nipple, then the second. She kissed each of them lightly. He groaned with frustrated desire.

"Patience, Gakusha," she said. "How often have you edged your women? And has it ever been done to you? Have you ever done it to yourself?"

"No, Mistress Ai," said Andrew.

"Then this is the last part of your training," said Mistress Ai. "You can see the clock: it's eleven fifteen. We'll continue till noon, and you'll have your orgasm after that."

For the next forty-five minutes she massaged his feet, licked his neck, teased the insides of his thighs, tickled his armpits, blew lightly on his balls, teased the underside of his cock with a finger, rubbed his pre-cum into the head, stroked him with her hand, and sat down on his cock, stimulating herself by sliding the length of it without inserting it in herself. By five minutes to twelve he was begging, "Please, Mistress," and squirming in his bonds; tears gathered in his eyes.

She stopped and said, "One of us may have an orgasm, you or I. Which shall it be, Gakusha?"

Till seconds ago, Andrew had believed he wanted relief from his arousal more than anything, but the thought of Mistress Ai going without an orgasm for his sake terrified him: he couldn't bear to have a thing when she didn't have it, or to be responsible for her frustration.

"You, Mistress Ai," he said.

"Thank you, Gakusha," she said. "I accept your offer of pleasure." She straddled his head and lowered herself onto him, and he was thrilled licking her neat, delicately flavored pussy, so beautiful in black pubic hair - so different from Mistress Raquel's raw, primitive cunt. It seemed a huge gift for Mistress Ai to allow him this kind of intimacy with her body. He ate her out with great concentration, wanting to make it wonderful for her, the best orgasm she'd ever had - though he understood how unlikely that was.

She rode his mouth hard, rocking and sliding, stimulating his lips and tongue, until finally she came with high-pitched, breathy gasps.

She climbed off him and said, "It's noon. You're no longer a slave, Andrew."

"Too late for an orgasm," he said ruefully.

"Get your orgasm from Emily," she said. "She's longing to give you that pleasure, and you can please her by accepting it from her."

"Thank you, Mistress Ai," he said.

"Just Ai," she said, "your friend."

As they dressed, Andrew wondered if he'd learned anything. He'd tasted drudgery, pain, and frustration. He'd tasted the terrifying Mistress Raquel, too, the delightfully wet Asoko, and the sublime Mistress Ai. He longed to taste the beautiful Tosatsu, who'd said, "Come see me some time at Mistress Shigemi's." But he put all these women out of his mind, and the image of Emily, his own beautiful slave, came to him in their place. His arousal was still painful. He said his goodbyes as quickly as he politely could and hurried home.



Pipit Ch. 06



Author's note: Here's Chapter 6 of "Pipit," the story of a beautiful but unpleasant submissive and the people in her life. In earlier chapters, she was hired as a professional submissive (under the name Tosatsu), got her roommate and lover Neko fired from her job as a professional submissive, hooked up with Raquel, a Daddy Domme, and made contact with Andrew, the young and naive Master of her arch-rival, the consensual slave Emily.

Note: This and some following chapters of this dark tale will depict practices that are not approved by most in the BDSM lifestyle. I trust that readers will understand the fictional purpose for their inclusion here, and that depiction of a practice does not imply endorsement of it. Tags: stocks, violet wand, flogging, punishment, humiliation, degradation, lesbian sex, straight sex, anal sex, prostitution.

* * *

Chapter 6. One web, two flies

Neko had the number of Muchi, one of the younger Dommes. Muchi didn't know what had become of Tosatsu, being above that kind of gossip herself, but she thought Keimusho, an older Domme, had mentioned something about it, and gave Neko her number. Keimusho made it pretty obvious that she didn't welcome a call from the disgraced Neko, even though she herself did what Neko had been fired for, but she grumpily told her that Tosatsu was living for a little while with Mistress Raquel and gave her Raquel's number. If Tosatsu had a phone of her own, she didn't know the number.

The last thing Neko wanted to do was call Raquel, the scariest of the Dominants and the one most likely to taunt her for her recent misfortunes. But she forced herself to do it.

"Fucking Neko!" Raquel exclaimed. "Only name I can remember in the whole fucking place, and you get your skinny ass fired. How the fuck you manage that?"

"I don't know, Raquel. I thought it was like an open secret, what the girls do after hours, but I guess not."

"They just don't want their fucking noses rubbed in it. What do you want with me, Neko? I know everybody says I'm thick with Ai, but I'm not thick enough to get her to take you back, or dumb enough to try."

"Actually, I'm calling for Pipit," said Neko, "but I don't have her number."

"Fucking Pipit," said Raquel. "Girl with a hundred names. Only grown woman in the city with no fucking phone. What do you want with her?"

The conversation was taking a worrisome turn. Raquel sounded like she wasn't sure she was going to let Pipit talk to her.

"She's a friend," said Neko. "I want to know how she's doing."

"Oh, a friend," said Raquel mockingly. "Let's see if your friend wants to talk to you." She held the phone away from her head and called, "Babycunt!"

"Oh, shit," said Neko under her breath.

After a couple of minutes Pipit said, "Hello? Neko?"

Neko suddenly felt shy. "Hi, Pipit. I'm sorry to bother you. I wanted to know how you were doing."

Pipit said, "Oh, thanks. I'm fine. How are you?"

"Okay," she said, not feeling okay at all. "I miss my roommate!" she added, trying to sound sunny.

"I miss you too, Neko," said Pipit. "You're the best roommate I ever had."

"Yeah," said Neko. "I thought we were going to be friends."

"We are friends, aren't we?" said Pipit, and something gave a happy little leap inside of Neko. Maybe this was a thing she hadn't lost yet.

"I was wondering, would you like to get together sometime? Like lunch or coffee? It'd be great to see you again."

Pipit lowered her voice. "I'll have to ask Daddy. Hang on."

In the silence, Neko said, "Oh, fuck." It was a lot worse than she thought.

Raquel came on and said, "What the fuck are you up to, Neko? You starting up a whorehouse and recruiting girls? Pipit's a sweet innocent thing."

"She's a friend, Raquel. That's all. I miss her and want to see her."

"Well, you can come see her here. No telling what you cunts'll get up to if I don't keep an eye on you." They arranged for Neko to come to Raquel's place the next afternoon at three.

"Fuck! Shit!" said Neko when she'd hung up the phone. Life was going to be tough for Pipit if Raquel had her claws in her, and Neko had no idea how to rescue her.

* * *

Daddy sat quietly on the sofa, thinking, as Pipit sat on the floor at her feet, leafing through a copy of Vogue. It had been a long time since she'd had any nice clothes - Christopher had been the last Master who cared how she dressed, or even let her wear clothing around the house. Frederick and Karen kept her naked most of the time and made her wear shorts, jeans, or plain dresses when she went out.

So many of the things in Vogue were beautiful! She could afford to buy some nice clothes herself, but when could she shop for them? For that matter, when would she wear them? She'd been with Daddy almost a week and hadn't gone anywhere by herself the whole time. She wasn't even allowed to go to a coffee shop with Neko. She wondered if Daddy would ever trust her to go out on her own.

Daddy pushed down her black pants and said, "Eat me, babycunt." Pipit got on her hands and knees between Daddy's legs and started to lick. She spent a lot of each day licking and sucking Daddy's pussy and ass, and she really liked it, though sometimes she thought Daddy herself didn't care all that much. It seemed to be a sort of reflex Daddy had, whenever she happened to think of her babycunt.

"I've been thinking about your friend Neko," said Daddy. "She's got to have lost a lot of income, getting canned that way."

Pipit's mouth was busy, so she didn't answer. Daddy's cunt was blossoming for her, lubricating, clit and labia swelling.

"She hasn't just lost the income from Mistress Shigemi's," Daddy said. "Some of the clients who used to fuck her have been coming here to fuck you instead. I doubt she's got enough to pay the rent, unless she's got something saved up or she's figured out some way to drum up business for herself." Daddy put a hand on Pipit's forehead and pushed her back from her pussy. "Don't you worry about her, babycunt?"

It hadn't occurred to Pipit to worry about Neko not having enough money, but she said, "Yes, Daddy."

"I thought you would, you're such a tender-hearted little bitch," said Daddy. She let go of Pipit, who went back to eating out Daddy. "Well, you and I will help her, babycunt."

Daddy was gruff, but really kind underneath. Yes, they'd help Neko. Daddy would know how. Daddy always knew best.

* * *

It was even worse than Neko had expected: Pipit was naked and wearing a worn brown dog collar. But she was undamaged and healthy, and she seemed the old Pipit as she closed the door behind Neko and hugged her warmly.

Raquel appeared, looking voluptuous in black shorts and a sleeveless Harley shirt, and said, "C'mon, you kids. I've made some tea and goodies for you." She led them to the kitchen and set mugs of tea in front of them. She set a little plate of cookies in the middle of the table, said, "I'll leave you two to catch up," and left them alone.

Pipit looked at Neko with concern and said, "How're you getting along, Neko? I've been worried about you."

"Pretty good," Neko said. "It's kind of lonely, not working, and I'm not sure what I'm going to do next. There aren't all that many places like Mistress Shigemi's, you know, and they've all heard about me. There's no point in me applying for a job at any of them. I'm just out of that whole business."

"I'm so sorry," Pipit said.

"I've still got a few clients that come to see me at my place," Neko said, "but I don't want that to be like the way I make my living, you know? I didn't mind being a professional submissive that took men home sometimes. But I don't want to be a whore that happens to be a submissive."

Pipit took Neko's hand and said, "Is there any other kind of job you can do?"

"I don't know," Neko said. "I never finished college. My parents cut me off when they found out about my lifestyle, and I had to drop out. I waitressed till I got the job at Mistress Shigemi's. I guess I could do that again, but it wouldn't pay well enough to let me keep my apartment. I could find a student for a roommate, but any vanilla person would run away in panic. How would I explain the cross?"

Pipit squeezed her hand and said, "I'll bet something good comes up."

Now that she'd spoken her problems aloud, Neko felt hopelessness surge up inside her. "I don't think so," She said. "I think I'm fucked." She buried her face in her hands and struggled to get herself under control. She hadn't come here to cry on Pipit's shoulder - she was ashamed of her tears.

She felt Pipit's hands on her, kneading her shoulders. "I'm so sorry, baby," Pipit said, with real warmth and feeling. It felt like the first nice thing anybody'd said to her since her firing. Neko turned around and looked up at Pipit, at the tears in her eyes, the concern that showed in every feature of her face.

Pipit said, "Daddy said we could have the playroom to ourselves if we wanted. There are mats there. Do you want to go?"

Neko felt she was really lucky to have such a good friend. "I'd like that," she said, and got up.

Pipit led her to a small room with a few items of BDSM furniture crammed in and mats on the floor. She took her in her arms and said, "Everybody needs play and sex that isn't, you know, business. If you've got real relationships, they're way more important than the business ones."

That was such a beautiful thing to say, Neko melted into Pipit's arms and let herself feel loved and cared for. Pipit kissed her sweetly - her lips were so soft and she smelled of subtle herbs and fruits. Her fingers picked at Neko's buttons, snaps, and zippers. Then Neko was naked, laid gently on the mat, and Pipit's beautiful eyes were gazing into hers over her mound, and her tongue was so warm, so loving, so wet sliding inside her, brushing her tender clit, so sweet as she probed into her and lapped up her arousal. Yes, Pipit was right: if you had real relationships, they might not fix everything, but at least life would be bearable. You could survive anything, if you had people in your life.

Pipit crawled up to kiss her nipples, and Neko glanced around the room - cross, table, stocks, cage. She had a cross in her apartment. It was her pride and joy, but still it was just one thing.

"I love the stocks," Neko said. "I wonder . . ."

"I don't think I could," said Pipit. "But I bet Daddy'd be glad to."

"I don't know," said Neko. "I don't think she likes me."

"Oh, I know she does," said Pipit. "She's been as worried about you as I am. I know she comes off as kind of rough, but she's a really good Domme. She's really caring."

Neko had her doubts, but she was getting excited imagining herself in the stocks. What was the harm? She was used to being whipped by people she hardly knew at all. At least she knew Raquel, even if she was scary.

"Okay," said Neko. "If she wants."

Pipit soon came back with Raquel, who said, "You masochists are fucking unbelievable. Take one look at some fucking stocks and you puddle, and then you put me to a fuckload of trouble whipping you. Well, you'd better get the fuck in. You help her, babycunt."

Neko was happy that Pipit was the one fastening her into the stocks: she loved her gentle touch and the comforting way she petted her exposed bottom. But she'd heard that Raquel didn't do warmup, or did it so fast it hardly counted as warmup. She braced herself for an onslaught as Pipit came to the front of her, kissed her cheek, and held one of her hands.

Raquel started with a paddle. It was true that she did little warmup, just a few not-quite-violent strokes of the paddle. But then she quickly became a force of nature, a category five hurricane with hard things blowing in it, and you were immobilized in the stocks as it blew all around you. She paddled Neko's bottom, upper back and thighs; then she caned her in the same places. It was incredible, and Neko was so aroused, with this blinding light all around her, and having Pipit there, such a warm presence, made the experience different and somehow loving in a way Neko had never known before.

When the caning was done and Pipit released her from the stocks, Raquel's idea of aftercare was to make Neko eat her big sloppy pussy; but Pipit was there holding her while she did it, and it didn't matter that Raquel was calling her a dumb cunt and a butt-fuck whore - or it did matter, but in a good way, like the caning. Neko felt euphoric, cocooned in love.

After Raquel had had her orgasm, she sat and watched Neko and Pipit make love, Pipit topping Neko, who perceived her friend as a kind of aura that enveloped and warmed her - a surrounding mist of wet and dry touches, caresses, and kisses that gradually stimulated her sore body until she came - a strange, otherworldly orgasm - something beamed in from space, but still huge and intense.

Raquel left the room. Neko and Pipit lay on the mat together for a long time, holding each other. Finally Neko said, "That was really beautiful. I don't think I've ever felt anything like it."

"All my scenes with Daddy are like nothing else in the world," said Pipit. "I know she comes across like she doesn't care, but she's really loving. She understands what I need and gives it to me."

"What's that?" Neko asked, knowing it could never be a thing she could give Pipit.

"She brings clients here to fuck me . . ."

"Baby, you can't do that!" cried Neko. "You'll get yourself fired!"

"Nobody's stopped doing it," said Pipit. "They're just being more careful about it."

Neko was scared for Pipit. "I thought I was careful too. They've got to be really watching now," she said. "What if you got fired? How would you live?"

"Daddy would take care of me, the same way she does now." Pipit turned to Neko suddenly, as if she'd just had a wonderful idea. She said, "Do you think you'd like to play here sometimes, you know, with clients? I'm sure it'd be all right with Daddy. You could use the stocks, and sometimes maybe we could do scenes together, like we did today, but we could think up even better ones. I'd love playing with you! I'll bet Daddy could even help you find new clients. She's really good at that."

Neko hesitated. She was still afraid of Raquel, who seemed unstable. It would be easy to fall under her spell the way Pipit had. And she wasn't sure she wanted new clients - how many more would there be before she really was a whore? On the other hand, the little she had saved was going fast, her rent was due in a few days, and she had no idea how she was going to pay it. She had little choice but to accept any help that was offered.

"Well," Neko said, "I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask her."

Pipit went to find Raquel, who said, "I get twenty percent if you use the room. Fifty if I set up the scene."

Neko swallowed. She'd never had to share this way before. She wanted to ask Pipit if that was her arrangement too, but she didn't dare in front of Raquel.

"Okay," she said.

Raquel smiled. "I can see you don't like it. Why don't you just move the fuck in here with babycunt? There's plenty of room, and the more cunts we got rooming together, the cheaper the rent is for everybody."

Pipit bounced on the balls of her feet and said, "Wouldn't it be wonderful to live together again?"

The idea had its attractions. Neko's rent worries would be over, especially if she could sublet her apartment, and she could keep an eye on Pipit. But she had to be cautious.

"Can I have a look around?"

"Sure," said Raquel. "Babycunt, show Neko around."

Neko could deal with the clutter: she knew the place would be much cleaner after she'd been living there a little while. But she saw that there was just one bedroom, with a king-sized bed. "Where would I sleep?" she asked.

"We'll have to ask Daddy. I sleep in the cage in the playroom," said Pipit.

Neko's heart sank. "I don't know if I can sleep in a cage," she said.

Behind them, Raquel said, "If you stay here, you play by Daddy's rules. But I'll be good to you. I'll buy you your own fucking cage."

"I can't do it," said Neko.

* * *

Pipit cowered in her cage as Daddy sat just outside, holding a violet wand with a long tip and handle. Pipit cringed as the tip approached. There was a snap, and Pipit cried, "Ow, Daddy!"

"You were supposed to talk her into moving in, idiot skank," said Daddy.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," said Pipit.

Daddy shocked her again. "I want the cunt here where I can keep an eye on her. I don't fucking trust her, and you shouldn't either."

"Okay, Daddy, I'm sorry," said Pipit.

"Dumb cunt's half in love with you," said Daddy. "This isn't rocket science - you can make her do fucking anything, if you think and use your fucking brain." Daddy shocked her again.

"Ow! I'll try, Daddy."

"You'll succeed, babycunt. Believe me, you haven't had a fucking punishment yet."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Pipit sobbed, and waited for the shock.

* * *

Raquel had let Pipit come visit all by herself. She'd even given Pipit permission to have sex with Neko, and they'd made love on her big bed. Neko loved Pipit's body more every time she saw it. She'd topped today and had caressed every inch of her and kissed and licked the sexy parts - all the body's openings and the places where the nerves are close to the surface, and then some secret places Pipit told her about in confidence.

But now Pipit was crying in Neko's arms, and her tears were like knives cutting her up inside.

"Daddy's good to me," Pipit said. "Really she is. But she goes like days without even talking to me sometimes, except to tell me what to do. And I spend all night alone. It's so lonely sometimes, I cry myself to sleep. I think about you all the time, Neko, wishing you were with me. I'm sorry, I know that's selfish."

"No, sweetie," said Neko, hugging her tighter. "I want to be with you, too."

In truth, Neko didn't need much persuading. She was already late paying her rent - worse than late, really. She had no hope of paying it at all, since her monthly income had fallen well below her monthly rent. Even a roommate wouldn't get her out of trouble now. She'd had one session at Raquel's, and that had gotten her a little extra money, but Raquel had hinted broadly that she wasn't going to put herself out for a girl who was too stuck up to live with her co-workers.

Soon Neko would receive a late notice from her landlord, and shortly after that he'd begin eviction proceedings. She could draw the process out for months, but she didn't have the heart for it. The outcome would be the same no matter what she did. Calling her parents was out of the question, and she didn't have any friends she could crash with.

Better Raquel than the street, and if she was going to do it, she'd better do it soon. Students were looking for apartments now, but they wouldn't be much longer. Yes, she'd do it, and she'd do it today.

"Help me pack, Pipit, and I'll come home with you."

Pipit gave a delighted squeak, hugged Neko tight, and jumped up, ready to lend a hand. They packed some clothing, toiletries, cosmetics and sex toys in a small suitcase, and arrived at Raquel's apartment that afternoon around five. Raquel herself opened the door and said, "Oh, look, here's our new cunt! Come in and take your fucking clothes off, cunt."

Heart sinking, Neko stepped in and shed her clothing as Pipit stood by and watched. Raquel circled Neko slowly, touching her here and there. In spite of herself, Neko was getting wet. Finally Raquel stopped in front of her, slid a proprietary finger into her slit, and said, "I like it. Skinny little stick of a twat, hardly any tits. Face like a fucking rat. I think I'll call you ratfuck. Come here, ratfuck, and give Daddy's ass a kiss."




Pipit Ch. 06



* * *

"This is your lucky night," said Mistress Kathy. "Tosatsu isn't usually available for walk-ins, but tonight she had a couple of cancellations."

Mistress Kathy took Andrew to the warehouse room, where Tosatsu was waiting, looking just as beautiful as he remembered. She put her hands on his shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek. "I'm glad you came," she said. Kathy left them alone.

"Before we start," Tosatsu said, "we have to talk about limits and plan out the scene. But first maybe we should talk a little about why you're here. You said you had a girlfriend, and you were both in the lifestyle."

"Yeah." said Andrew, "We got into it together, but then I dropped out for a long time - more than a year - while she went on with it. We've been back together for just a couple months, and - I guess I feel like I need to get up to speed."

"What's your slave's name?" asked Tosatsu. "Just to make it easier to talk about your relationship."

"Emily," said Andrew.

Tosatsu asked about the kinds of play Emily liked and her limits, and Andrew spoke of her love of impact play, and her ruling out scat and most kinds of edgeplay.

Tosatsu said, "What a slave needs is a Master who's masterful - who doesn't doubt himself and takes what's his without ever asking. I like being taken by surprise by a Master's mastery - you know, his overwhelming force. I like it when I don't know what he has in mind. Limits are important, but I like it when a Master pushes right up to my limits, and even goes a little over. That expands my abilities and reminds me who's in charge - who's setting the rules. And if his manner is confident and strong, it's really erotic to be pushed that hard. If your slave is turned on, that's guaranteed to turn you on, too."

This sounded a little different from what Andrew had been told. He wasn't sure he was comfortable pushing past anyone's limits, but he was curious what it would feel like to play rough with this beautiful woman. "Okay - I get it," he said. "What are your limits?"

"They're kind of like Emily's, but I can't bear the thought of anyone hitting hard enough to break the skin," she said. "That's an absolute hard limit."

"Okay," he said. "I've never broken Emily's skin either, even though she hasn't made it a limit."

"It's something you might want to think about, then," said Tosatsu. "She might make it a hard limit, but then she might like it. I know my roommate does."

They planned out their scene, keeping it simple: Andrew would bind her to one of the rough-hewn wooden posts in the room, flog her upper back with a cat, and let her reactions guide him towards greater intensity. If all went well, they'd move from the cat to a cane.

He remembered the flogging he'd gotten from Ai and tried to make the first strokes like caresses. She closed her eyes dreamily, sighed, and said, "Oh, that's good. Work your way up, but don't ask anything or tell me anything. Just do it."

Andrew did that: he gradually increased the force of his strokes, getting more aroused every moment until she was writhing and moaning. Then he paused and stepped close to her, meaning to ask if she felt up to going on with the cane, but before he could speak she said, "Masters don't ask. They just do it."

Tosatsu's upper back was red. Andrew tapped lightly with the cane where the skin was reddest, and she twisted and said "Ow!" Feeling bolder, he quickly built till she was shrieking and he was beginning to worry about breaking her skin. He wished he could do that - his cock was painfully hard and he thought he'd come at the sight of blood on her perfect, creamy skin. But he stopped, released her, and led her to a sofa, where he sat with his arm around her.

In a quiet, dreamy voice she said, "We can't do it the right way here. You've got to come back to my place."

"I guess I'd better get home," Andrew said. He was already unsure what he'd say to Emily about where he'd been. His homecoming would get more awkward with every hour he stayed out.

"It'll cost extra," she said in a barely audible voice. "I'm sorry about that. I wouldn't charge you anything if it were just up to me. You're so compelling. I want you to humiliate and punish me."

He remembered her exquisite body, flawless from head to foot, and the way she'd said, "I wish they'd let us make love."

She whispered now. "I want you to take my body. I want to give you every inch of me to use for your pleasure. I need you to fuck me."

She whispered into his ear many things she longed for him to do to her body, till his need to make love to her was irresistible. "Okay," he said.

She smiled. "You won't be sorry," she said. "Talk to Mistress Raquel."

* * *

Raquel showed them into her playroom and left them alone. Andrew's stomach was fluttery. This was appallingly expensive. He could afford it, sort of, since he and the two women were living on Amanda's money and not spending any of his, but he couldn't easily justify it to himself, particularly since, somewhere in the back of his mind where he was still being honest with himself, he wasn't at all sure his purpose was really to become a better Master. But since he'd committed himself, he had to go on.

Tosatsu said, "I'd like to suggest a game where we explore the border between humiliation and degradation. Like humiliation is when you make somebody feel ashamed, and degradation is when you take that so far it actually hurts. Okay?"

"Okay," said Andrew.

Tosatsu said, "Was there ever a girl, like in high school or college, that dissed you, really humiliated you?"

"Oh, yeah," said Andrew. "Becky Harrington. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She went out with the most popular guys, you know, the star athlete, the guy who drove the beemer. She went out for a while with the team's quarterback, and when I heard they'd broken up, I worked up the nerve to call her. I was like, what's the harm? She turned me down politely enough, but went around talking about how that dorky Andrew had the nerve to ask her for a date. It was like some nightmare out of a teen movie. Very humiliating."

"That's perfect," said Tosatsu. "Why don't we make believe you're in town for some kind of convention. You call up an escort service, and the girl they send round is Becky Harrington. You know her parents have no idea she's, like, a prostitute, because your parents have been passing along all kinds of news about how brilliantly she's doing in her career in, I don't know, finance. Does that sound like a scene you could get into?"

"Yeah," he said, "it sounds good." That old insult still rankled a little, now that he thought about it.

"Okay," she said. "I'm that girl Becky. You're not going to sympathize with my plight - you're not going to be even a little bit kind. The sight of me pisses you off, and you just want to get revenge for the way I humiliated you all those years ago. You've got all the power, so you know you can do it. You're going to humiliate me, and maybe even cross the line a little into degradation. Then you're going to fuck me like you hate me. Do degrading things to me. If you show me any kindness or sympathy at all, I'm going to stop the scene and turn you over to Mistress Raquel."

He smiled and said, "Anything but that," though his cock had gotten tingly at his first sight of Raquel tonight, and had grown heavy in his pants when she'd said, "Well, if it isn't the fucking loser!"

"Good," Tosatsu said. "I'm going to leave the room, count to ten, and knock on the door. When you open it, this'll be your hotel room, and we'll start the scene."

She left the room, Andrew took a few deep breaths, and then the knock came.

He opened the door, and she gave him a sunny smile, which faded quickly into uncertainty.

"Hi," she said, voice a little quavery. "I'm Dusty."

"No, you're not," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said uncertainly. "I think maybe I have the wrong room . . ."

"I don't think so, Becky," he said, seizing her wrist and pulling her inside. "I sent for a whore, and you look exactly like a whore."

She tried to twist away, saying, "Let me go. I really have to go."

"No, no, Becky. It's been such a long time. We've got so much to catch up on."

"It has been a long time . . . Andrew?"

"Your parents are telling everybody you've got a job in finance, and you're making a bundle. That's a little exaggerated, isn't it?"

"A little," she said in a small voice.

"I'll bet you are making a bundle, though. Selling your ass is lucrative."

He paused. She didn't say anything, but glanced towards the door.

He went on. "Don't think of trying to escape, Becky. Think what a pity it'd be if your parents found out how you're making a living. If it happened to slip out while I was talking to my mother - she's a terrible gossip, you know - it'd be all over town in a heartbeat."

"No," she said, wilting. "You can't . . . please don't tell."

"Don't you deserve it, though? You were a nasty little number back when I knew you. Wouldn't it be just right, you know, karmically, if everyone knew you were living off your cunt?"

"I always liked you, Andrew, really I . . ."

"Get on your fucking knees when you talk to me. Here, right in front of me."

She knelt in front of him and said "I always thought you were cute, and really sweet, Andrew . . ."

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," said Andrew. "I'm going to spend the rest of the night making up my mind whether to let your proud mommy and daddy know you're a whore. You'd better be thinking about how to please me. Believe me, you can't do it with lies."

"I'll please you, Andrew, I swear." Her mouth looked so succulent when she said that, and talking this way was incredibly hot. He was already rock hard.

"Call me Sir, whore."

"Yes, Sir," she said, looking frightened.

"Take your clothes off."

She started to get up.

"Don't get up. Do it on the floor."

She pulled off her top and squirmed out of her shorts while sitting on the floor.

"Lie down," Andrew said. "Spread your legs, pull your lips apart, and show me your cunt."

She did those things. Andrew saw she was wet already. He bent down and slid a finger into her. He thought she had the most beautiful pussy he'd ever seen.

As he finger-fucked her, she said, "Do you like it, Sir?"

He said, "Shut up and turn over."

She turned onto her stomach, and he bent down, pulled her ass cheeks apart, and inspected her anus. That was just as beautiful - tight, symmetrical, pink. He pressed a thumb against it and felt it push back against him. "I'll bet you sell your asshole, too, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir. You can fuck my ass too, Sir . . ."

"Just answer my fucking questions. Don't say any more." He turned her onto her back again and gave one breast a slap, making her gasp.

She even looked a little like Becky. Andrew said, "I can't believe I ever thought you were beautiful. You have pretty features, but the rot inside makes you ugly as hell. You may as well weigh five hundred pounds, because you're so filthy and depraved, I can hardly stand to look at you."

Her eyes were beginning to tear up. "I'm sorry, Sir," she said.

"Sorry for what?" Andrew said. "Sorry for the way you treated me back in school? Sorry for being scum?"

"Everything, Sir. I'm so sorry."

She was so persuasive when she said "I'm sorry" that he almost believed his words were really hurting her. The feeling was exhilarating, as if he were the world's greatest Dominant, making his sub feel the most powerful emotions. He needed more of it.

"You are a sorry slut," he said, putting a hand on her bare mound. He slid a finger into her: she was already wet. "Does it turn you on, selling your cunt?"

"Yes, Sir," she said, wriggling under his hand. "Please, Sir, I need you to fuck me."

As he listened, his arousal became unbearable. He stood, pushed his pants down, and said, "Suck me, bitch."

"Yes, Sir," she said meekly. With a graceful, fluid movement, she got to her knees in front of him and leaned forward, letting his cock slide into her mouth. He reached around her, seized her braid, and pulled her to him roughly, forcing her to take him deep.

"Fucking skank," he said. "You were already a whore back in high school. And now you're just a collection of holes for men to squirt cum into, aren't you?"

Her answer was a liquid, gargling noise. Tears were running down her cheeks. He pulled her to him harder, and she choked and drooled. That turned him on more, but Emily often did that for him, and he wanted something bigger and more intense.

"Just a fuck-toy," he said, and shoved her backwards onto the floor. "Like a plastic love doll." He mounted her head and forced himself deep into her, grunting with the effort. She squirmed and put her arms around his thighs as he pounded her throat. She gagged, turned her head so his cock flopped out of her, and spat drool onto the floor. Then she turned back to him and cried, "Please, Sir!"

He pushed into her again, took her head in both hands, and pulled her up hard. He held her there, tight against him, nose smashed into his pubic hair, and moved a little back and forth, liking the way that stimulated the head of his cock way back in her throat.

Suddenly her body convulsed, and she wrenched away and vomited a yellowish mess onto the floor - not a lot, but enough to excite Andrew even more. He seized her head again and thrust as she flailed under him, choking and puking, making a yellow puddle.

When he felt he was close to coming, he pulled out of her. He yanked her to her knees, bent down, slapped her cheek, and enjoyed the way she said "Ow!" and flinched.

She was really crying now. "I'm sorry, Sir," she sobbed. Shit, she was good, really convincing. He slapped her other cheek, grabbed her wet pussy, and rubbed hard, overstimulating her and making her cry out.

"Time for a fuck, cunt," he said, and slapped her pussy, making her twitch violently.

"Ow, Sir!" she cried as he sank three fingers into her, "Anything, Sir!" He didn't know when he'd felt as good as he did right now, his body buzzing with energy, his mind ablaze with a wild happiness.

He'd left a few condom packets on the edge of the mat. He took one, put it on, climbed on top of Tosatsu and thrust into her pussy. He slid in easily - he'd turned her on so! "What are you?" he growled.

"I'm a whore, Sir!"

"Are you filthy and degraded?"

"Yes, Sir, I'm a filthy whore!"

He made her say these things over and over, like a catechism, as he fucked her. Then he flipped her over and thrust a finger into her ass, which she'd already lubricated for him. He rammed into her from behind, sudden and hard, and enjoyed the way she cried out with the pain and sobbed "I'm sorry, Sir!" as he fucked her and taunted her with her worthlessness and sluttishness.

And finally, when he felt his orgasm coming, he pulled out of her ass, tore the condom off, and flipped her over. Her face was wet with drool, bile, and tears - more beautiful than ever. "Oh, please, I'm sorry," she whined, but he jerked off inches from her open mouth, and his cum splashed onto her cheeks, into her mouth, onto her forehead, and into her eyes.

"Filthy whore," he snarled, and was thrilled by her tears and her devastated look as he smeared his cum all over her face with an open hand.

He held her then, and she cried quietly in his arms. He thought it strange that she was still crying after the scene was done. Not knowing what else to do, he stroked her back and waited for her to recover. When she'd calmed down a little, he said, "That was fantastic. I hope it wasn't too rough."

She sniffled, wiped an eye, and said, "No, it was good. You were . . . amazing. Please . . . promise me you'll come back?"

He didn't say anything. He didn't mean to come back, but in his heart he must have known he had to.

* * *

Neko wished she knew how to comfort Pipit. She sat with her arms around her friend while Raquel saw Andrew out. Then Raquel came back, took Pipit from her, and held her in her arms, and she cried in Raquel's ample bosom for a long time, unable to speak. Finally Pipit said, "I'm sorry, Daddy."

Raquel rocked Pipit and said, "You're really fucking exhausting, you know that, babycunt?"

Pipit said, "I'm sorry. Please, Daddy?" and started to cry again.

Raquel got up tiredly, leaving Pipit sprawled on the mat. She came back smacking a paddle against her palm.

"Fucking whore," Raquel said. "Filthy cunt. On your shoulders and knees."

Neko sat and watched Raquel make lovely red marks on Pipit's ass while she screamed that she was sorry, so sorry. She wondered what in the world was going on.

When Pipit's ass was all red and shiny, Raquel sent her to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Neko had the next turn in the bathroom, and when she got back Pipit was already locked in her cage and Raquel was impatiently tossing a padlock from hand to hand. Neko crawled into the new cage that Raquel had placed next to Pipit's, and Raquel locked her in and left to go to bed.

Neko listened for a minute to Pipit's sniffles, and then said, "What did that guy do to you, Pipit?"

"He called me a whore and a slut, worthless, disgusting, and depraved, and he fucked me like he hated me. He . . . he made me throw up."

"That's horrible, sweetie."

"It was what I asked him to do."

"Why did Raquel paddle you?"

"She had to punish me for being the things he called me."

Neko took a few seconds to think about that, and then everything snapped into place. "Oh, sweetie," she said. "I wish I could give you a hug."

"You don't want to touch me," said Pipit. "I'm filthy and disgusting." She started to cry again, and Neko ached, wishing she could comfort her.

* * *

Later Pipit lay awake in her cage, wrists cuffed to the bars, listening to Neko's breathing. How she wished she could masturbate! Daddy had punished her for whoring, but there were other things that she couldn't even tell Daddy, bad things she'd done. If only Daddy knew to punish her for those! Or Neko, her best friend, or Andrew - she needed them to punish her for the things she was doing to them.

Snot dripped from Pipit's nose, but she couldn't wipe it away with her cuffed hands. Tears puddled on the floor of the cage. Moisture trickled from her pussy and tickled her thigh. She twisted her body to rub her legs together, trying to stimulate herself, but it did little good. She was wound up, her need overwhelming. She whispered, "I'm sorry, Neko. I'm so sorry, Andrew." And on the last syllable of "Andrew," she came without touching herself.



Pipit Ch. 07



Author's note: Here's Chapter 7 of "Pipit," the story of a beautiful but unpleasant submissive and the people in her life, especially her one-time rival, the consensual slave Emily (scene name Famula), Emily's Master Andrew, Pipit's friend Neko, and their "Daddy" Raquel. Pipit works as a professional submissive, and she and Neko are occasional prostitutes. In Chapter 6, Pipit and Raquel persuaded Neko to move in with them (both Pipit and Neko sleep in cages in Raquel's playroom), and Pipit had sex with Andrew and began to give him dubious advice about his relationship with Emily. Now she carries on with her project.

Note: There are references to watersports in this chapter, but no explicit descriptions of the practice. Tags: Bondage, Anal Hooks, Group Sex, FFM, Lesbian Sex, Urolagnia. 

* * *

Chapter 7. Female Male Female

The night Pipit brought Neko home with her was a turning point. After that, Daddy didn't give Pipit freedom, exactly, but she trusted her enough to let her out to stretch her legs every few days. She loved walking around the Village, the way she'd often done when she'd lived with Christopher: being on the street, surrounded by people, made her feel so alive. She'd walk around Washington Square, down Sixth Avenue, up Broadway: she loved it all.

Three days after Daddy had brought Andrew home to fuck her, she was walking up Macdougal, enjoying the crowds and thinking of getting one of her favorite lunches at Mamoun's Falafel, when she saw Famula sitting by herself at one of the tables outside Caffe Reggio. She had a cup of coffee and an untouched croissant in front of her: she was staring at these things and seeming not to see them.

It surprised Pipit that she didn't feel a surge of hatred at the sight of Famula, the way she had the last time she'd seen her. She stood on the sidewalk some thirty feet away and watched her, studying her own feelings. Definitely no hatred, no disgust. No feeling of triumph, either, at having fucked her Master. There was guilt, of course - something like what she felt whenever she was with Neko - but that feeling was an old friend. It went with her everywhere.

It had to happen, of course: Famula raised her head suddenly and looked straight into Pipit's eyes. Then she looked down quickly, as if she'd been the one caught staring, not Pipit.

Pipit rushed over to her, keeping on the far side of the green railing so it wouldn't seem she was inviting herself to sit - but Famula had to look at her. She seemed a little annoyed, as if she'd have ignored her if she could.

"Hi, Famula," Pipit said, shyly and awkwardly. "I just wanted . . . I've been thinking . . . would you tell Mouche I'm sorry? I wasn't nice to her. It's been on my mind."

Famula's face softened a little. Pipit decided she hadn't been fair to her: she was really pretty. "I'll tell her," she said. "It wasn't a terrible thing, her leaving Karen and Daniel. She's been happy."

Pipit said, "I'm glad." She really was glad. She didn't want to go. She cast about for something to say. "I had to leave, you know. Karen's kink - I just couldn't do it."

Famula hesitated a second and said, "Have you had lunch? I wouldn't mind some company."

"Thanks," Pipit said, came around behind the railing, and sat.

"I don't know how you managed it for even a little while," Famula said. "I couldn't have done it at all."

A waitress came, and Pipit ordered a latte and a panini.

"I must have been crazy. I think I started to lose my mind New Year's Eve. I never attacked anyone before, you know. You were the first."

Famula smiled. "I'd never been attacked before, or fought back. I wish I had a video of it. It'd probably be a hit on YouPorn, two naked slaves wrestling on the floor."

"Maybe we should recreate it," Pipit laughed. "If we could draw it out to about ten minutes . . ."

"Add sound effects, shots of the crowd cheering," said Famula, smiling.

Famula seemed to be warming to Pipit, who glanced at the rose vine tattoo that was just visible in the bit of cleavage she could see above her halter top. Another vine wound up the side of her neck. Even that didn't disgust Pipit anymore. It seemed pretty now, the colors vivid in the late summer light.

Famula said, "So what are you doing, if you're not with Karen and Daniel anymore?"

Pipit told Famula about her work at Mistress Shigemi's and her life with Daddy, but didn't say anything about Neko, Andrew, or fucking clients at home. "Daddy's rougher than I was used to," she said, "but she's been really good for me. I think she's teaching me to be a nicer person - if that makes any sense."

Famula said, "It does make sense. I've always thought being in a good relationship makes people better." She looked troubled for a moment, as if she didn't quite know how to continue. But the moment passed, and she said, "You weren't so bad, you know. I mean, after New Year's Eve I didn't hate you or anything."

"You're nice that way," Pipit said. "I wish being nice came as easily to me as it does to you."

Famula looked pleased and a little embarrassed. She didn't say anything.

"How about you?" Pipit asked. "I've heard you're really happy with your new Master."

There was that troubled look again. Then Famula said, "Yeah, we're really happy. He was out of the lifestyle for a long time, and he's making sort of uneven progress getting back into it. But he's good-hearted, really. If he does strange things sometimes, I just have to try and guide him."

Pipit smiled and said, "Isn't it tiring being a slave? I mean, having to be in charge all the time?"

Famula laughed. "Yeah, I always wanted to give up all responsibility and make no decisions at all. Turns out being a slave doesn't get you there."

They chatted about people they both knew and passed another half hour. By then, Pipit had finished her panini, but Famula had barely nibbled her croissant. They fiddled with their purses.

"Do you think we could stay in touch?" Pipit asked. "I've really enjoyed talking to you. I think we could become friends if - you know - you could forgive some of the shitty things I've done."

Famula smiled and said, "I'd like that." Pipit gave her Raquel's phone number and wrote down Famula's.

There was a spring in Pipit's step as she continued up Macdougal. She was pleased how much she liked Famula. She hoped they could become friends. Still, fair was fair - and the feelings her activities with Andrew were stirring up inside her were new and irresistible.

* * *

"Not all that well," said Andrew to Pipit before their play at Mistress Shigemi's. "I pushed up to her limit with the cane, the way you and I discussed, and she safeworded."

"So?" asked Pipit. It sounded to her as if the scene had gone well.

"Well, she seemed to think that since I knew where her limit was, I shouldn't have gone that far. She acted as if I'd done something wrong."

"What did you say to that?"

"I said maybe it was good for both of us to push against our limits, to keep our relationship from being static and boring. She said maybe so, but we should talk beforehand about anything new we tried."

Pipit sighed. "A lot of submissives insist on talking everything out, but I think all that talk's just a way of seizing power in the relationship. She's got to be clear about who's the Master and who's the slave, and the way you communicate that to her is by being completely in control of every scene."

Pipit was glad to see that Andrew was serious and attentive.

"Did you try any humiliation play?" she asked.

"That didn't go all that well either. Emily likes humiliation. She likes to be called cocksucker, slut, cum-bucket, things like that, but words like worthless and disgusting upset her a lot. That night she asked to go sleep with Amanda."

"Amanda?"

"She lives with us. She's Emily's slave, but she plays with me too."

"Your slave has her own slave?"

"Yeah. I know it sounds odd, but it's actually nice. I can play or have sex with either or both of them."

"Okay, but it sounds like they may be teaming up against you. Did you let Emily go sleep with her slave?"

"Yes - why not?"

"Because being in control of where she sleeps is one of the most important ways you can assert authority. You don't have to put up with her being pissed off at you. You can make her sleep on the floor or in a cage as punishment - to teach her a better attitude. You can make her sleep in a cage just to remind her who's in charge."

After they'd played at Mistress Shigemi's, Pipit suggested that Andrew come and play with both her and Neko at Mistress Raquel's, and she was thrilled when he agreed.

* * *

Neko didn't like being naked all the time. She wasn't into the Daddy thing either. She loved giving up control during play and sex, but Raquel (she couldn't think of her as "Daddy") demanded total submission twenty-four hours a day. That was wearing to a woman who'd been living independently for years, having Dominants for only an hour or so at a time.

Still, there were things to like about her new life. Raquel was really great to play with. Yes, she thundered into a scene with appalling speed - but when you knew what was coming and were ready for it, the experience was amazingly good. Neko had always gotten into subspace easily - that trance-like state was what she liked best, apart from the feeling of closeness to a top - but with Raquel she got there with a rush, as if the whole scene had been injected straight into an artery.

On the other hand, Raquel wasn't so good at aftercare. She was aroused after a scene and impatient to get off, but she could be stingy with both comfort and orgasms for her subs. And while she could occasionally be patient and tender, mostly she just wanted to have it all over with and get on with her day or go to bed. Keeping up with two energetic young subs wasn't easy for a woman in her fifties, and she was becoming more permissive every day. Before long she got the idea of having Pipit and Neko give aftercare to each other. After intense play in the stocks or on the table, Raquel would make Neko get her off, and then she'd send in Pipit, who'd release her, make love to her on the mat, bathe with her, or massage soothing lotions or oils into her skin; and Neko would do the same for Pipit after her scenes.

It wasn't long before aftercare with Pipit became the part of her life that Neko liked best. She loved taking care of her and being cared for by her, being tangled up with her on the mat or in the tub, talking to her about their lives, or just being quiet with her, not doing anything.

But living with Pipit was a heaven in all kinds of ways. Neko loved cuddling with her at Raquel's feet and sneaking touches and kisses while their Dominant wasn't looking (as she usually wasn't). She loved cooking, cleaning, and doing other household chores by her side. She wished she could share a bed with her, but sleeping in the next cage over was nice in its own way. Reaching through the bars, Neko could just touch Pipit's cuffed hands, and then they'd say good night and sleep head to head. Neko felt comforted with Pipit nearby, as if nothing bad could happen to her. She didn't quite admit to herself that she submitted much more happily to Pipit, who didn't consider herself a Dominant, than she did to Raquel. Pipit's merest wishes were commands to Neko. 

So Neko should have been happy when Pipit brought a man home with the idea that the three of them would play together. But this was Andrew, who just the week before had left Pipit in such a state that it had taken Neko and Raquel more than an hour to calm her down. It didn't help much that Pipit said she'd egged him on, practically demanding that he say degrading things to her and fuck her spitefully, hitting her triggers. Neko wasn't sure she believed her - why would she do that? - and even if she did ask him to rough her up physically and emotionally, that didn't mean he had to do it. There was something very wrong about that scene.

But Neko had to do this. Raquel insisted that she had to earn her keep, and Pipit was excited about doing a scene with Neko. Besides, after the last time with this man, Neko thought it best that she should be there to look out for her friend.

Pipit introduced her to Andrew. She hadn't gotten a good look at him before. Now she looked at him closely and was puzzled by what she saw. He looked confident, like a Dominant, but not like a man who'd push past a submissive's limits and get off on simple cruelty. If anything, he looked like one of the kinder Dominants she'd known. Of course, you couldn't always tell about people by their looks.

Raquel didn't go with them into the playroom, but Neko knew she'd be listening and would rush in if there was any difficulty. She could be quite the mother hen at times.

Pipit closed the door behind her and said, "Andrew is in a polyamorous relationship. He's got two slaves, and he gets to fuck them both."

"They're not both my slaves, quite," said Andrew. "Emily is my slave and lover, and Amanda is Emily's slave and lover. I don't have as strong a relationship with Amanda, but she and I play and have sex sometimes, and she considers herself my slave."

Neko thought that sounded beautiful, but before she could say so, Pipit said, "It's kind of an unstable situation. As the only Dominant who's not also a submissive, it's up to Andrew to maintain the family hierarchy and make sure he stays on top. You never know when you're with two women," she said, smiling. "They might be more into each other than into you. They might even be planning a coup."

Neko thought she was probably joking. Maybe Andrew thought so too, because he was smiling as he said, "So when we play, I'd better fix things so you two can't plot against me."

"You probably should," said Pipit, still smiling.

It seemed to Neko that if anyone was conspiring, it was Pipit and Andrew. "We'd better talk about limits," she said.

This brought them all down to earth a bit, and they talked about the kinds of play they liked and what they couldn't do. Neko was struck by how complementary her and Pipit's kinks were - she loved physical pain but couldn't take much humiliation, while Pipit loved humiliation and had a limited tolerance for pain. Neko was glad to bleed, but couldn't stand watersports; Pipit could tolerate piss play, but couldn't bear the thought of being made to bleed.

Pipit said to Andrew, "Have you ever caught your two slaves having sex together?"

"Oh yeah," he said. "They don't try to hide it. In fact, they sometimes start playing right in front of me as a way of seducing me."

That sounded like lots of fun to Neko, but Pipit said, "They're manipulating you. Sex should happen when you choose. Do you punish them for that?"

"I haven't," said Andrew. "What I've done is take over the play. They like that."

"It's not about what they like," said Pipit. "It's about your authority. What do you think about this as a game? I'll pretend to be your slave, and Neko can pretend to be my slave. Okay?"

Andrew thought for a second, and said, "Okay, but make it the other way around. Neko will be my slave, and you'll be hers."

"Okay," said Pipit. "You catch us having sex, and we try to make you join us. How do they do that?"

Andrew said, "Emily says, 'Fuck us, Master?' It's kind of cute."

"Okay, Neko will say that, and you can take it from there. Does that sound like fun?"

"Yeah," said Andrew.

"Okay," she said. "Why don't you go out, wait about a minute, and come back in. You can use anything you find in the closet, as long as you respect both our limits."

"Okay," Andrew said, and left the room.

Neko said, "Are you sure you know what you're doing, sweetie?"

"Don't worry," Pipit said. "This'll be fun. You're my Mistress now. What're you going to do with me?"

"Lie down on the mat," Neko said, "and I'll show you."

Neko had hardly a dominant bone in her body, but she knew how to top, and she knew what Pipit liked. Neko knelt beside her, kissed her briefly, climbed on top of her, and sat down heavily on her face. She had only a few seconds to enjoy the sensation of Pipit's tongue probing into her slit before Andrew came in and stood watching them with an amused expression on his face. She loved being looked at, and her arousal instantly doubled.

Neko looked at Andrew and said, rocking on Pipit's mouth, "Ooh, I love it so when baby eats me out. I just love to smash her pretty face with my hot cunt. She's got such a sweet tongue - she makes me so wet!" It was porno patter, but it was the truth, too: Neko hardly had to look at Pipit to get wet. "Fuck us, Master? We need a cock so bad!"

Andrew frowned and said, "The Master decides when it's time to fuck. Get up, you." He grabbed Neko's arm above the elbow and hauled her to her feet. She liked his strength and decisiveness. Her body hummed with excitement.

He said, "Now what am I going to do with you? You were having sex without permission, and then you tried to manipulate me."

Pipit sat up and started to cry. "I'm sorry, Master," she said. Neko was impressed: Pipit was just as convincing now as she was when she was really upset. When Andrew let go of her, she sat beside Pipit and gave her a hug.

Andrew went to the closet, and Neko watched warily as he rummaged for a few minutes, picking up toys and setting them down again. Finally he came back with two large, gleaming stainless steel hooks and lots of rope.

"Lie down, both of you, on your stomach," he said. He frog-tied them both, calves to thighs, and he tied their arms behind their backs. They had lain down facing the same way, but now he picked Pipit up and turned her around so each girl's head was near the other's feet, and their asses were side by side. He put them close enough together that their bodies touched.

Neko whined with excitement as Andrew lubricated first Pipit's anus and then hers. She loved anal hooks. She didn't like messing with long hair, but she kept hers long enough to make a ponytail just so her Dominants could tie a hook to it, forcing her to hold her head up. She was eager to find out what Andrew was going to do with the two hooks.

The hooks had sizable balls on the end where a fishhook or towing hook would have a point. It hurt deliciously being pushed into her ass. Neko squirmed a little, enjoying the pain, but Pipit moaned when Andrew inserted her hook, and her moan was like a stab wound for Neko. He tied a short length of rope onto a long one to make it end in a Y, and he tied the two short ends onto the loops at the ends of the anal hooks. Then he looped the long end of the rope over a hook in the ceiling, led the end over to a hook on the wall, and tied it tightly there. The hook pulled in Neko's ass, but not quite enough to cause real pain. It seemed Pipit didn't find it painful either, because she sighed and stirred. When she moved, though, Neko felt her own hook move inside her.

Andrew said, "If you move, the rope will get tighter and the hook will pull and start to hurt. I'd stay still if I were you." He sat and watched.

The two girls lay still, but it wasn't interesting: soon Neko wanted more stimulation. She tried squirming a bit so she could feel the hook, and when she did, Pipit squirmed too and said, "Ooh, I like it, baby."

Andrew said, "No talking. I'll gag you if you talk."

They both stayed quiet. After a little while, Andrew went to the closet and came back with a wand vibrator, which he plugged into the wall and turned on. Neko hoped he'd use it on her first, but it was Pipit who started to writhe, and cried, "No, stop, Master!"

Andrew snapped the vibrator off and said, "I told you not to talk." Pipit sobbed quietly as he went back to the closet and returned with two ball gags and two marbles. He put one marble into Neko's right hand and one into Pipit's and said, "Let go of the marble for a safe gesture." Then he put on the ball gags.




Pipit Ch. 07



Neko loved ball gags. She loved the way her jaw muscles got sore after a while and her mouth watered, making puddles of drool on the floor under her. She clutched her marble hard and felt her mouth fill up. Then Andrew turned on the vibrator, and a second later he was holding it firmly against her clit. She knew this kind of torment well - she'd even done it to herself - it was like a jackhammer pounding her pussy, instantly sending her body screaming past arousal into torture. She loved the vibrator but was desperate to get away, and she was able to squirm and move a bit, but of course Andrew pressed even harder, and when she moved, the hook in her ass pulled more, and Pipit moaned beside her as her hook pulled too.

The rope had gotten a little slack: Andrew went to the wall and tightened it, saying, "Neko's movements are hurting you, Tosatsu. Is that any way for a Mistress to treat her slave?" Then he came back and used the vibrator on Pipit, who screeched and wriggled, pulling hard on Neko's hook, which seemed to be sinking deeper into her and causing serious pain.

Neko moved restlessly, trying to ease the pain a little, but everything she did just made the hook go deeper and pull harder. Andrew said, "Tosatsu is hurting you, Neko. That's no way for a slave to treat her Mistress."

This was a game, and Neko liked it, but still she worried. Pipit didn't love pain and couldn't take as much of it as she could: how was she holding up? Neko didn't like the way Andrew had turned her around so she couldn't meet Pipit's eyes. She liked the ball gag, but she didn't like not being able to talk to Pipit. She wanted to be able to check on her and make sure she was all right. It didn't seem right that she couldn't.

Andrew went back and forth between the two women, occasionally tightening the rope, until Neko felt she was being hoisted like a side of beef. She imagined that soon the hook would tear out of her, ripping her apart, and the vibrator would drive her over some edge she'd never known was there. She heard Pipit whimpering softly beside her. She was just starting to think about safe gesturing for Pipit's sake, or maybe for fear of actual injury, when Andrew turned off the vibrator, loosened the rope, and carefully extracted the hooks.

Andrew set Neko up on her knees. Unable to steady herself with her hands, she felt off balance and precarious. Andrew took off her gag. Then he unzipped, pulled his hard cock out, and held her with one hand behind her neck.

"Open," he said, and shoved into Neko's mouth.

As much as Neko loved pain, she was businesslike about sex: she liked it, but did it without a lot of passion. It wasn't the cock in her mouth that got her off, though she liked the way this one forced its way through the narrow passage into her throat. And it wasn't the violence of the man fucking her face, though she liked the way Andrew pulled her sharply into him and hammered her deep inside. It was a lover's authority that turned her on - when she could feel it in the hands gripping her head or the fingers wound into her hair, sense it in the thrust of his cock, see it in his face as he gazed at her, appreciating her pain.

Andrew had at least some authority, but what made this face-fuck special, what really wound her up, was feeling the sympathy, a sort of warm aura, that radiated from Pipit, just visible at the edge of her field of vision, bound and gagged on the floor. Neko imagined her yearning to speak to her and touch her: what must she feel, being unable to comfort her friend? Pipit's presence and Andrew's enjoyment of her pain had her so turned on, she thought her pussy must be dripping. She protested with a whine when Andrew pulled out of her, replaced her gag, and lay her back on the floor.

He set Pipit on her knees, removed her gag, and face-fucked her the way he had Neko, who watched his cock penetrate her lovely mouth, watched her gag and drool, and ached with the same sympathy she'd sensed coming from her friend before. She longed so to touch her! Or how delicious it would be if she were lying under Pipit, licking her pussy while she sucked his cock. Neko wanted to be in the scene. She'd always loved being bound and gagged, but right now it was such a frustration, just lying here watching Andrew hammer Pipit's throat.

It was even more frustrating when Andrew pulled out of Pipit, replaced her gag, and tossed her face down and crosswise over Neko's body, belly against her mound. Pipit lay moaning and squirming with desire while he stripped and pulled on a condom.

Neko could only just see how Andrew fucked her. She could feel it, though, Pipit's body jarring hers as he rammed her, one hand on her neck, her braid wound around the other. Neko lifted her head to look, and Pipit glanced at her just once before Andrew seized her by the jaw and forcibly turned her head away. He said, "You're distracting each other." He got up, went back to the closet, and returned with two blindfolds, which he tied on quickly.

Neko could hear Pipit's soft whimpering and the slap of flesh against flesh - then after a couple of minutes a sharp cry. She protested behind her gag: what was Andrew doing to her?

Then she felt herself picked up roughly and thrown down over something soft - she must be lying across Pipit's body the way Pipit had across hers. Her cheek was pressed against the floor, and Andrew's cock was penetrating her pussy. He thrust harder and held her hair as he had Pipit's, making her gasp and arch her back. He felt good in her, hard and cruel, and she liked the way he was pulling her hair with one hand and holding her down with the other - Pipit writhed under her.

Then Andrew abruptly pulled out of her, yanked her onto her knees, tore off her gag, and thrust into her mouth again. She could feel the condom was gone now. It only took a few strokes for him to fill her mouth with cum, and then he said, "Kiss your slave," and held her with an arm around her neck and a hand in her hair, forcing her head down so her lips touched Pipit's. She enjoyed one long, sloppy, viscous kiss as the warm cum slid from her mouth into Pipit's. Then Andrew pulled her away from her friend, lay her on the floor, and replaced her gag.

That's it, she thought. He's done. But he wasn't, quite. She heard a gasp as Andrew did something to Pipit - pulled her to her knees, Neko guessed, and said, "Open wide, toilet slave."

Neko was glad she couldn't see what was going to happen next.

* * *

Emily dropped her marble, giving it a little flick with her fingers so it would travel farther and clack louder when it hit the floor. She thrashed about and made incoherent noises around her ball gag.

"Why the safe gesture?" Andrew said. "I'm not doing anything to you."

"Ungh! Ungh!" said Emily, making it as insistent as she could, thrashing again. She thought she must look like a fish flopping around on the bottom of a rowboat.

Andrew sighed, turned away from Amanda, and bent down to undo Emily's ball gag and remove her blindfold.

"What is it?" he said.

"You don't get to do that," she said. "She's not your toilet slave."

"She's not objecting," said Andrew, gesturing towards Amanda, who was kneeling, upright and naked, a few feet away. Even with a blindfold, she looked terrified.

"Untie me," Emily said. "Untie both of us. This scene's done."

"I don't think it's done."

"I used the safe gesture. Here, I'll safeword, too. Satis. Enough. Now it's fucking done. Untie me."

Reluctantly, Andrew untied Emily. She stretched her arms and legs as he untied 

Amanda, who scuttled over to Emily and pressed against her, as if for protection.

"You didn't mind, did, you, Amanda?" Andrew said.

"No, Master Andrew, but Emily said . . ."

"Emily says," said Emily, "that before you do something like pee in the mouth of my toilet slave, we have to talk it through, and if Amanda says it's all right, and I say it's all right, that's when it's all right. You don't get to just do it."

"Why not?" Andrew said. "If you belong to me and she belongs to you, why doesn't she, as your property, also belong to me?"

Emily was exasperated. They'd settled this back in June without any argument: why was it coming up now? "We put it in the contract. Have you forgotten? Do we have to pull it out and read it together? You have no rights over Amanda except what I give you. And I haven't given you this right. And what was this scene all about, anyway? It was weird. It was no fun."

"I thought you'd like it. I thought it would be clarifying."

"What needed clarifying?" Emily was incredulous.

"Our hierarchy," Andrew said. "The way our family is organized. Who leads and who follows."

"We all know who leads and who follows here. Do you think either of us has a problem with you as our Master? I chose you for my Master, and so did Amanda. But she and I have a relationship too. This felt like you didn't want us to have that - like if the three of us played, Amanda and I could play with you, but not with each other. Like we were both just objects for you, not entitled to our own desires and needs."

"That's the way I wanted it tonight," said Andrew stonily.

"Well, I didn't like it. You seem to be good at finding my triggers lately. This is one: interfering in my relationship with Amanda. I told you that was off limits, and you agreed. I'm holding you to it."

Andrew stared at her blankly. She couldn't read him. She had no idea where these strange new ideas of his were coming from: he'd called her horrible, degrading things, had deliberately made her safeword - the first time since the day they'd gotten back together, when she'd challenged him to do it - and now wanted to piss in Amanda's mouth. He'd never wanted to do that before, and Emily was sure Amanda would welcome it - but you were supposed to talk these things out first. You weren't supposed to spring big surprises in the middle of a scene.

"And where do you go when you stay out all night? You know, this isn't that kind of vanilla relationship where you've got to sneak around behind my back. You told me about Asoko, and I said great, I was glad. But I've got to know we're safe. If you do things you don't tell me about, I don't know that. Maybe we'd better go back to condoms for a while, till you start to talk to me."

He still didn't say anything. She could sense his irresolution. He wanted to confide in her, but was afraid it would make him seem weak - another strange idea. She decided she'd try to make him feel strong.

She went to him, laid her hands on his chest, and looked up into his face. "Master," she said, "I'm yours to command. Anything that's within my limits and not prohibited by our contract. Anything. Command me."

He stared at her for a long time. She waited, hoping the crisis was past, feeling nervous.

Finally he said, "You and Mouche go sleep in the other bedroom. We'll talk about this tomorrow." He spun on the ball of one foot and stalked off towards the bathroom.

Emily put her arm around Amanda, and they waited together for their turn in the bathroom. When Andrew had disappeared into the bedroom he usually shared with them, they took their turn.

Emily said, "Are you disappointed I didn't let Master pee in your mouth, baby?"

"You were right to stop him, Emily."

"But you wanted him to."

"Yes, Emily. Was that wrong?"

"No, baby." Emily took a bath towel from the rack, folded it once, and laid it on the floor. "Lie with your head on this," she said.

Amanda lay down, and Emily squatted over her. She remembered the first time she'd peed at Amanda's request - she'd done it in her dog bowl with three other people looking on. It had been almost impossible, she'd been so self-conscious. But since then it had gotten much easier. It was just a matter of remembering how important this was to her slave, who now licked her clean.

Emily raised Amanda to her feet and kissed her lips - this was her way of telling her she wasn't disgusting. Then she said, "Brush your teeth, honey," and they took turns washing up and brushing their teeth.

Usually, when they went to bed together, they snuggled for a while and then made love. But now Amanda sat cross-legged beside Emily, who lay on her side, head propped on one hand, and looked at her.

"I'm worried about you, Emily," said Amanda. "Master Andrew hasn't been nice to you lately."

"He hasn't been all that nice to you either," said Emily.

"But I have you to protect me," said Amanda. "Who'll protect you?"

"I don't know, baby," said Emily. "I guess we'll just have to look out for each other." But Amanda was timid at the best of times, and now she was too scared of Andrew to be much protection to Emily.

Amanda said, "Why isn't he talking, Emily? You're supposed to talk about scenes, all the ways you're going to play, and he used to, but now he doesn't want to."

"I don't know, baby," said Emily. "I think he's talking to somebody, but it isn't me. Not Mistress Ai, either. She wouldn't tell him this crazy stuff."

"Maybe it's the person he's been seeing late at night," said Amanda.

"You're probably right," said Emily. "But who could it be?"

"I don't know." They sat still for a minute, and then Amanda said, "Emily?"

"Hmm, baby?"

"Can I have an orgasm?"

"Yes, baby."

Amanda reached for her pussy, but Emily sat up and said, "No, baby. I want to do it for you tonight." She kissed her slave, laid her down on the bed, and delicately took her clitoral hood between her fingers.

* * *

Daddy was getting tireder and slacker every day. Tonight she had shuffled off to bed, telling them to put themselves in their cages. Pipit was a little sorry - she didn't exactly like having her hands cuffed to the bars of her cage, but she did like being controlled by Daddy. It was nice, though, being able to make love to Neko and cuddle with her on the mat for a while.

Pipit knew that Neko was in love with her - she could tell by the way Neko looked at her, deferred to her, and touched her whenever she could. She liked it that Neko loved her. She didn't think she was in love with Neko, but she really liked her - the two of them had a lot of shared interests, and she was great to talk to and have sex with. Sometimes Pipit was sorry about getting her fired from her job, but really things were better now for both of them. They got to live together and share Daddy, who provided for them and was finding plenty of business for them. Neko was a little depressed about her whoring, but Pipit had thought of something that would cheer her up tonight.

After they'd made love, Pipit turned to her and said, "Listen, honey. I've got something I want to talk to you about. You haven't found anybody to sublet your apartment yet, right?"

"No," said Neko sadly. "I think I probably didn't advertise enough. I think maybe it was because I couldn't face it."

"Why don't I sublet it?" said Pipit. "I've got a little money put away, and since Daddy takes care of us, I'm hardly spending any of what I make at Mistress Shigemi's. It's a great apartment, the rent is pretty low, and . . . well, it'd be nice to have a place to get away to, for both you and me. We could play there together."

Neko brightened. "That's a wonderful idea!" she exclaimed, and hugged Pipit enthusiastically. "We could nap on the beds," she giggled. Neko wasn't one for complaining, but Pipit knew she didn't love sleeping in a cage.

"It'd be like a secret getaway," said Pipit.

It would be nice to spend time there with Neko. But what Pipit really wanted to do with the apartment was see Andrew. He'd told her the night before, after he'd fucked her and Neko, that he couldn't afford any more sessions. But there was more she needed to do with him - she couldn't let him go yet. Besides, he was fit and good looking, unlike the other men she was fucking these days. Daddy wouldn't let her see him for free, but she could see him at Neko's place. She'd gotten his cell phone number from him. She'd get her own phone the next time she was out and arrange everything.

"It'll be our secret," she said, and reached for Neko's pussy. Neko got more beautiful every time Pipit looked at her: she loved her flat breasts, pointed nose, thin lips, skinny body, bottom and back crisscrossed with scars, and little scars here and there all over. Yes, Neko was definitely better off now. Pipit put her hands on Neko's thighs, parted her legs, and pulled her pussy open like a flower. It was so beautiful. The mound and labia were so often red and welted - she must be sore all the time. Pipit lay between her legs and sank her lips into the hot pink inside of her.

* * *

Andrew got up at four-thirty, showered, dressed, grabbed a bagel from the kitchen, and headed out for the subway. He didn't want to have a conversation about contracts and limits with Emily - not this morning. He was still too agitated. He needed to get off by himself and clear his mind. He'd hole up in Butler Library and think things over till it was time for class.

He found a comfortable chair in one of the reading rooms and settled in with a cup of coffee and the Thebaid. Once the coffee was gone, he put the book aside and tried to think about his life. But life's problems are less tractable than Latin grammar and the simplified human issues of epic poetry. Everything seemed so complicated: thinking about his three-way relationship with Emily and Amanda made him sleepy. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

His phone woke him up at thirteen minutes after eleven.



Pipit Ch. 08



Author's note: Here's Chapter 8 of "Pipit," the story of a beautiful but troubled submissive (also called Tosatsu) and the people in her life, especially her one-time rival, the consensual slave Emily (scene name Famula), Emily's young and naive Master Andrew, Pipit's friend Neko, and Pipit and Neko's "Daddy" Raquel. Pipit works as a professional submissive, and she and Neko are occasional prostitutes.

In a comment on Chapter 7, a reader outed this story as Othello fanfic, with Pipit as Iago, Andrew as Othello, and Emily as Desdemona. In the last couple of chapters, Pipit interfered in Andrew and Emily's relationship by giving Andrew bad advice about his role as a Dominant. Now her advice goes from merely bad to subversive and potentially disastrous. Tags: Bondage, Spreader bar, Belt, Pussy whipping, Safeword, Straight sex, Anal sex, Lesbian sex, Barebacking.

* * *

Chapter 8. No safeword

"I'm so relieved you came," Pipit said, and unbuttoned the top button of her silk blouse, loving the way Andrew was staring at her fingers. "I was scared you wouldn't want to see me."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" he asked, still staring.

"Because, you know, you paid me for sex."

"I paid you for being a submissive. It's skilled labor."

"It didn't feel right to take your money," Pipit said, "the way I felt about you. I can't bear the thought of you giving me any more money."

Sitting in the living room of Neko's apartment, Andrew didn't say anything to that. He seemed mesmerized by her opening her blouse, but she could sense below the surface his doubt, confusion, and guilt, all jumbled together. She saw that the things she was making him feel tormented him, and part of him wanted to flee, but he was a prisoner of his lust for both sex and power. His emotions were so immense and painful! She was getting drunk on them.

She unbuttoned another button. "Daddy mustn't know I'm seeing you," she said. "She'd beat me horribly, nothing like our playtime whipping. Promise me you won't tell."

"I won't," he said hoarsely.

"And I'm not trying to take you away from Emily," Pipit said. "I want to help you make your relationship with her stronger." She watched his face as she unbuttoned the last button and peeled back the blouse. She wore no bra, but had on form-fitting black pants that revealed narrow strips of skin where they laced up the sides. She'd leave the pants on for now, to tease him. Beyond that, she didn't have a plan. She just knew how she wanted to feel when it was all done, and how she wanted him to feel.

She made her voice tiny and kittenish. "But you're so overpowering," she said; "Don't you have a little of that power left over for me?" She went to her knees in front of him and reached for his belt buckle. "I need you to overpower me, Master." She unzipped his zipper, unsnapped his pants, and pulled them down, freeing his cock and balls. She took his shaft in her right hand and held it up as she leaned forward and drew his balls into her mouth.

She sucked them and stroked his cock, looking up to watch the lust grow in his face. "I need you so," she murmured into his balls. "I need you to fuck me."

She licked his whole length, from the balls to the head of his cock, down again, and back. She looked into his eyes and whispered to the head of him, "Will you fuck me, Master?" Already knowing the answer - he was here, after all - she kissed his slit and let him watch her draw him into her so slowly it had to be torture: just the very tip, then her lips widening around the head, pausing to tease the sensitive underside with her tongue, then slowly, slowly pushing forward, making his pale shaft disappear between her lips, closing her tongue and palate tight around him. Then the head of his cock was in her throat, and her lips were in his pubic hair, and she knew her power over him was growing with every second, his resistance dissolving.

"I'm not your Master," he said weakly.

Sliding a hand under his shirt to caress his stomach, she sucked him harder and deeper for an answer. He'd give in to her, and he would be her Master, in just seconds now - she could feel it in his cock and in his skin under her hands. When she felt his body relax and knew there was no more resistance in him, she let his cock slide out of her and kissed her way down to his balls.

"Master," she whispered. "Fuck me."

"Yes," he breathed.

"Bareback," she went on. "I'm safe - I have my labs in my purse if you want to see."

"No, it's okay," he said, and she sighed with relief inside. It would have been awkward if he'd wanted to see it - she hadn't been tested since January and never kept her lab reports anyway.

"Master?" she said timidly.

"Yes, Tosatsu?" he said.

"I want you to make me helpless."

"What do you have?" he asked. "Rope? Cuffs?"

"I'll see," she said. "We've got to use my roommate's stuff." She went to Neko's room, rummaged in her drawers, and found two cuffs and a bottle of lubricant, but no rope. She looked in the closet, but there was only clothing there. She was about to give up when she got the idea of looking under the bed. There she found a little collection of wonderful things: shackles, chains, plastic tubs full of clamps, vibrators, gags, dildos, and butt plugs - and, most inspiring, a spreader bar with ankle cuffs on either end and two wrist cuffs in the middle.

One of the butt plugs was crystal, luscious and pink. She peeled her pants down, lubricated herself and the plug, and eased it in. She dried her hands on the bedspread and pulled her pants up again.

She took the bar and a ball gag back to the living room. She handed the bar to Andrew and said, "I've been a very bad girl, Master. I need to be punished."

"How've you been bad, Tosatsu?" he asked.

"Don't call me Tosatsu, Master," she said. "Call me . . . slut. All the things you called me when I was that girl Becky - slut, whore, worthless cunt - I'm those things. I need you to punish me for being those things."

Needy and hot, she gazed into his eyes, put the ball gag into her mouth, and reached behind her to fasten the strap, raising her elbows up high to make her breasts rise towards him. Then she wriggled out of her tight pants, and since he might not know what to do with the bar, got down on her knees, rested her shoulders and one cheek on the floor, and extended her arms straight back under her, between her legs.

Pipit loved the way her pussy and ass with the plug were exposed to Andrew's gaze. She loved the way he had to bend down close to her bottom to fasten the bar and cuffs. The plug would tell him what she wanted him to do to her. When he was finished, her ass was high, she couldn't straighten her body, and she felt wonderfully vulnerable and scared.

There was a pause - he had to be undressing - and then he pressed something into her right hand. She closed her fingers around it - it was a set of keys. Andrew said, "Your safe gesture. Drop these and I'll hear."

She felt safer, and her fear subsided a little. But no! The intensity of the moment was draining away. On an impulse, she opened her fingers, turned her hand, and let the keys fall to the floor.

"What's this?" Andrew said. "Safe gesturing already?" He bent down and unfastened the gag. He was naked - she could see his erection. He said, "Do you want me to release you?"

"No safeword or safe gesture," she said. "I want your power over me to be absolute. I want to be helpless when you punish me." She knew very well how stupid this was. It was insanely risky. Her fear was coming back: her head was swimming with it.

"Your limits?" he said.

"I trust you to respect them," she said. "I need you to do what you want with your slut."

"Very well," he said, and replaced the gag. She heard him pick up the keys, and they jingled as - she supposed - he put them back in a pocket.

Now she'd done it. There was no turning back. Her body tensed with fear. But what could he do? This wasn't a playroom with a closet full of whips: he had just his bare hands and his cock, and she longed for them both.

But when the first blow came it wasn't a hand - the pain was hot and sharp. Oh, fuck, she thought, how could she have forgotten his belt? Frederick had loved his belt. She'd been terribly afraid of it and had safeworded a couple of times when he'd gotten carried away while using it.

"One," he said.

Now real fear surged in her. She squirmed and said "Ungh!" but couldn't make a word around the gag. Not that she'd have safeworded - the pain wasn't that bad, but it suddenly sank in what it meant that there was nothing in the world she could do to stop this scene.

He hit her again, harder now - a searing stripe of pain across her ass.

"Two," he said.

He was doing it like Daddy, starting hard and building fast. With the realization, her heart missed a beat; then it hammered in her chest, like it was going to burst. Suddenly it was hard to get enough air. She whined behind her gag and squeaked as the next blow came, and he said, "Three." She tried to turn on her side, but couldn't - all she could do was twist her upper body. She tried to crawl away but could move her knees only inches.

Another blow, nearly unbearable - tears welled in her eyes and her nose started to run. Her skin was hot everywhere. He said "Four," and she groaned, but she knew that was just turning him on more - it would make him hit harder. He said "Five" on the downstroke, and it was like a wildfire burning through her body, from her ass through her pussy, belly, and breasts, up to her face. She could smell her own sweat. She could lift her head an inch or two, and she tried to look around to show him the fear in her face, but couldn't move her head enough to meet his eyes.

He said "Six" and swung the belt, and she screamed behind her gag. She could hear his breath heavy and rasping, sense the excitement in him - she knew he was too aroused to stop now. When he said "Seven" she would have safeworded if she could have - the hot pain was swallowing her up. She knew she'd die if he hit her again. But he said "Eight" and hit her, and she didn't die - her body trembled, and her mind started to wander away from herself, the pain farther off even as it became more present.

He said "Nine," and she could sense his whole weight behind the blow. It was beyond endurance, what he was doing - she could scarcely even scream now, but just made a continuous low groan, wishing she could talk to beg, to offer him anything - she'd break any limit, he could kill her, if only he'd turn off the pain.

He said "Ten" and gave her one more slashing blow, like holding a blowtorch to her backside. He paused then, and terror rushed in to fill the space where the pain had been - he might start again, or do some other more horrible thing she hadn't thought of. 

But he said, "Your ass is so beautiful red," and kissed one ass cheek with lips that were hot on her raw skin. She writhed as he kissed the other cheek - how could a kiss hurt like that? He slowly pulled out the butt plug - the sensation as her sphincter contracted around it was so good! And then he plunged his face into her crack, his tongue cool and soothing in her anus, and so sexy, after her great agony, that she felt her pussy run and drip. How she wished she could touch herself! Noticing that she'd made two tight fists, she flexed her fingers.

He lingered a long time in her crack before he stopped, put a hand on her pussy, and stroked her gently. "You're wet," he said. "You liked the whipping, then, slut?"

No! In an instant her pleasure became terror, her heart hammered again, and her breathing got hard and fast. She tried to crawl away again, but could scarcely move. His hand was gone, and something hard caressed her pussy - the belt! Even Frederick had never whipped her pussy with a belt. She'd have safeworded now if she could have, just from the fear.

"I know you liked it," he said softly. "I can tell you want more. Five more." The first blow was light, hardly more than a touch, but it still stung the open and engorged folds of her pussy and delivered an enormous charge of painful stimulation to her clit. She gave a muffled scream again. He stepped over her and straddled her body for a better angle, and when he brought the belt down again, it landed flat with a slap, and stung from her clit up to her anus. She screamed again - even Daddy didn't paddle her pussy this hard. But she knew he couldn't stop - oh, she'd made him into this monster! - and when the belt came down again, she heard it swish, and the loud snap of it was swallowed up in the pain that blasted up through her body and exploded behind her eyes.

"Two more now," he said, and she screamed even before the blow came down. She couldn't take it - her body gave a great spasm in her bonds, and something detonated deep in her chest - she thought it must be her heart exploding. But she felt its pounding as the pain faded, and knew she was alive - but for how long? He said, "One more," and she whimpered and waited for the blow that would finally kill her.

But the last blow was a caress, the belt drawn just lightly across clit, slit, and anus. She wondered if he hadn't hit her all that hard, really - maybe it was the fear that had hurt most. He said, "My sweet slut," and bent over and licked her again, a long, soothing lick from her ass, deep through her slit, all the way to her swollen and painful clit. She felt the panicky energy drain away, and she whimpered again, but with longing this time. It was balm, it was heaven, he licked her pain away, and then his lips plunged into her liquid folds, and he sucked her clit hard and overwhelmed her again with sensation. How she needed him to fuck her!

And he did. He stepped around behind her, and finally his cock penetrated her, his naked flesh in her pussy - she hadn't been fucked bareback since she'd left Daniel and Karen, and the pleasure of his skin stimulating her sensitive vagina was as refreshing as the belt had been horrible.

He held her hips and fucked her, thighs slapping against her raw ass - the pain with the pleasure making her weak. He said, "Such a beautiful slut - my perfect cunt," and she was thrilled that he'd said "my perfect cunt." With every passing second his control of her grew, he owned her more, and in time, she knew, he'd need what she was giving him - nothing but absolute power over a woman's body would satisfy him.

He pulled out of her, and then there was a light pressure on her anus, and a little more, and a sudden thrust that made her gasp. It was a pain she knew and loved, the pressure, the stretching, the feel of skin sliding into her tight hole, her own muscles reflexively straining against this intruder before surrendering to the sensation. She made a kittenish noise down in her throat, and her body twitched as his cock stabbed into her, harder all the time till he had to grab her braid and hold it to keep from pushing her along the floor with his thrusts. She closed her eyes and let herself feel her helplessness, her vulnerability, and this boy's greenness. He could so easily hurt her badly without even meaning it.

He came in spasms, deep in her ass, and pulled out of her slowly. He released her hands and ankles and removed her gag. He picked her up and carried her to the sofa, where he held her on his lap.

She nestled against his chest, feeling sore and needy, and said, "Am I really your perfect cunt, Master?"

"It wasn't nice to call you a cunt: I shouldn't have done it," he said.

"I want to be your slut and your cunt," she said. "Can your cunt have an orgasm, Master?"

"You may. How do you want your orgasm?"

"Master can decide. Either do it or tell me what to do."

"Masturbate," he said. "But don't come till I tell you."

Pipit put one hand between her legs and touched herself. Her pussy was sore inside and out, so she touched herself gingerly. Even so it hurt, but the pain was stimulating, and her arousal grew.

He kissed her and reached for her pussy, brushing her hand aside. His kiss became hotter, his tongue more insistent, and his fingers slid painfully into her dampness. She touched her clit and stimulated herself as he finger-fucked her, and she felt him grow under her.

She wanted his cock but was afraid there would be shit on it. She wondered if she dared to suck it, but Master decided for her, shoving her onto the floor and saying "Suck me, cunt!" She took his cock in her hand and leaned in close to it. It wasn't so bad, and she decided she could do it. She put his cock in her mouth quickly and sucked him, rubbing her pussy: the pain and stimulation helped her ignore the fear till her mouth's wetness had washed him clean. She let her saliva run out of her, around his cock and over his balls.

Her need was unbearable, but he was slow to come, and she knew he wouldn't let her come till he'd had his own orgasm. She sucked him urgently, willing him to fill her mouth up, and meanwhile edged herself, fingers sliding in her slick pussy, then pausing, then moving again, till she was half mad with need.

Finally his body tensed and his cum pumped over her tongue. She let it slide into the back of her mouth till it triggered the swallowing reflex; then she held his cock in her mouth while she rubbed herself hard, body twitching with the pain of it - so close to orgasm.

She gazed into his eyes with longing, waiting for him. He stared back - why did he take so long? It couldn't have been more than a minute, but the wait was agony.

Finally he said, "Now, slut," and she came with the word "slut" ringing in her ears, a long and intense orgasm. She let his cock slip out of her mouth.

She rested her head on his knees and cried. She knew she shouldn't, he had to be puzzled, but she couldn't help herself. She was poison, and it was horrible, what she was doing. She hated herself. But what emotions Andrew had had, drunk on the vast power she'd given him! What feelings she'd had, too, so helpless, so fearful, so panicky! What love Neko felt, and what sadistic pleasure she was giving her exhausted Daddy! She'd never lived with as much intensity as she was doing right now, and she knew she couldn't give it up, not till somebody stopped her or she'd destroyed herself and everyone in her life.

A few minutes later, Pipit lay on the sofa with her head in Andrew's lap. He stroked her belly and said, "I don't want to go."

"You have to go back to Emily. That's where you belong," she said. "But you're my Master, and I'm your slave. Give me a command, and I'll follow it till we're together again."

"Okay," he said. "Don't come till you're with me again."

"Yes, Master," she said, and for that one moment really believed she'd obey.

* * *

Emily looked marvelous in her black T and shorts, rose vine climbing her neck, ring in her right nostril. The only piercing Pipit had ever had done was her ears - the idea of being pierced anywhere else was scary, and when she thought of the tattoo needle she got a little faint. She'd always told herself her skin was so perfect it needed no more adornment, but now she wondered if it was that or simple fear that explained her aversion to tattoos and piercings. Strange to be afraid of needles, considering what she'd let Andrew do to her just two days before.

The waitress brought their coffees and croissants. "I used to hate your tattoo," said Pipit, "but now I really like it. I like your ring, too."

"Thanks," said Emily.

"Do you have any other piercings?" Pipit asked.

"Left nipple and clitoral hood," said Emily.

"Those are such scary places," said Pipit, shivering a little. "Did they hurt?"

"Not too bad," said Emily. "Even a non-masochist could take it. And the feeling when somebody plays with them is amazing."




Pipit Ch. 08



Pipit thought she'd like to have that feeling. She also wanted to see Emily's other rings, but she wasn't about to ask.

"I wish I could feel that," Pipit said, "but I get woozy whenever I think about anything breaking my skin. I passed out when I got my ears pierced. I was just thirteen. If my mother hadn't been there, it wouldn't have gotten done at all."

"We're entitled to our squicks," said Emily. "I've never gotten over being afraid of spiders."

She seemed a little wary: Pipit wanted to put her at ease. She laughed and said, "But I'm afraid of spiders, too!"

Emily laughed and relaxed a little. "It's okay to not want a tattoo. But if you were curious, you could start with just a little one. I got a little one, the word 'slave' in white on my thigh. I was probably crazy to just go ahead and get a great big one after that. My poor parents were totally bewildered by it."

"My parents are really conservative," Pipit said. "Serious church people and all that. They have no idea what I'm into, or what I do for a living. They'd disown me if they found out."

"They say it's easier to come out to your parents as gay than to come out as kinky," said Emily.

Pipit said, "I can't even imagine telling them I'm bi."

"Mine are really liberal," Emily said. "Sometimes I wish they weren't - it's a little tiresome when everything you do is okay. Anyway, I think they've sort of figured out the bi thing. They know I'm living with a woman and a man in a two-bedroom apartment. They hint around that they know what our arrangement is. They keep angling to get me to confide in them so they can have the satisfaction of approving, you know."

"What do you think they'd freak about most, if they found out you were kinky?"

"Well, having a toilet slave is like the last thing I'd ever tell them."

Pipit laughed. "If I ever want to kill my parents outright, I'll tell them about my three weeks as a toilet slave. How's Mouche, by the way? Did you tell her I was sorry about how I treated her?"

"I did," Emily said. "She said it was nice of you to say that. She really is happy, you know."

"And how about you?" said Pipit. "It's not your kink, is it? Having a human toilet?"

"Not really," said Emily. "It's a thing I'm willing to do for her."

"I'll bet Karen would love to get her back."

"Daniel actually called me a couple of weeks ago and said exactly that," said Emily. "When I brought it up to Amanda, she said she'd never go. I think it's more about staying with me than being mad at Karen and Daniel. Amanda doesn't hold grudges."

"So I guess you've got a toilet slave whether you want one or not," said Pipit.

"She's sweet and easy to have around. I love her. Just don't tell my parents what we get up to in the bathroom."

"So would you tell them about the rest?"

"I don't think so. They'd go crazy with anxiety about me getting hurt. I can almost hear them now. They'd be like, 'Are you sure it's safe, you know, being tied up and whipped?'"

"You could explain to them about safewords," Pipit said.

"And they'd stay up at night wondering if Andrew could be trusted to stop when he heard a safeword."

"Some people play without safewords," said Pipit. "You know, like trusting your partner so much you let him ignore you when you say no."

"Aren't they mostly the ones who've been married for like decades and played the same way the whole time? Andrew asked me if I'd ever consider playing without a safeword, and I told him to ask again in twenty years."

Pipit laughed. "That was a good answer. What did he say?"

Emily's smile faded a little. "He didn't say anything. He just went back to his book."

"You shouldn't ever let anybody pressure you into playing without a safeword," said Pipit seriously. "Tell me you won't ever do that."

"I won't," said Emily. "You sound like maybe you have."

"Once," said Pipit. "I let myself be tied up and gagged, and I didn't have a safe gesture. I thought I was going to die like five times before the scene was done. I could've died, too. It's really dangerous. Just don't ever do it, okay?"

"I never will," said Emily.

The memory of the powerful fear she'd felt playing with Andrew was making Pipit wet. In a few days she'd play with him again. She'd do it without a safeword - she just had to - and she was already terrified. Emily was making her wet, too. Pipit wanted to kiss her pierced places. She wanted to confide in Emily and tell her every terrible thing she'd done. She pictured herself tied to a cross, gagged, without safeword or safe gesture, Emily standing there with a whip and a murderous look in her eye. She blushed and said, "I have to go to the ladies. I'll be right back."

* * *

Neko knew Pipit could never be a Dominant, not like Raquel, but she was deferring to her friend more and more as time went on, and Pipit usually topped when they made love. Right now, at their secret apartment, Pipit was giving her a wonderful treat, biting her thighs, breasts, and arms, leaving little bruises here and there on Neko's body. Later, Neko would spend time admiring them in the bathroom mirror. She'd think, "Those are Pipit's bruises." She got lots of bruises from Raquel, but she didn't feel the same way about them. One little bruise from Pipit was better than two big ones from Raquel.

Right now Pipit was teasing Neko's pussy, raking her parts lightly with her teeth and delivering tiny bites to clit and labia. It was divine, all the more so because a client had given Neko's pussy a good paddling just last night, and she was very sensitive there.

Pipit was teaching Neko to be alive to the emotional qualities of scenes and sex in a way she hadn't been before - being natively better at logical problem-solving than at reading moods. There was a difference between a bite given her for her own pleasure and one given for the sadistic pleasure of the top. She valued both - she got off on the selfishness of a good Dominant - but she got wetter from a bite given with love.

With Pipit's guidance, she'd even learned to read the emotional state of Raquel, who had at first seemed to her pretty much always the same. But when Raquel called Neko to the playroom, Pipit might whisper "Look out, she's in a bad mood," or "She's been really loving today," and sure enough, Neko would notice a sharp edge or a softness to Raquel's sarcasm and insults that day, and a lesser or greater attentiveness to her, and the play would feel different too. Pain wasn't just pain: it was better when you were feeling connected to your top.

A moment like this with Pipit was always special: she'd alternate bites with tender kisses and licks; she'd pause to give Neko's pussy a little spank, which somehow always felt bigger than it really was; and always there was that wonderful sense of connection, a special empathy between the two of them, as if their bodies and brains were wired together.

Neko had a lovely gentle orgasm, and after she'd had a minute to rest, Pipit said, "Eat me, honey." Neko loved the gentle but commanding way Pipit said "Eat me," and she liked the way she called her "honey" - there was something proprietary about it that made her feel safe.

Today Neko sensed tension and reserve in Pipit, as if she had something on her mind. Pipit wasn't often distracted this way: it worried Neko. She fingered Pipit's ass and then rimmed her, a thing that usually got her attention, but still she seemed just half there. Neko was able to give her an orgasm, and that relaxed her a little, but the tension soon returned.

So when they lay together afterwards, Pipit on her back, Neko turned towards her with an arm and a leg over her and said, "You're tense, sweetie. What is it?"

"Nothing, honey," said Pipit. "I'm fine."

"I know you too well, Pipit," Neko said. "I know when there's something going on. You were gone like half the day on Tuesday. I'll bet you were right here, weren't you?"

Pipit didn't say anything.

"Who were you with? It was that Andrew, wasn't it? I wish you wouldn't see him alone, sweetie. He's naive and dangerous. I'm so scared he'll hurt you."

Pipit turned onto her side, away from Neko, who pressed her body against her friend's back, reached around her, and stroked her mound.

Neko whispered in her ear. "I love you, sweetie. I'll die if anything ever happens to you." There, she'd said what was in her heart. She didn't know anything else to say, so she waited for her words to sink in.

It was a minute or so before Neko realized that Pipit was crying. She felt the tremor in her body and heard her soft sniffles. She pulled her onto her back, leaned over, and kissed her wet cheek. "Tell me, sweetie. What did he do to you?"

"It hurt so bad," Pipit whispered.

"Tell me," said Neko, allowing just a little edge to creep into her voice.

Pipit told her about barebacking with Andrew, about being restrained and gagged so she couldn't safeword, about how she wanted to safeword but couldn't, and how scared she was that she was going to die. Neko's heart felt like it was freezing as she listened.

"Sweetie, why did you do that?" Neko said. "You know better - you could get killed that way!"

"I'm sorry, honey. I know it was stupid. But you wouldn't believe the things I felt - the helplessness, the fear, the need. I've never felt so dependent on another person, or so turned on."

"If you have to do that, couldn't you at least do it with somebody that like knows what he's doing?"

"It's part of the thrill that he was green, and it was so dangerous."

Neko was crying now with fear and frustration. "Promise you won't do it again. I don't want you to play with this Andrew at all. But if you have to, at least use a safeword. Swear you will!"

"I will," said Pipit. "I swear it."

"And no barebacking, sweetie. You think you can control him, but you can't. He's like in a frenzy: there's no telling who else he might be barebacking with. Promise me you won't do that again."

"Okay," said Pipit. "I promise."

She turned to Neko and kissed her. Her kiss was fervent, her body hot. Neko reached for her pussy and found it wet already. Telling about her scene with Andrew had turned her on.

"Want to borrow my strap-on?" Neko whispered.

"More than anything," said Pipit.

* * *

Another Tuesday afternoon. Pipit was ready with a plan this time - everything had become clear. She waited on the sofa, too nervous to read or watch TV. She was already naked, wearing just a cuff on each wrist and ankle and the crystal butt plug. She held the ball gag in her hand. On the coffee table there was a collection of items: several lengths of chain piled up together, a coiled up leash, a tub full of clothespins, a bottle of lubricant, and several dangerous-looking toys: a paddle, a cat, a riding crop, and a cane.

She fingered the ball gag nervously. Her pussy was hot and tingly.

The buzzer sounded. She ran to the intercom, spoke to Andrew briefly, and buzzed him in. A minute later there was a knock. She opened the door, flung herself into his arms, and kissed him fervently.

When she was done, he stepped in, smiled, and said, "Good. You're all ready. Did you follow my command?"

"No, Master," she said, and burst into tears. "It was an accident. I'm so sorry!"

"How did this accident happen?" he asked, an ominous calm in his voice.

"A client was fucking me," she sobbed, "and I forgot. I'm so sorry, Master!"

"A client was fucking you," he repeated softly. "How many clients have fucked you since last Tuesday?"

"Three, Master. No, two! I'm so sorry!"

"But you only came with the one?"

"I couldn't help it, Master! He was ass-fucking me and calling me a filthy slut, a worthless cunt, and a whore."

"His words turned you on?"

"Yes, Master."

"Why is that?"

"Because they're true. Please, Master. Punish me for coming!"

He took the ball gag from her hand and put it on her. "You're a vile cunt," he said, "and I don't think it's possible to teach you the difference between right and wrong. But maybe I can teach you to obey your Master."

She met his gaze with moist, wide eyes. He went to sit in the chair farthest from the coffee table. "Get on your hands and knees, whore," he said, "and bring me the cane."

She crawled to the table, picked up the cane with her teeth, and brought it to him. She dropped it in his lap.

"Now the chain," he said. It took her several trips to bring him all the chain. He pulled her arms out from under her, making her fall onto her shoulders, and fastened her wrists together behind her back. He fastened her ankles together.

"No safe gesture today, whore?" he asked.

She shook her head as well as she could with her cheek pressed against the floor.

"Then we'd better get started on your punishment," he said, and raised the cane.

* * *

Pipit lay trembling in his arms. She couldn't stop crying. Her bottom and back still burned where he'd beaten her, and her ass hurt because he'd shoved in so roughly with just the little lubricant that was already there. Her nipples and labia were sore from the clothespins. The bitter and acrid taste of his urine lingered in her mouth, and she was terrified of infection because he'd pulled his cock out of her ass and shoved it right into her pussy. He'd insulted and degraded her for two hours, calling her things that were wounding because they were true; she felt she could never be given enough punishment to make her whole again.

But Andrew was radiant with belief in his near-omnipotence: Pipit could feel the happiness like a thousand starbursts inside him. Just a little more, she thought. One last step, and he'd be utterly transformed.

* * *

Late that night, Mouche sat and watched Emily sleep. Master Andrew had demanded that she and Emily let him tie them both up and gag them without giving them a safe gesture. Emily had flatly refused, and they'd had a huge fight, which had ended with Andrew storming off to the bedroom. Emily was too upset even to make love to Mouche, but had said, "I don't know how much longer Andrew and I can stay together."

Mouche thought her heart would break for pity. She was sure Master Andrew was going insane. She was terrified she'd be killed - he was that out of control. But though she thought of herself as far from brave, she now found that her own death was easier to think of than harm to Emily. She resolved that she'd never again allow herself to be restrained by Andrew. She'd make bondage a hard limit. She'd never allow herself to be put in a position where she couldn't fight for her Mistress.

Mouche studied Emily's features - her eyes and nose, chin, breasts, thighs. She'd often asked herself why she loved her Mistress so, but even though she loved every inch of her body, she found no answer to the question in her physical features. What she adored in her Mistress, what made the thought of ever being apart from her unbearable, was on the inside - it was her ability to love a thing like Mouche - a human housefly with the world's most repulsive kink. Mouche had sensed this ability in her the first time she'd seen her, and she'd loved her instantly.

Mouche wanted to creep into her Mistress's arms and feel safe there, but she knew that, for the time being anyway, she, the slave, would have to be the strong one. And she was sure she could be. She'd fight like a tigress before she'd let anything bad happen to Emily.

Mouche's glance fell on a card lying on the nightstand, lettered in a fine calligraphic hand. She picked it up idly and read. It said:





Pipit Ch. 09



Author's note: Here's Chapter 9 of "Pipit," the story of a beautiful but troubled submissive (also called Tosatsu) and the people in her life, especially her one-time rival, the consensual slave Emily (scene name Famula), Emily's young and naive Master Andrew, Pipit's friend Neko, and Neko and Pipit's "Daddy" Raquel. Pipit works as a professional submissive, and she and Neko are occasional prostitutes.

Pipit has been attempting to undermine Emily and Andrew's relationship by seducing Andrew, giving him disastrous advice about how to be a Dominant, and allowing him to act out that advice with her. Surely no good can come of this! But before we get to the catastrophe, let's take the time to have some kinky, dirty fun at Mistress Ai's PYL Ball. As has happened before, this chapter contains references to, but no depictions of, bathroom kinks (near the beginning - you can easily skip that bit). Tags: Bondage, Dildo, Vibrator, Speculum, Straight sex, Lesbian sex, Anal sex, Bondage, Humiliation, Punishment.

* * *

Chapter 9. Mistress Ai's PYL Ball

Of course no one really wore gowns to the ball. They stopped in the sex shop at the front of Mistress Shigemi's, where Inkei was checking invitations. Inkei smiled warmly at Emily, Andrew, and Mouche - who felt a little fluttery, remembering the great quantities of Inkei's semen she'd consumed during her stay with Mistress Ai. She smiled and licked her lips.

"At the PYL Ball," Inkei said, "you can pick any label you want, and be that thing. If you're a slave but want to be a Mistress for the evening, just label yourself and you'll be a Mistress tonight. Maybe some Mistress will want to be your slave. You can switch genders, change your age, become an animal - just write what you want on your body and become that. It's a little like a costume ball, though costumes are entirely optional. Since this is a private, closed party," he said, twinkling at Amanda, "sex is permitted, even encouraged. Mistress Ai asks that everyone play safely."

"It sounds like fun," said Emily brightly.

"Do you get to play, too, Inkei?" asked Mouche, feeling bold.

"I can a little later," he said, "though I'm not going to be anything interesting. Just a fuck-toy. That's how you label yourself when you just want to be available for sex. Asoko, Shita, and I are all fuck-toys tonight."

"I'm a boy," said Mouche shyly.

"That's excellent," said Inkei, smiling warmly. "Did I ever mention that I'm bi?"

"Me too," said Mouche, feeling sort of warm and runny inside.

Inkei said, "There are acrylic markers in the employees' lounge. You can change there, or in the restrooms if you want more privacy. I'll see you soon."

They found their way to the lounge, where Emily and Mouche undressed. They'd decided, with much giggling, that they'd both be men tonight, naked except for strap-on dildos. Emily's harness worked in the usual way, fitting around her hips, while Mouche's was a facial harness with a double dildo, a little one for her mouth and a bigger one outside. It would have been impractical to wear the facial harness all night, so Mouche carried it. She and Emily both wrote "MAN" in large blue letters above their breasts.

Andrew had been quiet about his plans for the ball. He'd been well behaved lately, retreating from the unreasonable demands he'd been making. He'd been playing nicely with Emily and Mouche, and had even been more or less gracious about Mouche's unexpected declaration that bondage was now a hard limit - but he'd been reserved and sometimes not in the mood for play. Now he kept on the slacks and short-sleeved shirt he'd come in, and didn't use the markers.

Mistress Ai had closed Mistress Shigemi's for the evening, both so the Dominants and submissives could attend and so the party could take up all five playrooms. Andrew wandered off while Emily and Mouche, holding hands, toured the playrooms, which they'd never seen before. The rooms weren't crowded yet. They worked their way through the dungeon, the velvet lounge, and the pet shop (where Mouche found herself strangely excited by the sight of the cages) without seeing anyone they knew well enough to talk to. In the examination room they saw Mistress Karen, resplendent in a colorful dress, chatting with Master Daniel and a young blond woman wearing a skimpy white fishnet dress.

Mistress Karen looked up, saw them, and said, "Oh, look! It's Mouche and Famula!" She rushed over, seized both of Mouche's hands in hers, and said, "My dear Mouche! I've been praying you'll forgive an old lady's foolishness - can you forgive me?"

Mouche looked down, feeling confused. She'd been sad when Mistress Karen had turned her out, but somehow it hadn't occurred to her to be angry. Being asked for forgiveness was very strange. But she decided it was all right to say, "Yes, Mistress Karen."

"Let me look at you, dear." Mistress Karen held Mouche at arm's length and gazed into her face. "Still as lovely as ever. Have you been well, dear? Have you been happy?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"How I've missed you! Come say hello to Daniel!"

She shepherded Mouche and Emily over to where Daniel was still talking to the blond girl, who looked familiar now that they were closer.

Daniel kissed both of them on the cheek and said, "You're both looking well. Have you met our friend Anna?"

Emily smiled at Anna and said, "We met a couple of times at your parties, but I never learned her name."

Anna said, "I had a Dominant then who called me babydoll, but we split up last summer."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Emily.

Mistress Karen said, "We tried to make a match with Frederick, but they didn't hit it off."

"I don't think he liked me," said Anna.

"We think he's still pining for you, Famula," said Mistress Karen.

"A number of men are pining for Famula, and some women too," said Daniel.

Anna was looking at Emily with soft and dreamy eyes. "So you're a man tonight," she said.

"Yeah, Amanda and I thought it would be fun to be men and bring strap-ons. What are you?"

"Just a blond bimbo," said Anna, and showed Emily her arm, where she'd written that in hot pink. "In case you couldn't tell from my outfit," she added.

"Anna was wearing panties," said Mistress Karen, "but I persuaded her that going without promotes vaginal health."

"Not to mention a more interesting love life," interjected Daniel.

"Anna is anything but a bimbo," Karen continued. "She's a very accomplished young woman - a Julliard graduate who plays violin for the New York Philharmonic."

"Second violin," she murmured.

"I like blond bimbos," said Emily, smiling warmly. "And I love your dress."

"I like men," said Anna shyly, glancing at Emily's dildo.

"Why don't the two of you run along and play. Mouche, Daniel and I will do some catching up."

"Will you be okay, baby?" asked Emily.

"Okay, Emily," said Mouche, though she was in fact a little scared of Mistress Karen.

Emily and Anna left the room. The moment Emily was out of sight, Mistress Karen seemed an overwhelming presence. She said, "Come talk to me, dear. It's been so long!" Daniel gave her a warm smile as Mistress Karen led her towards one of the examination tables.

"Why don't you hop right up on the table, dear, and put your feet in the stirrups," said Mistress Karen.

Mouche wasn't sure she wanted this, but couldn't think how to refuse. As she got onto the table, Mistress went to a white cabinet and came back with two plastic specula and a tube of lubricant.

"Let's have a look at that lovely cunt," said Mistress, lubricated and inserted a speculum, squeezed the handles together, and locked it open. Excitement started up inside Mouche. Mistress had often played with her this way, and though she didn't love the speculum, she knew where the play always ended up.

Mistress peered into Mouche's vagina and said, "Lovely." She spat into the speculum. "Is Famula taking care of your needs, dear?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress," said Mouche.

"Is she looking out for your health? You must practice proper hygiene, take your medicine . . ."

"Yes, Mistress," said Mouche. "We're both grateful to you for showing me how to take care of myself."

"You can't be too careful," said Mistress. "Some strains of e. coli are resistant to antibiotics." She bent closer to the speculum.

"We're very careful, Mistress," said Mouche. She said this with some difficulty: she was starting to hyperventilate.

"And your diet?" said Mistress. "Plenty of green vegetables? They're very good for the bowels." She withdrew the speculum and put it aside.

"Yes, Mistress."

Mistress raised the stirrups, lubricated the other speculum, and inserted it in Mouche's ass. She massaged Mouche's clit with a thumb as she bent to inspect her anal canal.

"Regular enemas?"

"A few, Mistress," Mouche panted, and instantly felt bad about the lie. She hadn't had a single enema since leaving Mistress Karen.

"I'll speak to Famula about it," said Mistress. "Enemas are essential for anal health." She closed and withdrew the speculum and said, "I've always loved that sweet cunt and ass. Come, dear, let's put on that exciting dildo." She took the facial harness from Mouche and made her sit up.

"I love these dildos," Mistress said as she inserted the small end into Mouche's mouth and fastened the harness behind her head. "Daniel and I both have one. We use them with each other and with special friends. There we are! Now lie on the floor, dear. If I fell off this table at my age, it'd be the end of me."

Mouche slipped off the table and lay on the floor. Her heart pounded - she knew Mistress's body so well, and she had to admit she'd missed it. The dildo was warm and big in her mouth - it made her salivate.

Mistress straddled Mouche's head, facing her feet: Mouche could look up her dress at her big ass and hairy pussy: as usual, she wore no panties. Mistress reached under her dress, fingered herself, and said, "Darling girl, you make me so wet!" She hiked up her dress around her waist and slowly squatted, steadying herself with a hand on Mouche's thigh, till she could reach the dildo, which she carefully inserted into her vagina. Mouche was aroused by the dildo moving in her mouth and by Mistress's smell - pussy, piss, and sweat mingled together. She reached for her crotch and rubbed herself.

Mistress backed up, pushing the dildo further into herself, and then slowly began to move back and forth, sighing "Sweet girl!" Mouche could sense Mistress's excitement build, and she was getting excited too, watching her ample bottom jiggle, feeling her movements growing stronger, the dildo ramming into her with every stroke.

"Oh, sweet baby!" Mistress cried, pushed herself with two hands on Mouche's stomach till her back was upright and she was squatting on the balls of her feet - and then she reached under herself, parted her ass cheeks, and settled her weight on Mouche, whose face was in Mistress's big crack, nose pressed into her anus. Oh, heaven! Mistress rode her, steadying herself with her hands on Mouche's breasts and coming down hard, ramming the dildo into her mouth. The dress fell around Mouche's head like a tent, trapping the delicious, ripe smells.

Mistress's fleshy buttocks, pink anus, and big wet cunt brought back happy memories of quiet days in the great Park Avenue apartment, when Daniel was at work and her beautiful Mistress would call her to the bathroom or the playroom. Mouche would stare with mouthwatering anticipation at her vagina and urethra, dilating moments before the flood, or her anus pushing outwards. What bounty Mistress's body produced! Even in the bedroom, Mouche could graze her like a deer in a meadow and discover such wonders!

Now Mistress rode her wildly, crying out with her orgasm, till she was done, raised herself, and helped Mouche take off the dildo.

Mistress traced Mouche's lips with a fingertip and said, "I've brought your cleanup kit, dear. I carry it everywhere, hoping to see you. Remember? Your toothbrush, floss, special toothpaste, and mouthwash? Will you come with me so we can play the way we used to?"

Mouche's heart was in her mouth, eyes tearing up. She could hardly talk for happiness. She let Mistress take her hand, pull her to her feet, and lead her to the bathroom.

* * *

Pipit saw Emily and the blond girl disappear into the warehouse and guessed they'd be occupied for a while. She was naked, like a lot of the people at this party. She'd had Asoko write "FUCK-TOY" above her breasts in red, "FUCK HERE" below her belly button with an arrow pointing towards her pussy, and "HERE TOO" in the small of her back, with another arrow pointing into her crack. Pipit had written the same things on Asoko while Daddy stood by frowning and grumbling.

Just the week before, Pipit had spent a day with Mistress Ai, and she and Asoko had hit it off really well. Pipit envied Asoko, even though she was glad she wasn't fat like her: she was just as slutty as Pipit, but never seemed to feel even a twinge of guilt about it. Both women were looking forward to fucking a lot at the ball, but Pipit knew she'd end the night weeping and begging Daddy to beat her, while Asoko, pink and happy, would be bedding down with one of Mistress Ai's other slaves.

Pipit was glad to see Andrew and Emily go off in different directions: that meant both that her scheme was working and that there was less danger to herself than if they stayed together. Andrew didn't know the professional submissive he'd been fucking was Pipit, Emily's former rival: the last thing she needed was for him and Emily to put it all together. It'd be almost as bad for Mistress Ai or Mistress Kathy to see her and Andrew fucking - she didn't want them to start wondering whether she was moonlighting the way Neko had.

Still, Pipit wanted to see Andrew - she had to keep their relationship going. She searched through the rooms till she found him in the dungeon, watching the flogging of a large bald man in a leather jock strap.

She came up behind him and tugged at his fingers. "Master!" she whispered. He turned and smiled. "I need you, Master," she whispered, and towed him out of the room, through the employees' lounge, and into the empty security room, where the monitors were now blank and dark.

"Pretend you don't know me when you see me in the playrooms. I'm not supposed to see you outside of Mistress Shigemi's, and I'm so scared they'll get suspicious," said Pipit, undoing Andrew's pants and sinking to her knees. "But I need you to fuck me." She sucked his cock.

It didn't take long to finish. When she'd sucked him, he laid her over one of the desks and fucked her - and that was that. The whole thing couldn't have taken fifteen minutes from the time she put his cock in her mouth till he filled her pussy with cum.

She kissed him and said, "Don't tell on me."

"Don't worry," he said.

She gave his cock a squeeze and said, "Can you come next Thursday afternoon, after your classes are done?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Asoko's looking for you," she said. "Her pussy drips every time she hears your name." She left and headed for the ladies' room. She was leaking cum and needed a paper towel.

When she'd cleaned herself up, she circulated in the playrooms, unsure what she was looking for. In the warehouse she saw Emily releasing the blond girl, now naked, from a whipping horse - the girl's bottom was red, and she seemed dreamy and a little wobbly. Pipit stood back to watch, not wanting to be seen.

Emily kissed the girl tenderly, rubbing her sore bottom, and then gently pushed her to her knees. She started to suck Emily's dildo, eyes closed and face serene, as Emily looked down and petted her, running her fingers through her silky hair. Pipit was moved by the scene's sweetness. Emily couldn't be feeling anything - it was pure generosity, letting the girl suck the dildo that way.

Soon the girl looked up, eyes questioning, and said something Pipit couldn't hear. Emily leaned down and kissed her, then took her hand and led her over to a mat, where she took off her harness and lay on her back with her knees raised. Pipit edged closer as the girl knelt between Emily's legs.

The clit ring was beautiful, Pipit thought, small, silver, and elegant. The girl must have thought so too, because she flicked it with her tongue, making Emily sigh and stir.

Now Pipit saw the girl murmur something into Emily's pussy, and desire rushed up inside her. How she longed to be that girl, to lick the ring and taste that sweet pussy! She saw the white "Slave" tattoo - so brave of Emily to have it done! - and the girl sinking her lips into the deep pinkness between her glossy lips. Pipit needed to eat her out, be whipped by her, fucked, and told she was a wicked cunt. Emily would rail at her and punish her . . .

Feeling a little dizzy, Pipit backed away into the crowd, just far enough that she could still see, and fingered her clit. She'd approach Emily later, if she could, and talk to her. If Andrew saw them together it could end everything, but she had to take the risk.

* * *

Asoko was talking to Mistress Ai's slave Kuso in the velvet lounge. She was just as pretty as Andrew remembered, with her ponytail, her round, frank face, and her wide, healthy body.

When she saw him, she gave a joyful squeak, rushed over to him, threw her arms around him, and kissed him enthusiastically and wetly.

She sniffed and smiled at him. "It's not even ten o'clock, and you've had sex already," she said.

"I've been lucky," he said.

"I love a cock with fresh pussy on it," she said, undoing his pants.

He ran a finger along her slit. It was slick to the touch; he let his finger slide into her vagina and enjoyed her liquid warmth. His cock was already getting hard again.

"Have you had any sex yet?" he asked.

"Not yet," she said, and shivered. "I'm dripping - I want to suck you!"

Andrew wanted to eat Asoko's sopping pussy again, but since she'd asked first, he didn't stop her getting on her knees and sucking him.

Asoko's mouth was a miracle, and Andrew resolved that he'd never write off women who were older or heavy. His fingers twitched with longing to squeeze her soft, round breasts, ass, and thighs.

When he couldn't stand to wait anymore, he pushed her onto her back. She giggled and raised her knees, showing him her plump pussy - but he was mesmerized by the creases that formed in her tummy when she raised her legs. He fell to his hands and knees, crawled on top of her, and thrust his tongue into her belly button, making her squirm and giggle louder.

Andrew could tell that people were turning to stare, but found that he didn't care how he looked with his pants around his ankles, ass in the air - he was losing himself in Asoko's lovely flesh and her gleeful responses to his attention.

He moved from her belly to her breasts and sucked and nibbled her big nipples and puffy areolae. He worked his way up to her soft shoulders, where he left tooth marks along her collarbone - then up the left side of her neck to her ear, biting the lobe and licking inside and behind. He did the same with the other ear, thrilled by her chuckles and wiggles.

"You're a plush toy and a fuck-toy," he whispered in her ear, and then moved to her mouth and kissed her, licking into her wetly and exploring her teeth and tongue. He worked his way back down her body, pausing to lick an armpit, bite her waistline, nip at her fleshy hips, and finally kiss and lick the insides of her thighs, lingering there so long that she grabbed his head and tried to pull him to her, shrieking "Eat me, Master Andrew!"

He resisted, though, wanting to tease and torment. And when he finally got to the top of her legs, he licked all around her pussy - mound, taint, fleshy labia - without going in. Frustrated, she reached for her clit, but he swatted her hand away and covered her up with his palm.




Pipit Ch. 09



"Better eat that cunt, dude," said a gruff male voice near him, "or the bitch'll explode."

"Yeah, eat her!" shouted a woman, and soon a little crowd of men and women was urging him on.

Finally he couldn't resist any more. He parted her lips with his fingers and plunged in, and she was so wet, it was like a warm pool inside, deep and luxurious. He slurped and sucked, and she held his ears and pushed into him.

Around them the crowd cheered. "Looks like the boy hasn't eaten in a week," shouted the gruff man. "His mama needs to feed him better."

"He is skinny," said the woman, "but Asoko'll feed him up."

A man pressed a condom packet into Andrew's hand and said, "Fuck her, boy. Just follow the arrow."

Andrew got to his knees, opened the packet, and pulled on the condom, wishing he could bareback with Asoko the way he did with Emily, Amanda, and Tosatsu. He lifted her to him and thrust into her, and she alternately laughed and screamed as he fucked her, feeling her wetness trickle over his balls.

It didn't take long for her to come, and then he let himself go and soon came inside her.

A familiar voice said, "If it isn't the fucking loser and the fat cunt, my favorite fuck-toys!"

He looked around and saw Mistress Raquel holding a riding crop and wearing nothing but a sleeveless Harley shirt. She tapped his bottom with the crop and said, "Let's see the condom, loser."

He rolled it off and handed it to her. She held it up and inspected it.

"Pretty puny output," she said. "You can do better than that. Open your fucking mouth, lover boy."

Though scared of what was coming, he obeyed, and he forced himself not to flinch when she squeezed the contents of the condom into his mouth.

His desire had taken a plunge after his orgasm, and the last thing he wanted was a mouthful of his own cum. He didn't like the flavor or the ooziness of it, either.

"You like it, loser?" asked Raquel.

He shook his head.

"You fucking Doms think women just live for a taste of your cum, but you don't know a fucking thing about it. Swallow it, loser."

It was just a little bit, really, but it was surprisingly hard to swallow. He hated it, but still a little ripple of arousal rolled through him.

"There's a good loser," she said. "Now come with me, you two, and I'll teach you how to be nice little butt-toys."

Something rose up inside Andrew and rebelled, but his cock was already getting heavy with desire, remembering the way Mistress Raquel had whipped him and smothered him with her vast cunt. Desire quelled the rebellion, and he followed her meekly, Asoko quivering with excitement beside him.

* * *

Mouche felt warm and dreamy. She wished Mistress hadn't made her throw up, brush and floss, and use that strong mouthwash - she'd just wanted to stay with the experience for a while. But Mistress Karen's strictness about hygiene was loving, a kind of aftercare: it made her feel owned and safe. Now she was walking with Mistress, who had one fleshy arm around her.

"You may never trust me again, dear," she said, "and if so, I can't blame you. But I have to say that if you ever need a place, you've got one with Daniel and me. I acted foolishly - I realized right away that I'd done a terrible thing to a beautiful person, a person I really loved. I do love you, Mouche, and I've learned my lesson. Do you believe me?"

"Yes, Mistress," said Mouche, not knowing what else to say.

"Do you think you'd ever consider coming to live with us again?" asked Mistress.

Something clenched up inside Mouche. It wasn't not trusting Mistress - distrust wasn't in her nature. It was about Emily - not just that she loved her, but also that she had a responsibility to protect her.

She turned and looked at Mistress. She loved her worn, rubicund face, and she loved the way Mistress understood her kink better than anyone else. But she said, "I have to stay with Emily, Mistress Karen. I can't leave her." Then she added, "Ever," because that was in her heart.

"Well, the invitation will always be open, dear," said Mistress. "Always."

Mistress kept her arm around Mouche, and they walked on through the playrooms, the grand lady and her tiny submissive, looking at the scenes.

When they entered the velvet lounge, Mouche stopped and said, "Oh!"

"What is it, dear?" asked Mistress.

It was a big, lavishly tattooed, black-haired woman, lying back on a table with her legs drawn up - and Master Andrew was licking her pussy.

"Master Andrew," said Mouche.

"Famula's young Master?"

"Yes, Mistress," said Mouche.

"He's handsome," said Mistress.

"Yes, he is, Mistress," said Mouche.

"That's not our Famula," said Mistress.

"That's Raquel, one of our Dommes," said Mistress Ai, coming up behind them. Mouche looked around at her: she was devastating in a latex catsuit with lacy trim.

Mistress Karen said, "Lovely to see you, Ai!" and hugged her.

Mouche said, "Mistress Ai," and bowed her head.

Mistress Ai said, "Andrew met Raquel when he was playing slave at my place. She seems to have done a better job than I did of introducing him to his submissive side."

They turned again to look as Andrew moved aside, and a plump, blond woman took his place at Raquel's pussy.

"That's Asoko," said Mouche, "one of Mistress Ai's slaves."

"She's beautiful," said Mistress Karen. "I don't suppose . . ."

"No, Karen," said Mistress Ai, "she can top in the bathroom, but she can't bottom there. Kuso might be interested. His contract with me expires at the end of February."

Raquel sat up and caught sight of them. "Wait here, you cunts," she said, and came over to their little group.

"Hey, Ai," said Raquel. "I hope you don't mind if I borrow your girl."

"Just don't rough her up too much," said Mistress Ai. "She's a fuck-toy, not a masochist. The way you play, she'll safeword in half a minute."

"Sometimes you're a killjoy, you know that, Ai?" said Raquel. "She like clamps? vibrators?"

"She loves them," said Mistress Ai.

Soon Raquel had Asoko and Andrew tied back to back on the table. Both wore nipple clamps, and Raquel was holding a wand vibrator to the head of Andrew's hard cock as he writhed. Mouche watched in fascination, wondering what it would feel like to be a switch.

Inkei joined their group silently. He was naked, and "FUCK-TOY" was lettered on his chest in blue. Mouche glanced down at his cock, which had "AT YOUR SERVICE" lettered in a semicircle around it. It wasn't hard yet. She wanted to touch it, but restrained herself.

Mistress Ai said to him, "Kuso's taken over the door, Inkei?"

"Yes, Mistress Ai."

"You're free to play, then."

"I'd rather serve my Mistress."

"You can serve your Mistress tonight by playing with Mouche. You won't mind, will you, Karen? Mouche and Inkei are great friends."

"Not at all," said Mistress Karen, smiling. "Remember what I said, dear. Always." She swept away.

Mouche turned to Inkei, glanced at his smiling, pleasant face, and then stared down at his cock, which was growing and lifting. She said, "Can I suck you, Inkei?"

He smiled broadly and said, "Feel free."

* * *

Emily was fucking the blond girl with her strap-on. Pipit leaned against a wooden frame that wasn't in use and fingered her pussy as she watched, feeling jealous.

She jumped when a man who'd approached from the side said in a loud voice, "Fuck-toy, eh? I could use a fuck."

She looked at the man. He was middle aged, overweight and dressed all in latex. She didn't like him. She glanced at his latex pants and didn't see a snap or fly. "You got a penis in there?" she asked.

"In there somewhere," he said. "Pants gotta be peeled down if you want to find it."

"Do you have a condom?" she asked.

"If you insist," he said.

"I do," she said, got down on her knees, and pulled down his pants.

About ten minutes later, he pulled out of her pussy, peeled off the condom, and said, "What do I do with this?"

"Dispose of it responsibly," said Pipit, and turned away in time to see Emily pull out of the girl. She rubbed her back as she lay panting on the mat. Pipit thought they were beautiful together. The girl got up and embraced Emily, and they kissed tenderly. Pipit watched them chat, impatient for the girl to go.

"Pretty fuck-toy," said a man's voice beside her.

"Maybe later," she said without turning to look.

Finally Emily and the girl said their goodbyes and moved in different directions. Pipit intercepted Emily before she got to the door.

"Hi, Emily," she said shyly.

"Hi, Pipit!" said Emily warmly, and gave her a hug.

"I was watching you with that girl," said Pipit. "I hope you don't mind."

Emily laughed. "Aren't all BDSM people exhibitionists? I'm glad you were there to see."

"I saw your clit-ring . . . from a distance. It's really pretty."

"Thanks," said Emily. She paused for a few awkward seconds and then said, "This is a really great place! I bet it's fun to work here."

"Yeah," said Pipit. "It's good. I get whipped and humiliated every day. But it doesn't mean anything, you know?"

"You mean, like, those things are better in a relationship?"

"Like it's better when they're punishment."

Emily sighed, "I love punishment."

"Giving it or getting it?"

"Both, I guess. I haven't given it too often, and I've had mixed feelings about it, but, yeah, it turned me on."

Pipit glanced down for a moment and then looked at Emily again. "I sort of daydream about you punishing me."

Emily looked at her curiously. "Why do I punish you in your daydreams?"

"For being a bitch. Or, I don't know, just because you want to."

"What kinds of things do I do to you when I punish you?"

"Sometimes you tie me up and whip me. You yell at me and tell me I'm an evil cunt." Pipit was getting excited saying these things. "Sometimes you edge me with a vibrator. Sometimes you . . . you make me fuck a strange man, and then you lock me in a cage for being a slut."

"Do you really want me to punish you?" Emily asked.

It was what Pipit wanted more than anything in the world. It was useless to try to explain that, though, so she just said, "Yes." She hastened to add, "You can say no if you want, it's okay. And you don't have to do it now - I just mean, you know, sometime."

"But there are lots of strange men here, and you're a fuck-toy tonight. No time like the present, right?"

Pipit's pussy tingled. She couldn't have hoped for anything better than this. "Thank you, Emily," she said, surprised by how girlish she sounded.

Emily smiled. "You're welcome. Do you know where everything is in this place?"

"A lot of it."

"Do you think you could find like some cuffs? And some lube? Oh, yeah, and some nipple clamps?"

"Sure!" said Pipit, and ran off towards a cabinet. She found a pair of cuffs that could be fastened together with a short length of chain, a pair of nipple clamps connected by a thin chain, and a little bottle of lubricant.

Pipit brought her treasures to Emily, who led her to one of the rough wooden posts. "Kneel," she said, and pushed her down so she was sitting on her heels and her back was flat against the post. She cuffed Pipit's wrists behind the post, then stepped back to admire her work. She leaned down, parted Pipit's knees, and stepped back again. "You look good," she said. "Exactly like a fuck-toy."

Emily came to stand beside Pipit, holding the nipple clamps. Some seconds passed.

"Emily?" said Pipit.

"Yes?"

"What's going to happen?"

"We're going to wait for the right man to come along. Do you want to choose?"

"No, Emily. It'll work better if you choose."

"Okay."

Pipit said, "Emily?"

"Hmm?"

"Could you call me Tosatsu if you introduce me to anyone? That's how I'm called at Mistress Shigemi's. Pipit is kind of, you know, infamous. I don't want to be Pipit tonight."

"Tosatsu," said Emily, memorizing the name. "Sure, no problem. Now don't talk to anyone but me. Understand?"

"Yes, Emily," said Pipit, surprised by how submissive she felt at that moment.

The warehouse was filling up. Some people were chatting, eating, and drinking in little groups, some were staging their scenes, and some were wandering around.

A gray-haired man of about sixty, wearing leather pants and no shirt, stopped in front of them. "What's this?" he said.

Emily said, "This is my bitch Tosatsu. She's in heat, and I'm looking for a good stud dog to fuck her."

Pipit's face got hot, and she stared at the floor.

"Will I do?" the man asked.

Emily looked at him critically. "What breed are you?" she asked.

"Millionaire CEO," he said.

Pipit looked up again. The man looked pretty good, actually.

"Not billionaire?" asked Emily.

"Not quite."

"Maybe another time," said Emily.

"Maybe you should ask her," said the man.

"I can see you don't know much about dogs," said Emily.

The man harrumphed and moved on.

Pipit said, "Emily?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Why not him?"

"I didn't like him."

"Here's a sight," said a familiar voice.

"Hi, Frederick!" said Emily brightly.

He was more handsome than Pipit remembered, with short sandy hair, a close-cropped beard, and an immaculately pressed dark gray suit. He said, "Two former slaves, hanging out together. No hello for your old Master, Pipit?"

"I've forbidden her to speak. And her name is Tosatsu tonight."

"I see she's a fuck-toy. That seems right. Why is she cuffed to this post?"

"She's my bitch. A toy breed in fact. She's in heat, and I'm waiting for the right stud dog to come along. Are you interested?"

"I'm not a toy breed. I'm more wolf - like yourself. I might be interested in you."

"Are you gay, Frederick?"

"You know I'm not."

"Can't you see I'm male tonight?" she said, stroking her strap-on dildo.

"I see a beautiful woman with a strap-on and some amazing tattoos. Would you mind turning so I can get the full effect?"

Emily twirled quickly, like a ballerina.

"I wouldn't mind getting reacquainted with those tattoos," he said.

"You know I'm spoken for," said Emily coquettishly. "Are you sure I can't interest you in Tosatsu? You could try a face-fuck - like a test drive, you know. I've put her at just the right height for it."

Frederick leaned down, pried Pipit's mouth open with a thumb, and peered inside. "I'm tempted," he said, "but toy or not, she's a dangerous breed. The kind that's been known to turn on its owner. Be very careful if you play with her, Famula."

Pipit's face heated up again. He put a finger under her chin and closed her mouth.

He looked at Emily and said, "If you ever find yourself in need of a Master, you know where to find me."

A young woman came up beside him. She was wearing just a collar and short brown hair. She had a starburst tattoo to the left of her mound and "FREDERICK'S SLAVE" written in marker on her thigh. She took his arm, looked curiously at Emily and Pipit, and said, "Master?"

"Some old friends," he said. "This is La Chose, my slave for the evening."

"I guess you're not in need of my bitch tonight," said Emily.

"I guess not," said Frederick. "I hope to see you again, though," he added, looking at Emily, and led his slave away.

Being humiliated by Frederick had turned Pipit on. "He's hot, Emily," she said.

"He's always been hot," said Emily. "Why did you leave him, baby?"

"Most of my reasons weren't good ones. But play with him was so painful. Don't you think?"

"No, it was just right," said Emily. "I'm glad he didn't notice I was dripping. If he'd turned on the charm, I'd have been lost."

Emily turned away two men and one woman over the next ten minutes.

"What are you looking for, Emily?" asked Pipit.

"I don't know, baby. I'll know it when I see it. Oh, look! There's Christopher." She waved at him cheerily, and he came over, looking professorial in a Harris tweed jacket with khaki slacks.

"It's good to see you, Emily," he said, ignoring Pipit, who stared at the floor, heart in her throat.

"Good to see you, too, Christopher. You remember my bitch here? Her name's Tosatsu tonight."

Christopher glanced at Pipit and said, "Okay, I'll bite. What are you two up to?"

"She's my bitch, as I said. She's in heat, and I'm looking for the right stud dog to fuck her."

"Good luck to you there," he said. Pipit wished she could vanish or drop dead.

Emily lifted Pipit's head by the hair and said, "Why don't you give her a go? Just fuck her throat a little for old times' sake? She's still got her tonsils, you remember."

"I wouldn't mind going over old times with you."

"We weren't such a great couple, Christopher, but Mistress Ai is always saying you and my bitch here were perfect for each other."

"I'm done with her," said Christopher.

"Stick around and watch, anyway," said Emily. "You know she puts on a good show."

"I'll give her that," said Christopher, and moved away.

After he was gone, Emily said, "Do you ever miss him, baby?"

"Yeah," said Pipit. "Seeing him again made me wet. No one understands humiliation better than he does."

That's when Pipit saw Andrew enter the warehouse. He paused and stared, something like fear in his eyes. Then he recovered and made a beeline for them.

Emily saw him at the same moment and said, "Here's your fuck."

"No, Emily!" Pipit cried, suddenly terrified. "Not your Master!"

"You know him?" said Emily, turning to her.

Pipit's stomach lurched. But of course it was all right. "I met him at Mistress Ai's the day he was a slave there."

"And there's some special reason why you can't fuck my Master?" said Emily.

"He's yours, Emily. It wouldn't be right." It didn't seem right, either, quite apart from what he and Pipit had been up to, but it would have been hard for her to untangle the rights and wrongs well enough to articulate them.

"It's all right, baby," said Emily. "We're non-exclusive."

Andrew came up to them and said, "This is an interesting scene. What are you up to?"

"Tosatsu says you two have met," said Emily.

"Yes, at Mistress Ai's," said Andrew.

"She's my bitch tonight, Master," said Emily. "She's in heat and she needs a stud dog to fuck her. You'd be ideal."

"I don't know," he said. "It's been a busy night, and I'm tired."

"You could try a face-fuck, you know, for a trial run. I've positioned her just right for that, you see. I can help you get ready, if you like."

Pipit wanted Andrew to face-fuck her, but since she was forbidden to speak, she just looked at the floor.

"You can fuck her pussy or ass, Master," said Emily.

"Okay, Emily," said Andrew. "As a favor to you, I'll do my best to fuck Tosatsu."

Emily opened Andrew's zipper and pulled out his cock, which wasn't hard yet. "I want to help, Master," she whispered, sank to her knees, and helped him get ready.

It was beautiful to watch Emily suck Andrew's cock. She was passionate, not just sucking but making love to it, lost in the ecstasy of giving pleasure to her Master. Soon he was hard, and Emily said, "Fuck Tosatsu's face now, Master."

Andrew stepped towards her. Emily put a hand behind Pipit's head and urged her forward. Pipit opened her mouth, and Andrew placed a hand on top of her head and pushed into her.

* * *

Emily kept an eye on Master as he fucked Pipit's mouth. His tiredness was passing off and his excitement was growing. She wasn't sure what she was looking for in his face. She'd seen a glimmer of something as he'd come through the door - it wasn't just recognition, but something else, maybe alarm. But the moment had passed, and now she couldn't see anything in him but lust and excitement. It had to have been her imagination - residual distrust from the time that she and Pipit had fought.

Emily reached for Pipit's head, sank her fingers into the thick hair at the base of her braid, and shoved her forward hard, making her gag with loud liquid noises. Master smiled, and Emily felt a little burst of pleasure down below her breasts. She pushed again, and Pipit coughed out some clear, thick drool, which roped down to a viscous puddle on the floor between her legs.




Pipit Ch. 09



"Let's take her over there," said Andrew, nodding towards a bench along the wall. Emily undid Pipit's cuffs, picked up the bottle of lubricant, again sank her fingers into her thick hair, and hauled her towards the bench, following Andrew. Pipit scrambled along beside her on her hands and knees.

Andrew sat on the bench, and Pipit crawled between his legs and once again started to suck. She hummed excitedly as Emily lubricated her ass, watching Andrew's face. He met her gaze and smiled.

"Tosatsu loves butt-fucking. Right, baby?"

"Mmm," said Pipit, still sucking Andrew's cock.

Emily thrust her dildo into Pipit's ass, reached forward, and pushed her head down. Pipit choked and coated Andrew's balls with drool.

"She's good, don't you think, Master?"

"A good fellatrix," he said, putting a hand behind her head and pulling her down, making her cough and splutter again. Emily loved sharing a toy with Andrew this way: it made her feel closer to him somehow.

A little while later Andrew said, "Give me a turn in her ass." They switched places: Emily pulled off her harness and sat on the bench while Master put on a condom and pushed into Pipit from behind. Emily had taught him rough ass-fucking, and he rammed her furiously as she sobbed into Emily's pussy. Pipit was as good at cunnilingus as she was at sucking cock: her tongue and lips were doing amazing things to Emily's nervous system. She loved the sensations and Pipit's theatrical sobs, but she focused on Master - his ecstatic expression, the sweat breaking out on his body, the way he held her gaze, as if it was Emily he was fucking, not Pipit.

"Come," he whispered, and Emily's body responded to the command instantly: she pulled Pipit's head into her and smashed her pussy into her lips and tongue, crying out loudly, looking into Master's smiling face all the while.

* * *

Pipit was thrilled to make Emily come - to feel her body's spasms, taste her moist passion, and see her face radiant and transported. It's not as if she hadn't made women come before, but there was something different this time, a quality she'd never experienced. She knew what it was, too. Emily and Andrew were the center of her world right now, and the target of all her obsessive emotional energy, her love and hate - and here she was, sucking Emily's clit, hood, ring, and all, and Andrew was hammering her ass. She felt their love and energy arcing between Andrew's cock and Emily's clit, right through her body, ass to mouth, and she was distorting and perverting it as she transmitted it. Oh, this was where she needed to be and what she needed to be doing - coming between these lovers, connecting them and splitting them apart.

Well, the two of them would figure it out soon, and Pipit's game would be over, but right now Andrew was pulling out of her ass, yanking her upright by her braid, and she was pivoting on one knee in time to see him strip the condom from his empurpled cock, put a hand in her hair, and pull while Emily shoved her head from behind. She relaxed all her muscles and let them control her, let her arms hang, fingers curled, let him fuck her throat till his cum spurted into her - not so much now, but it felt good.

She was about to swallow it when Emily, now on her knees beside her, seized her shoulders, turned her, and kissed her. Pipit let Andrew's cum run into her, and Emily's kiss became warmer, like a thank you, and her tongue probed into Pipit's mouth as if searching out the rest of Andrew there, and her kiss was sweet and loving. Sharing this moment with her was a heaven.

But misery swept into Pipit behind the pleasure, as it always did. She'd been so happy, naked with her mouth and ass full, cum jetting into her, a crowd watching - how could she love such depravity? Her pussy and ass were sore, and so was her skanky soul. She collapsed against Emily and cried, hearing her stern father's voice hissing "Abomination!"

"It's okay, Master," Emily said, putting her arms around Pipit. "I'll take care of her."

Andrew hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, but then nodded and left them. Emily whispered, "You've been a bad girl, haven't you?"

Pipit sniffled and nodded.

"Speak to me," said Emily. "Say it out loud."

Pipit said, "I've been a bad . . ." but had to stop because the words caught in her throat.

"You didn't quite get it out, baby. Try again."

Pipit tried hard to get herself under control and managed to say, "I've been a bad girl."

"What did you do that was bad?"

"I was a slut," Pipit whispered.

"And you think that's a bad thing?"

"Yes, Emily. Punish me?"

"Go find me a vibrator. A big one."

Pipit jumped up, ran to a cabinet, and got a wand vibrator. She brought it to Emily, who looked around the room. "That frame over there is free," she said. She led Pipit to the frame and cuffed her to its corners, facing the room. She attached the nipple clamps, not too tight, and plugged the vibrator into a nearby outlet - its buzzing was ominous. People were turning to stare at Pipit's exposed body. She was very scared, and very wet.

Emily said, "I'm not going to punish you for being a slut."

Pipit cried, "Please, Emily, you promised . . ."

Emily held the vibrator against the inside of one thigh. "I didn't tell you what I'd punish you for," she said. "If you want to be punished, you'll have to come up with something better than that. You're a good slut, you know. You just made Andrew and me really happy." She stroked Pipit's thighs with the vibrator, from the knee almost to her pussy, one side and then the other.

Pipit needed pain and humiliation so bad. "Please, Emily," she said, tugging at her cuffs, straining towards the vibrator.

Emily drew circles around Pipit's pussy and said, "You could try insulting me again, like you did New Year's Eve."

People were gathering round to watch the scene - Christopher was among them. Pipit needed him to see her shamed and tortured. "Oh, please - skank! whore!"

Emily stroked her mound with the vibrator and said, "Your heart's not in it. You'll have to try harder."

"Bitch," Pipit sobbed, "cunt." Not words for Emily, but for herself.

Emily traced a semicircle around a clamped nipple with the vibrator and said, "This isn't working. What else could I punish you for?"

Again Pipit felt the urge to confess everything - but she couldn't, the time wasn't right to say all of it.

"What I did to you," she whispered. "And Mouche. . . . Christopher. Frederick."

"It's pretty old stuff, but I guess it'll have to do," said Emily, and pressed the vibrator hard against Pipit's clit.

The sensation blasted through stimulation straight up to pain. Pipit shrieked and tried to squirm away. "I'm sorry!" she cried.

"Tell me what you're sorry for," said Emily, moving the vibrator up and down Pipit's slit.

"I called you names," Pipit choked. "I stole your Master. Please, please!"

"Okay," said Emily. The vibrator was like a grotesque cock: she thumped Pipit's clit with its head. "Any more?"

Oh, Pipit was worse than bad. She'd drunk piss and eaten shit. Her whole body was septic. No one was fouler than she was. "I'm filthy!" she cried.

"That one won't do," said Emily, and took the vibrator away.

"I was mean to Mouche! I drove her away! I was a bad slave!"

"That's more like it," said Emily, and jammed the vibrator between her legs again. She took Pipit's chain in her free hand and tugged a little, increasing the pain and stimulation of her nipples.

Sensation was blasting through Pipit's body, lightning leaping between her pussy and nipples. She wept, "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

"Is that all?" Emily asked. "There's nothing more?"

There was lots more. Pipit was bad, hateful. She was doing every bad thing she could think of, trying to destroy everyone in her life.

"Ohh," she whined. "I can't think!"

"Try," said Emily, and twisted the vibrator.

"Please," Pipit sobbed. "Take it away!"

"When you're done," said Emily. "Is there more, baby?" She pressed the vibrator squarely against her clit.

Emily's rose vines seemed to be waving about, stretching towards Pipit like tentacles. They'd wind around her and pull her under . . .

Oh, fuck, her breasts. "I'm sorry!" Pipit screamed.

"Is there more? Say it!" said Emily.

Pipit shrieked, "No more!"

Emily snapped the vibrator off and removed the clamps. She cupped Pipit's pussy in one hand, letting her middle finger rest over her slit. "It's okay now," said Emily. "Punishment's done. You're forgiven."

"I'm sorry, Emily," Pipit sighed.

Emily took her down from the cross and lowered her to the floor, where she lay trembling. Emily sat with her and held her head in her lap. "How many orgasms have you had tonight, baby?" she asked.

"None, Emily," said Pipit.

"Do you want one, baby?"

"Yes, please," said Pipit.

Emily laid her on the floor and crawled on top of her. Pipit was so happy she could lick her friend's pussy while Emily's gentle tongue soothed her sore and swollen clit. She put her hands on Emily's bottom and pulled her down to her, wanting to drown in her wetness.

After Emily had given Pipit her orgasm, she petted her head and said, "Is that better, baby?"

"Thank you, Emily," said Pipit.

"Why don't you come sit with me a while?" said Emily. "We could both use some rest."

Pipit turned onto her side and curled up. "You go, Emily," she said. "I just want to lie here for a while."

"Okay," said Emily, kissed her cheek, and left.

Pipit lay thinking about the way Emily had humiliated and punished her. It had felt so good - painful and healing. She'd been so strong, so relentless, so close to the truth, the true horror of Pipit, who wanted Emily in her life always - ruling her, fucking her, punishing her. Even after she'd finished with Andrew and torn all their lives apart, Pipit would yearn for her.

A pair of brown shoes appeared by her head, khaki pants above them. She turned to look up: it was Christopher, fully clothed but holding his erect cock in his hand.

"On your knees, fuck toy," he said.

* * *

Home again, Emily lay in bed with her Master, feeling happy. She was curious, though.

"Master?" she said.

"Yes?"

"That girl I was playing with - Tosatsu, my bitch. Did you ever meet her before, besides the once at Mistress Ai's?"

"No. Just that one time. I think I'd remember meeting that one, you know."

"Yeah, she's a beauty. I just thought I saw something in your eyes, like you recognized her, and something else."

"People are always imagining they see things in people's eyes. But eyes are just eyes."

They lay quietly. Emily decided not to tell him Tosatsu was Pipit, the girl who'd made so much trouble in her life. That was all water under the bridge, and Tosatsu didn't even want to be Pipit anymore. She was different now: Emily really liked her.

If she'd been less sleepy, it might have struck her as odd that Master hadn't asked how Tosatsu had become Emily's bitch tonight. Instead, she fell asleep with the thought that, though she and Master had gone through a rough patch, things were getting better between them. Whatever the crisis had been about, it was done. Everything was going to be all right.



Pipit Ch. 10: End



Author's note: Here's the tenth and last chapter of "Pipit," the story of a beautiful but troubled submissive (also called Tosatsu) and the people in her life, especially her one-time rival, the consensual slave Emily (scene name Famula), Emily's young and naive Master Andrew, Pipit's friend Neko, and Pipit and Neko's "Daddy" Raquel. Pipit is a professional submissive at Mistress Shigemi's House of Kink, and she and Neko are occasional prostitutes.

Pipit has been attempting to undermine Andrew and Emily's relationship by giving Andrew disastrous advice about how to be a good Dom. Meanwhile, Neko is in love with Pipit, who has been developing feelings for Emily, and two of Emily and Pipit's former Masters have reappeared. Whew! This has become a soap opera! Tags: Lesbian sex, Straight sex, Bondage, Vibrator, Scissoring, Edge play, Cutting, Prostitution, Human furniture.

* * *

Chapter 10. Boys and girls together

"Karen was practically on her knees, right here in our kitchen, begging for a visit from Amanda," said Emily. "I think she's really been suffering without a toilet slave."

Pipit sipped her tea and studied Emily's face, struggling to conceal her need, which was still at fever pitch three days after Mistress Ai's PYL Ball. "So you let her go for five whole days?" she said. "Aren't you worried she won't come back?"

"A little worried, I guess," said Emily. "But there's real love between them, you know, in spite of everything, and Karen's really into the toilet kink in a way that I'm not - so that's a thing Karen can give her that I can't."

"I can see that," said Pipit, wondering how to steer the conversation towards what she wanted.

"And then," Emily continued, "even if Amanda doesn't go on living with me, we're still going to have a relationship. I'm not worried about ever losing that. I think we'll always be best friends."

"And lovers?" asked Pipit, starting to see a way to get where she wanted to go.

Emily smiled. "Oh, we'll definitely be lovers."

"If you can be both friends and lovers, that's the most beautiful kind of relationship," said Pipit, feeling warm inside.

"I think so," said Emily. "Mistress Ai once told me I needed to keep sex, play, and relationships separate in my mind. I think she meant they don't always have to go together, though they're better when they do."

"We did all three the other night," said Pipit, feeling shy. "I really liked it."

"So did I," said Emily, smiling.

Pipit almost blurted it out, but the time wasn't right, so she said, "Tell me more about your tattoos. Why did you get roses?"

"I've always been a pushover for roses," said Emily. "If a guy sent me roses, I'd be like advance one base. Frederick used to give me roses, and it sent me over the moon. I wanted to give him roses, and the tattoo was how I did it."

"It's sad you're not with him," said Pipit. "I guess that's my fault."

"I don't think so," said Emily. "And I still love the roses, and so does Master."

"Could I . . . could you show them to me again?"

"Sure," said Emily. She stood and peeled off her tee shirt.

Pipit drew a deep breath. Emily's colorful rose vine filled her with love and envy. "Not everybody has thorns on their rose tattoos," she said.

"It's perfect for a masochist," said Emily.

Pipit put her hands on Emily's hips and turned her so she could see her back. The rose vine disappeared into her gray sweatpants.

"Do you mind?" said Pipit, letting her fingers curve over the elastic waistband.

"Not at all," said Emily.

Pipit drew down the sweats. "Jesus," she said.

On Saturday the vine had stopped just below Emily's waistline. Now it extended down over her perfect ass, on the right. The skin was a little swollen under the design, and pink and raw all around it.

"Do you like it?" said Emily. "I had it done yesterday."

"It's beautiful," Pipit breathed. "Can I touch it?"

"Yeah, just don't rub," she said.

Pipit gingerly touched the raised skin. Emily flinched a little, and Pipit said, "It must hurt a lot."

"Not too bad," said Emily. "Play with Master hurts more."

Pipit shivered, remembering how Andrew had taken a belt to her pussy. She wondered if he'd ever done that to Emily. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed the fresh tattoo.

Emily gave a little scream and turned around: her sweats fell down around her feet. Before she could bend down to retrieve them, Pipit jumped up, threw her arms around Emily, and kissed her.

"I'm sorry, Emily," said Pipit. "It's just . . . your tattoo turned me on so much."

"It's okay," said Pipit. "Only you're supposed to keep them super clean for a few days, and mouths are full of bacteria."

Pipit felt a little deflated. "I'm sorry," she said.

"No, no, baby," said Emily, "no harm done, really," and kissed her. Pipit returned her kiss avidly, feeling more revved up every second.

Pipit reached down and touched Emily's mound, lightly and tentatively.

"Emily?" she said.

"Mmm?"

"Can we go to bed?"

"Mmm."

Emily stepped out of her puddled up pants and led Pipit to the Master bedroom, which had a bed with posts, a great convenience for kinky people. She turned inside the door, laced her fingers behind Pipit's head, and said, "Now what are two submissives supposed to do in the bedroom?"

"You're a switch," said Pipit, resting her hands on Emily's hips.

"I think maybe you are too," said Emily. "What do you do with Neko?"

"We're neither of us switches, but we take turns topping."

"It's your turn," said Emily, and kissed her.

"Got any cuffs?" said Pipit.

Emily rummaged in a drawer and brought her four leather cuffs and some soft cord.

"Face down, honey," said Pipit. "Don't worry: I'll be careful about the tattoo. But I want to see it."

Emily lay face down on the bed. Pipit fastened her, spread-eagled, to the bedposts, and then undressed herself. She knelt beside Emily, reached between her legs, and put a hand on her pussy. Emily sighed and stirred.

Pipit brushed Emily's hair aside and kissed her neck. She said, "Now that I have you tied up, I can do anything I want with you. Do you have a safeword of your own?"

"Satis," said Emily. "It's Latin for 'enough.'"

"What horrible things would make you safeword?"

"Scat," said Emily. "Hitting too hard. Cutting. Things you wouldn't do."

"Don't be too sure. I'm a really bad person," said Pipit. She imagined giving Emily's new tattoo a spank. How she'd scream!

"Don't scare me," said Emily.

"You didn't let Andrew play without a safeword, did you?" said Pipit.

"No. But he never asked again."

Pipit suppressed her wicked thought and said, "Don't worry - I'll be good. But do you have a vibrator?"

"Top dresser drawer. There are three different kinds."

Pipit found a little pink bullet vibrator, came back to Emily, kissed her cheek, and turned the vibrator on. She pressed it against the back of Emily's neck, and slowly moved it over her shoulders, back to her neck, and down her spine. Emily sighed.

Pipit used the vibrator all over Emily's body - feet, ankles, calves, thighs, sides, armpits. She explored her body minutely, wanting to see every inch of it and find the most sensitive places. Finally she reached under her and pressed the vibrator against her mound, avoiding the clit.

"Oh," said Emily, and squirmed.

Pipit bent down and kissed Emily's bottom - the side that wasn't freshly tattooed and raw. "I'm going to worship your ass," she whispered.

Emily said "Oh!" more insistently this time.

Pipit held the vibrator against Emily's spine again and slid it down into the top of her crack. She pressed it into the sensitive skin there, making her wiggle. She bit the soft flesh of her bottom, just enough to make her gasp, not enough to leave marks. She held the vibrator against her taint and ran her tongue up and down her tightly closed crack.

"Oh!" cried Emily, "you're teasing me!"

"Okay, sweetie," said Pipit, slid the vibrator into her slit, and held it there as she dredged into her crack with her tongue.

Emily wriggled and moaned.

"You like your ass licked, honey?" said Pipit.

"Please," Emily pleaded.

Pipit slid the vibrator into Emily's vagina, parted her ass cheeks with two hands, and gave her anus a little flick with the tip of her tongue. It was lovely - not dirty or smelly, but pink and a little spicy. She closed her lips over it and kissed it, wetting it with her tongue. It felt deliciously submissive to kiss Emily's ass, even with her cuffed to the bed. Pipit enjoyed the warmth of her deep crack on her face, the faint scent of sweat, the beauty of her white skin, and, at the edge of her vision, the fabulous sore tattoo. Pipit was in a reverie: she wanted to stay here, in Emily's ass, forever.

But Emily was squirming, impatient, wanting to get on to the next thing. Reluctantly, Pipit raised her head and pulled the vibrator out of Emily's pussy.

"Turn you over, honey," said Pipit. She uncuffed Emily, turned her over, and cuffed her again. She knelt between Emily's legs and gazed into her green eyes as she licked the vibrator, enjoying the taste and sensation on her tongue.

She put a hand on Emily's pussy and gently massaged her, making her sigh and move her hips. She softly pinched her hood: "Yes!" Emily whined. She pressed the vibrator against her outer labia, moving up and down on either side, over her mound, and under her slit.

Emily groaned and said, "Please, baby!"

Pipit whispered "Pretty pussy," and lay between Emily's legs. She parted her outer labia and ran her tongue up and down her pink folds, all the while teasing the very top of her hood with one finger.

"Ooh!" Emily cried, and Pipit licked upwards inside her slit, from the very bottom not quite to her clit, meanwhile massaging her mound and the top of her labia with one hand and massaging her wet anus with a finger.

"Put your finger in my ass!" Emily pleaded, and Pipit worked one slender finger into her, careful not to scratch.

She closed her mouth over Emily's pussy and sucked, drawing her clit into her and licking circles around it.

"Eeee!" Emily shrilled, and arched her back. Pipit just barely flicked her clit with the tip of her tongue, reveling in the wetness of her and her clean smell and taste, and aching to please her.

She made her tongue a little harder and massaged closer to the clit with her finger, and Emily writhed under her mouth and sobbed, so close to orgasm.

But it wasn't time for an orgasm yet. Pipit got up, released Emily from the cuffs, and said, "Do you like scissoring?"

"Yeah," Emily breathed, and they pressed their pussies together, stimulating each other with their hands too. It was beautiful, and it felt so good, and Pipit was already so turned on even though she'd hardly touched herself, that it didn't take long for them to come.

Pipit and Emily lay on the bed in each other's arms, legs tangled up. Pipit's emotions were running riot: her feelings for Emily and the horror of what she was doing with Andrew - doing to him - and making him do to her. She fought to keep herself under control.

She said, "That was beautiful, Emily."

"Yeah," said Emily. "You're really good with your mouth."

Pipit stroked Emily's stomach and said, "Do you think we can do it again sometime? Maybe play too?"

Emily turned to look at her. "Are you feeling like you need punishment again?"

"A little," said Pipit.

"Do you always feel that way after sex?"

"Not always. It has to be shameful, like fucking a stranger, or I have to feel bad about something else."

"This wasn't shameful, was it?"

"No, honey, I love - it was wonderful."

"But there's something wrong," said Emily.

Pipit wanted to tell Emily everything about herself, all the horrible things she'd done - but Emily would never see her again if she did that. The thought was unbearable. Still, she felt an overwhelming need to confess to her.

She sat up on the bed and faced her. "I'm not a nice person. I don't know what gets into me. What I did to Mouche at Karen and Daniel's? I did that on purpose."

"I know that," said Emily. "But you were sorry later. You didn't even need to be punished for it, really."

"I was sorry. I am. Being sorry doesn't stop me doing it again," said Pipit. "I stole Frederick from you just because I was pissed off at Christopher - and you."

"We don't have to talk about that anymore," said Emily. "We've dealt with that."

It was frustrating, trying to explain. She'd never tried to put so much of this into words before. "You don't understand," she said. "Christopher used to invite friends over to fuck me, and then he'd humiliate me. It was so painful, emotionally, you know. But I was better then, and I needed it so. And ever since I left him I've been doing these horrible things. I left Frederick without even telling him I was going."

"That wasn't so horrible," said Emily, smiling.

This wasn't working. It was too frustrating. "I've been worse," Pipit whispered, stomach fluttering. "My friend Neko - I got her fired. She was a professional sub at Mistress Shigemi's. You're not supposed to ever take clients home, but she did - just a little. I told on her and got her fired. She never knew it."

Emily sat up and looked at her with serious eyes. "Why did you do that?"

"I was mad at her because she had more clients than me. But the bigger thing was, I needed to know what it felt like to do something that bad. I feel ashamed whenever I'm with Neko, and it's . . . it's so powerful."

Emily looked at her and didn't say anything. Pipit was terrified. She'd told her an unforgivable thing.

"You could make me behave," she said, her words coming out in a rush. "I felt it in you when I ran into you that day at Caffe Reggio, and I knew for sure when you made Andrew fuck me on Saturday and punished me afterwards. It felt so right to obey you - I needed to do what you said. You could do it, Emily, you could make me behave, and I'd be a better person, the way I was when I was with Christopher. Maybe better than that."

Emily still wasn't saying anything. Pipit's eyes watered. Oh, this was hard, but she had to say it.

"I love you, Emily. I need you to control me and punish me. I need to belong to you." Pipit hung her head and let the tears flow.

Emily was quiet for a long time. Then she took Pipit's hand.

"I can't make you a better person," she said gently. "You're the only person who can do that. You've dealt with the way you treated me and Amanda and the way you left Christopher and Frederick. Doing that is what makes you better. You need to deal with what you've done to Neko. Tell her what you did and ask her to forgive you. Talk to Mistress Ai and try to get her to hire her back."

"But Neko won't be my friend anymore," said Pipit, "and Mistress Ai will fire me."

"Those things might happen," said Emily. "But they're what you need to do. As for me, I can't control you or own you. I can be your friend - but I tell you as a friend that you have to take care of Neko. Tell me when you've done that."

* * *

Pipit told herself she would have stopped seeing Andrew and called off the plan if Emily had agreed to become her Mistress, and she managed to actually believe it, too, willing herself not to know that it was a runaway train now, and the only question was where it would derail or what it would crash into at the end of the line. Whatever: she was definitely going through with it now.

It was infuriatingly unfair. Pipit had offered everything to Emily. She'd revealed herself to her as she'd never done to anyone else, and what she'd gotten in return was rejection. One of the perks of being beautiful was supposed to be that you got the lovers you wanted, but there'd been a lot of rejection in her life lately, and she was fed up with it. Christopher, Frederick, and Karen were beyond her reach, but she had Andrew, and through him she'd get Emily.

On Tuesday afternoon she walked the streets of the Village, envying the people on the street and thinking over her grievances. On Wednesday she met Neko in her apartment and whipped her for the first time ever. It wasn't much of a whipping, but Neko, feeling the anger in her, had cried, which was unusual for her. That evening Daddy was in a sadistic mood and paddled both her subs in the stocks. Afterwards she made Pipit eat her ass while Neko ate her pussy, but somehow the old excitement wasn't there. Pipit kept thinking of Emily's sweet anus and the fabulous rose tattoo.

On Thursday morning Daddy slept late, and both Pipit and Neko almost pissed themselves before she got around to letting them out. It occurred to Pipit that she was getting tired of Daddy's moods and her negligence and would have to move on soon.

At three o'clock on Thursday afternoon Pipit was sitting on the sofa of her apartment, once again naked except for cuffs on her ankles and wrists. Instead of a collection of chains and whips, just two items lay on the coffee table: the ball gag and an old-fashioned straight razor. Pipit fidgeted. She was scared - not with the pleasant kind of fear that makes your panties wet, but with the frigid kind that creeps through your bones and makes you sure you're going to die.

She had to hide her fear from Andrew when he came, though. It was so important to keep herself under control - otherwise how could she hope to control him?

The instant she saw him standing in her doorway, she knew how to act. She rushed into the hallway, flung herself into his arms, and kissed him lewdly, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and grabbing his cock through his pants. "Master, I need you to fuck me," she breathed in his ear.

"Better go inside, don't you think?" he said, and she giggled as if she hadn't noticed she was standing naked in the hallway. She pulled him into the apartment and kicked the door shut.

"I've been wet all day, thinking about how we're going to play," she said, stroking her pussy - which was in fact wet, though not from thinking about their play.

"How are we going to play today?" asked Andrew, watching her finger slide in her slit.

"It's like the ultimate trust game," said Pipit, taking her finger from her pussy and pressing it to his lips. "It's a way for me to let you know how much I trust you, and for you to show me that I can trust you absolutely. Do you remember what I'm most afraid of? What my hardest limit is?"

"Breaking your skin," said Andrew.

"It's why I don't have any tattoos or piercings - the idea makes me weak with fear. Here's the game. You put me on the cross in the bedroom, and do your best to make me believe you're going to cut me. You're not actually going to do it, but you'll do your best to make me believe it."

"How am I supposed to make you believe I'll do it if you already know I won't?"

"Maybe you'll be convincing enough to make me forget. But the play with me isn't all that important - it's just a trial run. When you play this with Emily, she won't know in advance that you're not going to hurt her. It's afterwards, when she realizes that you could have but didn't, that the real trust gets built. Then she'll know she can trust you with her life."

"I don't know - " said Andrew.

Pipit pressed her naked body against him and whispered to his collarbone. "Play it with me," she said. "Then you can decide whether it's a thing you want to do with Emily."

"Okay," he said.

"Let me undress you, Master," she said, unbuttoning his shirt. "I want to see your hard cock while we play." She took off his shirt, got to her knees, and unlaced and took off his shoes. Still kneeling, she undid his pants and pulled them down, and then his underwear.

"I can't stand it," she whispered, closed her lips around his cock, and teased the tip of him with her tongue, making little circles around his slit. When he was hard, she pulled him into her, moaning.




Pipit Ch. 10: End



When she could feel his excitement was like a roaring fire inside him, she pulled away and whispered, "I need you to make me helpless, Master. I need you to make me afraid."

She went to the coffee table, picked up the razor and the ball gag, and handed them to him.

"Come put me on the cross," she said.

He looked at the things in his hand. "We should play with a safeword for this," he said.

"No," she said. "No safeword. No safe gesture. You've grown out of those things."

"Play like this could leave permanent scars. I mean psychological."

"You're going to have the power of life or death over me. I won't be the first person who's ever been in that position." She held her hand out to him. He hesitated a second, then took it.

He led her to the bedroom and stood her in front of the cross. He set the razor on the dresser and fastened her wrist cuffs to the top with cord, then the ankle cuffs to the bottom. He tightened the wrist cuffs.

Holding the gag, he said, "You don't have to wear the gag. Or I could put my keys in your hand for a safe gesture."

"Put a finger in my pussy, Master," she said.

He slid a finger into her.

"Am I wet, Master?" she asked.

"Very wet," he said.

"Put the gag on me," she said. Her heart was already pounding, and she gasped out the words.

He fitted the ball in her mouth and fastened the strap behind her head.

"One last time," he said. "Nod your head if you want to go back and have a safeword or safe gesture. If you shake your head, I'll ignore everything you do - every gesture, every facial expression, every noise you make. I'll just please myself."

Pipit's forced herself to shake her head.

Andrew picked up the closed razor and stroked her left cheek with it. "You look scared," he said. "I like that." He reached for her pussy and pinched her clit hard, making her jump.

"Ungh," she said.

He moved the closed razor to Pipit's other cheek. "You need to try not to move," he said in a soft, even voice. "If the razor had been open just then, I might have sliced you."

He ran the closed razor down to her left breast and circled her nipple with the hinged end. "A thing as sharp as this could do unspeakable damage," he said. "It could cut off a nipple. It could sever an artery. It could slice through any soft tissue so easily."

Oh, fuck, what had she done? He hadn't even opened the razor yet, and she was beside herself with terror. Her heart was hammering now, and she was hyperventilating.

"I've always loved the sight of blood," he said, shifting his gaze from the razor to her face. His eyes gleamed with pleasure. "When I cut myself as a kid, I'd just sit and watch it bleed for a while before I went for a band-aid. I'd love to make you bleed," he said, and opened the razor.

She wanted to say No, it had been a horrible mistake, she hadn't really meant that about no safeword, and the game had to stop now, but all she could manage was a high-pitched "Uhh" behind her gag.

He raised the razor to her face again and stroked first one cheek and then the other with the dull edge. He traced the outline of her lips with the dull corner of the razor and said, "Maybe I should make you suck this like a cock."

Her heart beat wildly: she imagined the taste of the cold steel on her tongue.

"No," he said, grinning, "not a good idea to take the gag off. You know you're twice as beautiful when you're scared?"

He was a psychopath, she knew it, and he was going to cut her, maybe kill her. It was hard to draw all the air she needed through her nose. Sweat was breaking out on her forehead.

"Wouldn't it feel good to be fucked with this cock?" he said, grinning. "Think of it sliding into your vagina, slicing into your sweet flesh."

He moved the blade to her pussy and let the dull edge slide into her slit. She moaned and tried to hold very still.

"Gives a whole new meaning to the word slash, doesn't it? Wouldn't you like me to turn the blade around, make your pussy wet in a whole new way?"

Pipit couldn't suppress the image of blood gushing out of her. She closed her eyes tight and shook her head.

"Maybe later," he said. He took the blade away from her pussy and lightly brushed her breast with the sharp edge, from just above the nipple up to the top. He seemed radiantly happy, looking at the sharp edge next to her unblemished skin.

Pipit squealed behind her gag and tried to squirm away.

"Try not to move," said Andrew. "A razor is a dangerous thing."

She emitted a high, anguished sound, and forced herself to hold still.

He brushed with the razor from the top of her breast up to her throat and around to the tender skin under her ear. Sweat and tears were mingling on her cheeks.

"You know," he said, "men get used to barbers holding an open razor right here, even though we know that if they slipped up, they might hit the carotid artery. But they never do, except occasionally in movies. So relax. This is like getting a shave."

Pipit couldn't relax. Her body was rigid with terror.

"Now in ancient and medieval times," Andrew said, moving the blade farther up, "they used to punish criminals by cutting off their ears. It must have been a common sight on the street, people without ears. You'd know they'd committed theft, or blasphemy, or fornication."

Pipit thought her heart would burst, it was pounding so fast and hard.

"For really serious offenses," Andrew continued, smiling lovingly at the blade as he moved it to her upper lip, edge pointing upwards, "they'd cut off the nose. Amazing people, the ancients. I believe they really enjoyed carving up the body."

Andrew brushed Pipit's breast again with the sharp edge - then her stomach.

"I won't do anything so horrible," he said. "But it'd be a shame to stop this play without cutting something. Maybe a nice scratch on your stomach. Or maybe your arm, your feet or calves." He moved the razor to these places as he named them. "Your thigh. Not too deep a cut - just enough to leave a nice scar. What do you think?"

Pipit shook her head furiously, eyes wide with fear.

He drew the sharp edge across her thigh as if cutting it, scarcely touching the skin. But she knew how sharp the razor was, and that he hardly had to exert any pressure at all to cut her.

Her breath was whistling in her nose - she closed her eyes tight and waited for the pain, knowing she'd pass out when it came and not expecting ever to wake up.

But the pain didn't come. He put the razor down on the dresser top, took the gag off, and released her from the cross.

She didn't want to touch him ever again, but she made herself collapse into his arms.

"How do you feel?" he asked. "Did it build trust?"

She felt that he was the most dangerous man she'd ever known, and she was very glad this was their last session. She'd never again give him that kind of power over her body.

But she took a deep breath and said, "It was amazing, Master. I'm more sure than ever that you'd never hurt me."

"Not that kind of hurt," he said. "Just the kind you like." He threw her face-down on the bed and fucked her, and though he did the things she liked - slapped her ass, pulled her hair, handled her roughly - she took no pleasure in him and had to pretend to come.

Afterwards he held her, and she said, "Are you going to try this with Emily?"

"She won't play without a safeword," said Andrew.

"She'll let you tie her up, won't she?" asked Pipit.

"Yeah, she trusts me. I eased up on safewords and limits, and things have gotten easier between us."

"You traded away your power," said Pipit. "If she's tied up and you gag her, she can't safeword."

"I can't do that to her," he said.

"It's what I wish you'd done to me," said Pipit. "The feelings would have been so much more intense if you'd taken my power from me instead of me giving it to you."

Andrew stared at her doubtfully.

"Do it," said Pipit, taking his cock in her hand and gazing into his eyes. "The feeling of power will be unbelievable. Then come tell me about it, and fuck me." She sat, bent over him, and kissed his cock. It was still damp, it smelled of pussy, and it stirred for her again.

She teased the underside of him with her tongue, holding his gaze, and said, "Tell me you're going to do it." She drew him into her, closed her mouth tight around him, and sucked him. She raised her head slowly, letting him slide out of her. With her lips just brushing the head of his cock, she whispered, "Tell me, Master." She squeezed him gently, and a pearl of milky cum formed right at the tip. She raised her eyes to meet his again, put out her tongue, and licked the little drop away.

"Tonight," he whispered. "It's the last night we're alone together. Amanda comes back tomorrow."

She drew him into her again and sucked him till he flooded her mouth with his cum. She let him watch her swallow it one last time.

As she saw him out the door, she pressed the folded razor into his hand.

"You'll need this," she said.

* * *

"I don't think I can do it anymore." While Andrew had been terrorizing Pipit, a client had been flogging and fucking Neko. "When I worked at Mistress Shigemi's," she said, "the men I saw at home felt like Doms. I loved them for the time they were with me. Now they're just johns. All I want is for them to finish up and get out. And I hate the feeling afterwards. I don't know how to describe it. The feeling of being a whore."

"I know what you mean, honey," said Pipit. They were in the kitchen doing the dinner dishes - pots, pans, plate, dog bowls. Neko was washing and Pipit drying.

"It isn't just that, though," said Neko. She lowered her voice and continued: "It's Raquel, too. I never liked her as well as you did, you know. But now it's like she doesn't care about us at all - she doesn't do anything with us but get off. And I'm all aches and pains from sleeping in that cage."

Pipit had liked whoring at first - the feeling afterwards, which Neko hated so much, was what she'd liked best. But whoring had lost a lot of its appeal. After the initial rush of exquisite self-loathing, she'd again started to miss the kind of play she'd had with Christopher's friends. It had taken her a long time to puzzle out why the shame of the submissive whore had come to seem a lesser thing than that of the slave lent out for a fuck. Finally she'd come to understand that, while a john purchased the right to violate her body, Christopher had granted his friends that same right, and also certain rights to her soul. The purely commercial shame of the whore was a thing she could put away after a trick, like changing your clothes at the end of a workday - but the deeply personal shame of the slave had penetrated to her core.

So Pipit agreed with Neko about whoring, though for different reasons. She agreed about Daddy, too, and she guessed that Daddy cared so little about them that, if they were to pack up and leave tonight, she'd wave them off cheerfully.

And why shouldn't they leave? They had an apartment to go to and nothing to tie them down here - not even a contract, since Pipit was supposed to be here only temporarily, and Neko wasn't supposed to be here at all.

"Let's leave, then," said Pipit. "Let's tell Daddy we're going and just move into the apartment. We'll stop whoring, you can get some kind of job, and we'll live on that and my income from Mistress Shigemi's."

Neko brightened instantly. She took her hands out of the sink, dried them off, and hugged Pipit tightly. "You're so wonderful, Pipit," she said. "I love you so much."

"Let's do it right now, honey," said Pipit.

They went to the playroom, dressed, threw some clothing and sex toys into a couple of suitcases, fetched their toiletries from the bathroom, and hauled their bags to the living room, where Daddy was sprawled on the sofa watching a "Shark Tank" rerun.

Daddy turned to look at them and said, "If it isn't babycunt and ratfuck, all dolled up for a night on the town."

Pipit said, "We're moving out, Daddy."

"Leaving your kindly old Daddy? What's gotten into you cunts?"

"You've been good to us, Daddy, but we don't want to be whores anymore."

"Maybe I'm not ready for you to quit," said Daddy. She didn't seem as happy for them to go as Pipit had expected.

"We don't need the money," said Pipit. "We can live on my income from Mistress Shigemi's, and Neko can get some kind of job. We don't need to be whores."

"You might find yourself out of a job at Mistress fucking Shigemi's," said Daddy. "One word from me, and you're toast."

Pipit said, "You can't get me fired without getting yourself fired too."

"Stupid cunt," said Daddy, "you don't know a fucking thing - like that I'm part owner. Eighty percent Ai, ten percent Tejo, ten percent yours fucking truly. I'm your fucking boss. Now take your clothes off and kiss Daddy's ass."

"You're the stupid cunt," said Neko hotly. Pipit turned and stared at her in astonishment. She went on, "Sure, you can fire Pipit, but if you do, everybody's going to find out what you've been up to here, pimping us out. Your partnership with Mistress Ai won't be worth shit. And we don't give a fuck anyway. We'll get along, even if we have to work as waitresses somewhere and find more roommates. I love Pipit, and I don't care if life is hard, as long as I get to live with her and I don't have to kiss your ass anymore!"

"I've never met a submissive that wasn't dumb as a rock," said Daddy. "I've always known you were in love with little Miss Cutesy Cunt here. I've been laughing my fucking ass off watching you make cow eyes at her. And do you know how much she loves you? Just enough to get you fired from your fucking job."

Pipit felt her stomach drop through the floor and heat flood into her face. She should have seen this coming.

Neko said, "You're the stupidest bitch in the world if you think you're giving me some kind of big news. I figured that out ages ago - I even know why she did it, which is more than you can say."

"The conniving little cunt did it to get your business," said Daddy.

"She did it, you dumb-ass hag, because of the way it made her feel when she was with me. Isn't that right, sweetie?"

Pipit felt as if she'd been hit on top of the head with a sledge hammer, but she managed to nod.

"You've known this how long?" asked Daddy.

"Since that first day you had me over for tea," said Neko. "It just came to me while we were having sex."

"And you still love this sack of shit?"

Pipit was crying now - she wanted to drop through the floor into hell. Neko took her trembling hand and said, "Yes."

"You trust her?"

"I understand her, and that's better," said Neko.

"You think she loves you?" asked Daddy.

"I'm not half the idiot you take me for," said Neko.

Daddy stared at them for a minute or more, saying nothing. Then she said, "Fuck me." She stared a while longer and then said, "Well, shit." She crossed her arms and tapped a foot - her gaze shifted back and forth between them. Finally she said, "Let's go see Ai and get your fucking job back."

She picked up her phone from a side table, tapped the screen a few times, and held it to her ear. After a few seconds she said, "I gotta come over and talk business. You got somebody with you?" She paused a few seconds and said, "This is important. You can have your massage when we're done. I'll be over in a half hour."

Daddy stood up and said, "Now where's my fucking bag?" Pipit ran to get it.

A half hour later, Mistress Ai was glaring at Neko and saying, "Why did you bring her here?"

Daddy said, "This is the best submissive that ever worked at Mistress Shigemi's. I want to hire her back."

"As you know very well, Raquel, we have a no-tolerance policy concerning prostitution," said Mistress Ai. "We drafted the rule together."

"You think there's a rule against whoring, but the real rule is against getting caught. Our managers know that, and they suspect what's going on and don't want to actually catch anyone - they'd have to fire most of the girls, and wouldn't that be a pain in the ass. So it turns out the rule in reality is against getting ratted out. And guess who ratted out Neko here, for weird-ass reasons it would take Sigmund fucking Freud to explain?"

Pipit sank onto a sofa, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed, burning with shame.

Mistress Ai sat beside her and said, "Is this true, Tosatsu?" Her gentle tone was the scariest thing Pipit had ever heard.

She nodded into her hands, unable to look at her Mistress.

"Can you explain why?" asked Mistress Ai.

Pipit whispered, "It's the feeling." She wanted to explain more, but she couldn't talk without sobbing.

"She's an emotional masochist," said Daddy.

"I know that," said Mistress Ai. "But I thought it was just about sex. I didn't know it involved harm to others. Have you done this kind of thing to anyone else?"

Pipit nodded into her hands again. She was so ashamed and scared.

"Who?" asked Mistress Ai.

"Mouche," said Pipit, stalling for time.

"I know that story," said Mistress Ai. "Anyone else?"

Pipit's shoulders shook. It was too horrible to say.

"Oh my!" Neko breathed. Then she whispered, "Andrew."

"Tell me about Andrew," said Mistress Ai.

Pipit shook her head, still hiding her face, unable to speak.

Mistress Ai ran her fingers into the thick hair on top of Pipit's head - it felt like a caress. Then she closed her fist, pulling her hair painfully, and jerked upwards, forcing her face out of her hands.

"Look at me," said Mistress Ai levelly, "and tell me about Andrew."

Pipit opened her eyes but could hardly see Mistress for her tears. "I got him to fuck me," she whispered.

"What else?"

Pipit was silent: how could she say this?

Neko said, "She gave him strange advice . . ."

"I want her to say it," said Mistress Ai.

Pipit said, "I made him jealous and violent. We played without safewords. I made him hate limits. I made him want to play with Emily without limits or safewords."

"Clever manipulative twat," said Raquel.

"She told me he'd asked to play without limits or safewords," said Mistress Ai, "but she hadn't let him do it."

"He will," said Pipit, looking down again. "Tonight. He's going to tie her up, gag her so she can't safeword, and scare her with a razor. He did it with me this afternoon."

"Fuck me," said Raquel.

"We've got to stop him!" Neko cried.

Pipit was numb. She couldn't think of anything but how fucked she was. She was going to lose everything now - her job, Mistress Ai, Neko. And she'd never see Emily again either. She put her face back into her hands, doubled herself up, and keened.

Mistress Ai jumped up and said, "I'll call." She ran out of the room and came back a few seconds later tapping the screen of a phone. She held it to her ear and waited.

Mistress Ai lowered the phone, looking worried. "No answer. We'd better go over there. They're apartment-sitting for a friend of mine, and I have a spare key."

A few minutes later, the four of them were in a taxi for the short ride to Perry Street. Pipit hadn't wanted to go, but Raquel had hauled her out of the apartment by the ear.

"Chances are everything is all right," said Mistress Ai. "In that case, we'll just let Emily know what's been going on and give Andrew a talking to about safewords and limits."

Pipit didn't think everything was going to be all right. She'd seen Andrew's eyes as he held the razor. She wanted to die.

They let themselves into the building and rode the elevator to the third floor. Pipit's feet got heavier the closer they got to the apartment. She wished Mistress had just fired her and sent her away so she wouldn't have to be here. Mistress Ai knocked on the door. No one answered, though she knocked several times, louder each time.




Pipit Ch. 10: End



"They're probably out," said Mistress Ai, "or having sex. We may end up having to apologize for interrupting their coitus."

She took out a key and opened the door, and all four of them ventured in. Once they were inside, Pipit could hear moans from the direction of the bedrooms.

"No!" Pipit cried. It was Emily's voice, and it tore at her soul. Fear surged inside her - exactly what she'd felt this afternoon, what Emily was feeling now. Pipit had shot Andrew at her friend like an arrow - how could she have done it? She loved Emily! She had to stop it - she was the only one who could. All her numbness vanished in a rush of energy. She ran to the master bedroom, where they'd played just two days before, and stopped in the doorway. Emily was naked and tied, spreadeagled, to the bed. Andrew was standing on the far side of the bed, bending over her, holding the razor, and she was screaming behind her gag, eyes wide. The terror was unbearable - Pipit's heart pounded and she gulped for air.

Mistress Ai, Neko, and Raquel crowded into the doorway behind her. Raquel put a hand on Pipit's shoulder and said, "Fucking idiot . . ."

Mistress Ai whispered, "Wait," and Raquel took her hand away.

Andrew looked up at Pipit, seeming not to notice the others. Emily fell silent.

"No, Master," she gasped. "Stop."

"You said this kind of play would build trust," said Andrew. "You said she'd love it. I think she does."

"No, Master," said Pipit, taking a step into the room. "I was wrong. It's the wrong thing to do."

"But it feels good," said Andrew. "I think she wants me to cut her. You know, just enough to make a nice scar. It'll go well with the tattoos."

"No, Master," said Pipit, taking another step. "She doesn't want you to do that. And I don't think you want to do it either. Why don't you put the razor down? We can all discuss it and figure out what's best."

"I don't think so," said Andrew. "You were right about everything. The important thing is a Master's power. She's been resisting my power, she and Amanda. We'll all be happier when I've put a stop to it."

Pipit edged slowly around the bed. She fought the urge to run - something was keeping her body calm and her voice steady. "Then we should all talk it over," she said. "You, me, and Emily."

"I've decided to throw Amanda out," he continued, as if he hadn't heard. "She's been a problem in our relationship: Emily doesn't submit to me where Amanda's concerned. But after this," he said, nodding towards the razor, "she'll submit to me completely." 

"No, Master," said Pipit. She was just three feet from him now. He'd turned to face her. She took one more step.

Andrew said, "Don't come any closer."

"Master," she said, raised her arms, and closed the distance between them. If she could embrace him and make him want her one more time, she was sure she could control him.

But he pushed her away roughly and shouted, "No!"

She stepped towards him again and reached out with one hand, saying "Please, Master," just as he was raising his left hand, fingers spread as if to ward off an attack, and holding the razor in his right, down at his side. He flinched at her touch, stepped backwards, and stumbled over a shoe. His left hand flew upwards as he fought to regain his balance; his right wheeled in front of him - left, up, right. The razor flashed.

Pipit twisted to the left - too slowly. The right side of her face seemed to burst into flame, and the world turned red. Andrew screamed, and she passed out.

* * *

Pipit drifted partway out of sleep. An unfamiliar voice was saying, as if from a great distance, "She'd be better off in the emergency room." Mistress Ai's voice was saying, "You know very well that a hospital is a hotbed of infection. And we don't need . . ."

* * *

Half conscious again, she heard Andrew say, ". . . you forgive me?" Emily said, "I forgive you, but I can't live with you anymore. You'll . . ."

* * *

Emily again, saying ". . . trust your judgment. . . ." Doors, elevators, taxis, arms holding Pipit up - she was so sleepy. "Wanna lie down," she slurred.

* * *

". . . about a year. There will still be a visible scar, but since it was a clean cut, and not too deep, it'll be thin and colorless, if she treats it well and stays out of the sun. It's a long cut, though. It'll always be noticeable. A good plastic surgeon would know some specialized techniques for minimizing the scarring . . ."

Pipit opened her eyes and said, "No plastic surgeon." She was groggy and it was hard to speak. She had to mumble because moving her mouth made the right side of her face catch fire again. It was hard to move her jaw because of a big tight bandage around her face.

She recognized the room she was in - a bedroom in Mistress Ai's apartment. The sun shone in through the window. The doctor was a lean, blond man, around forty, with close-cropped hair. Mistress Ai, Neko, and Emily were sitting on chairs, talking to him. Neko rushed over to her, sat on the bed, and held her hand.

"Tosatsu, meet Dr. Nystrom," said Mistress Ai. "He's a first-rate physician. He spent last year as my slave, and he's been known to patch up the odd BDSM mishap."

"Why no plastic surgeon, Tosatsu?" asked Dr. Nystrom.

"I want the scar," she muttered.

Dr. Nystrom smiled, and said, "Well, a lot of people love a nice scar, and yours will be an elegant curve, from your right cheekbone down to your jawline."

"You'll be more beautiful than ever," said Neko dreamily.

Mistress Ai said, "You and Neko will stay here with me for a while. Neko's an excellent nurse, as it turns out. When you feel ready, the two of you can go back to work at Mistress Shigemi's. It will be very important, though, that no one strike you on the face for several months."

"You won't need me for a while," said the doctor. "I'll come back when it's time to remove the sutures."

"You'll come and play sometime soon, Ishi?"

He executed a perfect Japanese bow and said, "It's always an honor and a pleasure to play with Mistress Ai."

Pipit closed her eyes, and the world faded again.

When she woke up, she was alone in the room with Emily. She was more awake now, and her face ached.

"I'm sorry, Emily," she said, and meant it, but for some reason didn't feel the urgent misery she usually did when she apologized.

Emily smiled. "Who knows?" she said. "You may have done me a huge favor. I think Andrew is going to need a lot more seasoning before he makes anyone a good Master."

"I did a horrible thing. Why are you here? You ought to hate me."

"I don't know, baby. We're all thinking you've been hiding some scraps of decency inside you somewhere. You tipped your hand last night."

"I'm the same as I ever was, but maybe it'll be harder to take advantage of people now that I have this," Pipit said, touching the bandage.

Emily said, "Amanda wants to pay for you to see a plastic surgeon. She's got a lot of money, you know."

Tears started into Pipit's eyes. Why would Mouche do that for her? "I'm really grateful," she said, "but I meant it when I said I wanted the scar."

They sat for a minute, saying nothing. Pipit said, "What are you going to do next, now that I've wrecked your life?"

"Daniel and Karen have invited Amanda and me to come live with them."

"You're not . . ."

Emily laughed. "Oh, no! Amanda and Karen will play, and I'll be their guest while Amanda and I decide what to do with ourselves next. Daniel wants me to take a job in this tech startup he's invested in. Shows you how far they'll go to keep Amanda close."

"But still you should take it - jobs don't exactly grow on trees around here."

"I might." Emily's face became serious. "You once said you loved me," she said. "Are you . . ."

"Don't worry," said Pipit. She tried to smile, but it felt like a punch, so she gave it up. "I thought it was love, but it wasn't, was it? More like obsession, maybe. Anyway, I seem to have gotten over it now. You've got nothing to fear from me."

* * *

Languid after her orgasm, Emily wandered out of the tiny bedroom, leading her naked slave by the hand. She found Karen sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, watching a news program on a large screen embedded in the wall.

Karen said, "Mouche, dear, Why don't you get Emily some coffee. And get some for yourself while you're about it."

"Yes, Mistress," said Amanda, and set to work. She brought the coffees, settled herself on the floor, back against a cabinet, and watched Emily and Karen watch the news. When the program was done, Karen turned to Emily and said, "Frederick says he saw you at Mistress Ai's party."

"I tried to get him to fuck Pipit," said Emily, smiling.

"He says the last year has taught him a lot about love and relationships. He's a different man."

"I wonder how different," said Emily, thinking he looked the same - as hot as ever.

"You can find out for yourself," said Karen. "Daniel and I have invited him to dinner tomorrow night. We'll understand if you don't want to see him. If you like, we'll send you and Mouche out to a nice restaurant and a club afterwards. But if you stay and have dinner with us here, you'll make Frederick very happy."

Emily paused to assess her feelings. Something was heating up down below her breasts, and the skin of her bottom tingled with remembered pain.

"You don't need to send us out," she said. "I'll be happy to have dinner with Frederick."

* * *

Pipit forced herself to breathe deeply and regularly, holding panic at bay. She'd brought a hand towel to cover her eyes so she wouldn't see what the artist was doing. That and thinking about her lover had brought her almost the whole way through this ordeal. The pain of the needle was nothing.

And wouldn't it be beautiful? She knew Neko would love it - the bracelet of thin barbed wire, its points pricking the skin of her right wrist, making little wounds that bled and would never heal.

* * *

Andrew was getting quite good at making this particular sandwich - the Cuban, with slices of ham and pork, two kinds of cheese, and mustard. He admired the golden color of the buttered and toasted bread as he took the broiling pan from the oven and turned off the gas. This was an accomplishment to be proud of.

He used a spatula to move the sandwich from the broiling pan to a plate - you had to be careful with it till the melted cheese firmed up a bit. He got out a bag of Kettle Chips and put a handful on the plate, taking care to pile them attractively and not scatter them. He took a jar of pickles from the fridge, selected one, and sliced it several times lengthwise with a sharp knife. He fanned out the slices on the plate. He wiped the knife with a dishtowel and cut the sandwich in half.

He stood and admired his work for a moment. It looked good: he was happy. He took a tray from a cabinet and set the plate on it. He returned the pickle jar to the fridge, got out a bottle of Evil Twin Jesus, opened it, and set it on the tray. Finally he put a cloth napkin beside the plate. He carried the tray into the living room where, resplendent in black leather, she was watching an episode of Game of Thrones. He sank to his knees and silently offered her the tray.

When she'd taken it, he got on his hands and knees, sideways in front of her, ass towards the TV. He was naked except for the collar and cock cage. He kept his spine straight; a good table has to be flat. She set the tray on his back and picked up a chip. She took her time eating and drinking. It was a strain - he had to hold very still so as not to upset the beer - but he loved every second of it, knowing that she'd reward him for making a good lunch and being a good table. His cock was so hard it hurt a little in the cage, which was shaped and sized for flaccid cocks, not erect ones.

Just as the credits started to roll, she picked up the tray and said, "Take this to the kitchen and come right back."

He carried the tray to the kitchen and set it on the counter - there'd be time to wash the dishes later. He ran back to the living room, where he stopped in the doorway and stared. A thrill ran through him. She'd taken her pants off and was slouched on the sofa. The beauty of her big bush and ample hips and thighs took his breath away. His cock throbbed and his balls ached. He hadn't had an orgasm in two days, and he knew she'd torture him for hours, days, or maybe even weeks before she allowed him relief. 

Gazing at him impassively, she raised her legs and pulled them up, hands behind her thighs, till her knees almost touched her shoulders.

She said, "Crawl the fuck over here, loser, and kiss Daddy's ass."