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This Time

By: HelenGW



This time when he kissed her there was something different about it. Something more behind the pressure of his lips on hers, one of his broad hands splayed across her lower back, pulling her against him, the other on the back of her neck, controlling her movements. She shuddered when his tongue pressed past her teeth, licking like flames inside her mouth, and she opened her lips further to accept his assault. She didn't know what had brought this on; they were not a new couple, they were not reunited, they hadn't been fighting, they hadn't not been fighting... They had made love this morning, in fact, slow, comfortable, satisfying, and now... His hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back, hard enough to hurt, controlled enough to reassure, and a sound escaped her throat, something she had never heard before. Moisture flooded her cunt and he seemed to know, laughing harshly against her lips, the hand on her waist slipping between her thighs to cup her through her jeans, thumb pressing against the unforgiving material. Her knees buckled and she stumbled backwards but he caught her waist again, backing her toward the stairs leading up to the bedroom. 

"Wha—" She tried to speak but couldn't. Wanted to ask what brought this on, wanted to know, but didn't. They had been together for two years, passionately together, not passively, and despite his massive strength, he had never taken her like this. Mentioned it, maybe, but never tried. And despite her own strength, maybe just a fraction of his, she had never considered letting him. But now... As he backed her up the stairs, her feet finding each step slowly, cautiously, his lips burning against hers, against her jaw, her throat, she felt desire ooze through her, its molten intensity melting away any resistance, any hesitation. She wanted whatever he wanted. She wanted this. 

She folded her arms around his neck for support, and finally they reached the top, and his pace lengthened, one hard thigh pushing between hers as he guided her into the bedroom, and when they stood at the base of the bed he pulled away, eyes hot, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

"Take it off," he ordered, and he had never ordered her before. "Take it all off."

She hesitated for a split second before her fingers went to the buttons of her blouse, fumbling to separate the fabric, her own heavy breathing echoing his. When she glanced up she saw that he was already naked, his cock jutting out hard and thick and a rush of heat swirled through her belly, soaking her panties. 

He muttered something low and indistinct, closing the distance between them, his hands at the top of her jeans, unzipping them, pushing them over her thighs, her knees, guiding her feet out of them. She managed the last button, and was pushing the shirt past her shoulders when suddenly she felt his mouth on her cunt, his lips hot and urgent through the thin fabric of her panties, and she cried out with unexpected urgency, letting him press her back onto the bed, spreading her knees wide. He remained kneeled on the floor, between her splayed legs, and her heart pounded in her chest so loud as to drown out his own rough breathing. 

He pressed his lips against her cunt again, his tongue stabbing through the silk covering her shaved mound, and her thighs trembled, opening further, her hips rising up instinctively to meet him. His calloused fingers pressed into the delicate skin on her inner thigh, spreading her wider, but never uncovering her weeping pussy. He licked her through the fabric, hard and hot and wet, and her clit stood at attention, swelling faster and harder than she could ever remember. 

She moaned, her head thrashing on the quilt-covered bed, eyes tightly shut against the thrill of sensation twisting through every inch of her being. And when his lips fastened around her jutting clit, pulling it into his mouth, grinding it against his teeth, she bucked frantically, desperately, a cry rising from her throat that she couldn't hold back. 

And then he stopped.

Her eyes flew open, shocked, horrified, almost ashamed, and he rose above her, elbows braced on either side of her head, and he lowered his lips to hers. She could taste the faint musky smell of her own drenched pussy on his lips, though she didn't fight it, let him kiss her, her tongue battling with his as one of his hands dropped down to undo the clasp of her bra, push it aside, cover her breast with his hot hand. 

She moaned into his mouth and pushed her hips upward, seeking, throbbing, meeting his hard cock but unable to find the push she needed to go over the edge. 

"Please," she sobbed into his mouth, but if he heard her he didn't show it, the hand on her breast sliding down to her hip, pinning her to the bed as he began a gentle fucking motion, sliding the fat head of his cock over the silk panties, teasing her clit, sliding through the juices that escaped her cunt. 

"I want you to beg," he whispered against her lips, and she would have been terrified of his iron control if not for the note of barely concealed threat in his voice. He had often brought her to the edge before easing off, teasing her time and again before tossing them both off the brink. But he had never made her beg; always he had known what she needed, never asked to hear it. 

"I said... please," she got out, her breath escaping in hungry pants, her hips fighting a losing battle against his heavy hand. "Please," she repeated. 

She could feel his head shake against her lips, a firm no, and then he dropped lower down her body until his lips fastened around a turgid nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth, no pretense of gentleness or caution, his teeth tight enough to hurt, and she fisted her hands in his hair to pull him away.

"Take it!" he snapped, one thick hand snagging her wrists, pinning them against her chest as he moved his brutal attention to the other nipple, biting down harder than the first, tongue flicking against the reddened peak. 

She cried out, an indistinct sound that could have been resistance or acquiescence; it didn't matter. He wasn't going to stop and her sopping pussy wasn't telling him no.

His lips continued southwards, over her flushed stomach, piercing her navel, and she fought again to grind against him, and again he denied her. 

"Please," she whispered through swollen lips, weakly lifting her head to see his own head hovering between her thighs. "Please. Whatever you want."

He ripped the flimsy panties off in a shockingly swift move, and her eyebrows raised in response, her pussy gushing, wetness slipping through the cleft of her ass, and she had never been this wet, this hot, this desperate. Even from here she could see the swollen nub of her clit jutting up from her thick folds. 

He covered her clit with his mouth, sucked it hard, and she bucked, a split second from climax, until he pulled his face away, studied his handiwork with a smug smirk, and then brought his hand down on her cunt with stunning force. 

She shrieked, hips bucking up despite his pressure, and she fought to close her legs but couldn't, his broadly muscled shoulders blocking her efforts. 

"No," she panted, watching his hand rise again, and he ignored her, bringing it swiftly back down on her throbbing clit. Another scream escaped, more moisture streaming from her cunt, and she gave up the fight, her head dropping back onto the bed, and she could feel the sweat on her hairline, her upper lip, sheer desperation welling up inside her. 

And then he was still. The only sound was their harsh breathing and the steady pounding of her heart, and after a moment she looked up again to see him still between her thighs, one hand out of sight, most likely wrapped around his own pulsing cock. 

Their eyes locked, his hot and sure, hers questioning, curious, but unmistakably desperate. His gaze still fastened on hers, he raised a finger to his lips, licked it, and then brought it to the top of her pussy. And then painfully slowly, he traced it down her oozing pink slit, circling her clutching entrance, before continuing its path... to her clenched anus. 

Her mouth formed an 'O,' a silent denial as his finger pressed against the tight, virgin hole, and he never took his eyes off of hers as he shoved through her resistance until his finger was buried inside her ass to the first knuckle. 

Every muscle in her was quivering, with desperation and embarrassment and heat, and she wanted to look away from the violating look in his eyes, but couldn't. 

"Yes," he whispered, lowering his head to flick at her clit, and she flexed around him and he pushed his finger further up her ass, her skin screaming in protest, and this time she couldn't meet his eyes, couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe that the one thing on her Absolutely Off Limits list was looking more and more likely. She didn't want to be ass fucked, but she didn't want him to stop. And while there was the slightly uncomfortable feeling of having a finger up her ass -- and the terrifying premonition of his long, thick cock soon taking its place -- there was no denying the drenched mess of her cunt and her absolute response to his control. 

"I'm going to fuck your ass," he whispered, sliding his finger back and forth up the dark channel, making her whimper. "Now turn over."

When she made no move to do it herself, he flipped her onto her stomach effortlessly, and pushed a pillow under her hips so her ass was raised and accessible. The pulse in her throat was pounding and she could feel her stomach clenching in anticipation even as she could feel her anus tightening in dread.

"You can take it," he murmured, his teeth nipping into her ass as she felt the cool spread of lubricant on her virgin hole, a thick finger pushing it inside, a second joining it despite her pained whimper, the two scissoring rapidly, stretching her. 

Her cheeks burned and she pressed her face into the bed, even as her pussy clenched desperately. Her hips twisted against his invasion of their own volition, and she didn't know if she was saying no or saying please, she just wanted his hands or his lips on her clit, his cock buried inside her, finishing what he had started. 

When his fingers pulled away she felt the heat of his strong thighs between hers, his callused hands spreading her ass, the air tingling against her exposed anus. And then his cock was there, searing her virgin flesh as he began the slow but inexorable entrance, pushing past every physical and mental barrier she was able to put up. She twisted her face into the mattress, pain and shame and an undeniable lust making it nearly impossible to remain still for his invasion. 

There was a sharp pain as the head finally broke through, and she cried out, and felt one heavy hand massaging her lower back, even as the other held her ass open for his penetration. She knew he was watching every inch of his cock slip into her tight back hole, and her throat tightened convulsively, and she wondered how she would look him in the eye in the morning, knowing he had fucked her ass. 

The hand on her back slipped under, stroking her stomach, then lower, whispering over her clit, making her tremble and jerk, and he hissed and thrust forward hard, burying several more inches of his cock up her ass. Her own breath caught on a choked cry, and she felt almost unbearably stretched, violated, and so, so wet. 

"Nearly there," he whispered, pressing forward, determined, unrelenting, and she felt the tender tissues part until his flesh smacked against hers and every fat hot inch of his cock was buried inside her asshole. 

When the tremors subsided he leaned over her as best he could, stroking her hair, her cheek, lips fluttering over her shoulder. 

"Tell me my cock is up your ass," he growled in a low voice, and she turned her head away, breath whooshing through her parted lips, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "Say it," he demanded, and it was like she could feel his cock expanding inside her asshole. But she remained silent, determined, eyes squeezing shut as he pinched her swollen clit at the same moment he pulled almost completely out of her ass. And then he shoved back in. 

She screamed then, part pain, part unbelievable desire, and he reared up above her, hands on her hips, muscles bunching as he began to ass fuck her. 

"Say it!" he demanded, and she groaned as she took it, hands fisted in the mattress, cunt crying out for attention. 

"Touch me," she whispered instead, and, surprised, maybe, he hesitated in his rough thrusts, long enough to say, "Where?"

"My clit," she ordered, eyes still closed, juices trickling down her thighs. "Touch my clit while you fuck my ass."

He groaned then, loud and long, and resumed his fucking, hands still controlling her hips. 

"Do it!" she shrieked, one hand slipping between her own thighs to do the job herself. But he stopped her, pulling all the way out of her ass, and turning her again, so she lay on her back, knees bent and legs spread, both holes open for his attention. 

"Your ass is so tight," he grunted, staring down at her, and she blushed, looking anywhere but at the fat, shiny cock he was preparing to push back into her ass. "And it's stretched wide now, waiting for my dick."

And then he lowered his head, back to her clit, and she clenched her thighs around his head, not willing to let him to go until her climax washed over her. His tongue pressed inside her pussy, sliding through her copious juices, swirling them around her throbbing clit, pinching it between his teeth. She groaned her encouragement, thrusting her hips into his face, and when she was there, so close, she felt his hands on her knees, spreading her, freeing his tongue.

"No!" she cried, and he stared at her steadily as he rested his cock against her asshole and began to push. Simultaneously his fingers found the sopping entrance to her cunt and two pushed inside, his thumb sweeping over her clit, and he fucked her hard, almost too hard, and her tender flesh screamed in protest. But he didn't slow down, didn't gentle, his free hand gripping beneath her knee as he spread her wider, watched his assault on her reddened ass. 

She could see the pulse in his throat, the tightening of his jaw, and knew he was close, knew this time there was no stopping. His thumb pressed harder against her clit, the fingers in her pussy finding that bundle of nerves and rubbing in circles, and as his pounding increased she found herself meeting him thrust for thrust, pleasure and pain melting into one as cries she didn't recognize as her own swirled through the room. 

And when she was there, on the brink, as his cock pushed past every futile protest she had ever had, she trembled uncontrollably, trying to keep her eyes on his as they both hovered on the edge. 

"Now," he whispered, pulling his cock out of her ass as the same time his hand left her cunt, and before she could cry out her disappointment, he was shoving his thick cock back up her ass and swinging his hand down on her seeking clit. 

And she went over. 

Sensation after sensation rolled over her, an uncontrollable tensing of every muscle, spasm after spasm washing through her cunt, her ass, clutching his dick, squeezing every inch of semen out of his twitching cock. He growled loudly as he dropped on top of her, a few short thrusts up her ass, ensuring she got every drop, and she shuddered as her muscles slackened, until the only sound was her heart beat. 

She didn't know how long they remained there, sweat mingling as his broad chest crushed hers, and she became vaguely aware of his lips on her neck, his tongue in her ear, licking over her lips. She writhed weakly, futilely, and then he chuckled and pulled his dick out of her ass with an embarrassing squelch. 

She closed her eyes as the flush rose over her face, avoiding his questioning stare, but he waited her out until she opened her eyes and looked into his brutally handsome face.

"Okay?" he asked finally, and since she couldn't find the words, she nodded, wanting to look away, but not able. "Good," he said, almost smugly satisfied as he rolled to the side. 

She tried to roll away herself, planning to head to the bathroom, splash her face with cold water, clean herself, come to terms with what had just happened. But he had other plans, and his thick fingers found their way between her thighs, and as before, his own strength won out, and she let him finger fuck her like that for a moment. 

"Give me a second," he said, "And I'll fuck you here." 

"I don't think I can take it," she said, her first coherent sentence in what felt like a lifetime. 

"You'll take it," he assured her. "You'll take it everywhere. I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think—" she started, but he pushed a fourth finger into her cunt, making her swallow her words. 

"You'll take it," he repeated. "Trust me."

And she did. 

This Time



I'm trembling ever so slightly as I shift my weight on my black heels. I've no way of knowing which crowd of deplaning passengers will be your crowd, so I scan each face, looking for you.

I see you a split-second before you see me. You're dashing; the navy blazer hugs your wide shoulders and cuts in at your waist, emphasizing your masculine shape. 

I'm glad I opted for slightly dressier wear than my usual jeans. My long black skirt is modest but clings to my hips and rear in just the right places. My top is white, demure, but anyone looking closely would notice the hint of the black bra underneath and the deep décolleté subtly shadowed by the mandarin collar. My dark auburn hair is long and loose. The wolf whistles and cat-calls from the boys' high school soccer team I walked past in the parking lot suggest I look pretty good.

You have a backpack over your shoulder and a duffle in your other hand and still you manage to envelop me completely in your arms.

Our embrace is brief but electric. A quick kiss, full of promise.

You hold me close to you as we walk toward the parking garage elevator. We've gone but a dozen steps when you stop suddenly on the concourse and grab my face, turning me toward you for a full open-mouthed kiss, heedless of the crowds of people around us. My legs shake, I feel you hard against me. I wonder if we'll make it to the hotel.

We break apart enough to move and continue to the elevators. I'm briefly disappointed that we don't get the car to ourselves but revel in the rising sexual tension. 

You're sweet, chivalrous, protective as we walk through the airport. You laughingly tolerate my insistence that I know where I parked and are gentlemanly at being proved right in the end. You balance me as I catch my heel near the curb and call me honey. It feels like you're taking possession of me, and I'm surprised to find I like it.

I give you the keys to my Explorer. You look at me as I slide into the passenger seat, glancing down as my skirt rides up my thigh. The gaze you shoot me is smoldering, demanding.

We make it out of the airport, heading into the city, talking quietly while you drive, holding hands, touching each other over the arm rest between the bucket seats.

I think we're both surprised when we decide to stop for dinner, but the conversation is just as stimulating as the caresses are. We're enjoying the anticipation, the foreplay, the relaxation.

You take us to a cool little bar, an old speakeasy. You order for us both. We talk, laugh, drink. Every so often, I drop my shoe under the table and run my foot up your leg. Every time I do, you devour me with your eyes. 

It's warm, clear. We wait outside for the valet to come back with the truck. I stand behind you, my arms around your waist, my four-inch heels bringing the top of my head to your shoulders. You hold my arms tightly against you, I lean my cheek against the broad expanse of your back.

A man walks past us and stops. He says he's Navajo. It's like something out of a script, a lucid dream. He calls me beautiful, tells you you're lucky. You agree with him, and he serenades us briefly with some pop tune from our high school years. I'm dizzy, lost in this reality, desperate with desire, while fate, karma, and destiny whisper in my ear.

We wait impatiently at the reception line of the hotel to check-in. The man in front of us tries to negotiate a better rate.

"They'd better get us our room, or they're going to watch me take you right here in the lobby," you growl in my ear. Your voice makes me shiver. The dampness between my legs grows. I feel you hard against my rear as you stand with you arms around my waist. I press back ever so slightly against you. Your grip on me tightens.

Finally, we're in the room you booked. We stand still together, take in the view, the moment.

I turn in your embrace. There is nothing tentative about this kiss. Your hands tangle in my hair. I clutch at your back, pull you tight to me.

We stumble back against the wall, hands and mouths every where. I tug your shirt out of the waist of your pants, run my hands up over your stomach. Your bare skin is hot under my fingertips.

I moan low in my throat as you yank my skirt up, cup my ass. You have me pressed against the wall with your whole body. I can barely move as you grind against me. I'm wet, aching. My nipples are stiff inside my bra, every inch of my skin aflame. I give myself over completely to my desire, to you.

You step back, unbutton your shirt and toss it on the chair, pull your tee-shirt over your head. I start to unbutton my blouse but you stop me, taking over the job yourself. My skirt drops to the floor and I'm standing before you in my black push-up bra, black lace boyshorts, and those heels.

You walk me back toward the bed; I sit when the backs of my knees hit the mattress. You step out of your pants and boxers. You're gorgeous, stiff, hard for me. You press me back into the bed, lift my legs one at a time, pull off my shoes. You drop a kiss on the arch of my foot before lowering it back down.

I wrap my arms around your neck, pull your head to me. You straddle me. We kiss deeply, licking, sucking, tasting each other. You lift me, move me to the head of the bed, nestle me in the stack of pillows.

You kiss my neck, I reach down and stroke you, spreading the wetness from your tip down your hard, hot shaft. You growl into my mouth, slap my rear, pull my panties off and toss them aside.

You slide your hand up my back, unclasp my bra. My breasts are flushed, nipples dark and stiff. You duck your head, take one nipple in your mouth and capture the other between your fingers, rolling and pinching it. I moan, get wetter, press my hips up so I can feel you against my core. You're hard, hot, so big.

You trail one hand down over my stomach, over the curve of my hip. Your hand goes between my legs, your fingers teasing me, dipping into me, spreading my wetness around. You slide one finger into me. I buck against your hand. You quickly add two more fingers, filling me up, thrusting deep, again, again.

I writhe under you, helpless to your ministrations, so turned on that I don't panic when I feel your thumb probe my rear. No one has ever touched me like that; I'm nervous but far too aroused to do anything but go with it. 

It only takes seconds before your hands bring me to an intense climax. I moan into your kisses as I ride the waves of pleasure.

I barely have time to breathe before you slide down my body and press your face between my legs. You're incredible, licking and sucking me. Ecstasy. I want to give you the same; I turn and take you into my mouth. 

You taste salty, tangy, perfect. Your skin is soft, hot, taut and smooth. I swirl my tongue around you, then tilt my head back and take you as deep as I can, into my throat. You groan, growl, and thrust into my mouth a few times before you move back above me, kissing me.

Everything slows down.

You're between my legs, I raise my knees, let them fall open. You hold yourself above me, looking into my eyes. You caress my cheek with one hand, rain gentle kisses on my lips and neck. You press into me. God.

I'm so wet, so tight. I feel everything as you push into me, so deep. You pull out, slide back in, again. I pull my legs a little higher, you go just a bit deeper, bottom out against my cervix. I've never been so full, so completely taken.

You grind your pelvis against me, circling your hips without pulling back. I wrap one leg up around you. You grab the headboard with one hand, support the weight of your torso with your other arm. You look into my eyes as you pull slowly out. I'm lost in arousal, my body responding, reacting to your touch. 

You send me over the edge as you slam back into me. I call your name, once, twice.

You don't stop, and neither does my orgasm. The waves of pleasure grow more intense as you pound into me, fast and hard. God. Oh God, yes.

I'm totally uninhibited, touching your body, your face, your tattoo. I love watching you move in and out of me, watching the lust, pleasure on your face.

I know you're getting close, closer. Your thrusting loses rhythm as you begin to lose control.

"Come inside me. Baby, please. Come inside me."

You stiffen, thrust hard against me, and I feel you pulse inside me. You're so big, so deep that I actually feel each spasm, each release as it happens.

You collapse atop me. I wrap my arms around you, holding you as close as I can. I stroke the back of your head, your shoulders. You make no move to pull out; you actually seem to press closer to me. 

We rest. We have hours of love-making ahead of us, but for the moment we stay lost in this time.



This Time...



Part One

Carol leaned back against the leather seat of the limousine. Tired of sitting and staring out the window she fought the urge to stretch. She had been in the back of the car for nine hours on the way to a place she had not been in fifteen years. She could no longer see very much outside the tinted window as the sun was only gracing the top of the green hills and the main road had been left some two hours ago.

She had almost wished she had worn a t-shirt and jeans, but instead she had worn something much more appropriate to her mother's station—a navy pencil skirt and an ivory blouse. She had kept her long brown hair down, and it reached her waist in silky tresses that would later fuss if they were not eventually put up.

This world of shadowed trees that lined the thin highway was her mother's world. Never once as a child Carol could have imagined that her mother longed to live a life style that to most would seem very unusual to the rest of the world. Once, she had come for three months to see what this world was like simply to satisfy her curiosity.

She had found a world filled with rules and love. The citizens gladly gave up the rest of the outside world to take part in this extended lifestyle.

Carol could not argue with the people she had met. She saw their happiness and the love they had for one another. Wasn't that what everyone wants in the world anyway? She had to remind her twenty-year-old self back then.

But she had also known the world was not for her. Children were raised outside of the lush, grand, sprawling estates. Her mother had returned to the everyday world with her as a baby. Not once Carol could remember that her mother seemed unhappy, until just before she returned to this hidden world. By then, Carol was an adult, starting to live her own life.

Her mother's friends had rarely ventured to go visit, but they had visited when Carol was young. To her young eyes then, there was nothing unusual about her mother's friends. To satisfy her own curiosity, Carol had returned with her mother. And she had been welcomed, and treated respectfully, as her mother was welcomed back.

And after three months, Carol realized that this was her mother's world. That it was a decision her mother had made to return, not because she had wanted to but because it called her. Carol could not deny her mother's happiness, but for Carol, she had dreams and those dreams had been cultivated without knowledge of the world her mother had been separated from while raising her.

Carol had kissed her mother's soft cheek with tears and then was driven away. In that time there had been letters, but not one visit. Her mother did not mind that her daughter had not chosen this life and this world. It was not for everyone and she had been satisfied her daughter had no words about where her mother had chosen to go.

Three days ago, as she came home from the grocery store, there was a black limo waiting outside her condo. It was the cloud that tainted the amazing weather in the middle of spring. In the car on the way home, Carol had hoped to take a walk before making dinner. Instead, the door on the far side of the limo had opened, and out stepped an older man with an elegant black cane. He wore a simple Navy suit and a grey tie. His graying hair was short. While the limo might have seemed out of place, he was not. The only trace that he was from her mother's world was the cane. There would have been other signs too, a ring, his belt buckle. But the cane was the first and most prominent symbol. It was a part of his rank in the society.

"May I help you with your bags?" he asked as if he had simply been sitting on the front step all this time.

Instinctively, Carol initially clutched the grocery bags closer to her. But then another memory returned.

"Sir Glen?" she whispered softly. He was still lean and strong, but there were more prominent lines when he smiled and there was much more grey than before.

"I do remember a time Child when I was 'Uncle Glen'." He kissed her cheek and took a bag from her. "You are the very image of your mother when I first laid eyes on her. She was a vision then, and you do her so much justice."

Carol trembled. There wasn't any good reason for Glen to here before her. "Please, won't you come in..."

"Carol!" a shrill voice from the condo above leaned over a rail.

Carol looked up. "Yes Mrs. Reynolds?" she asked knowing full well what that busy body neighbor was going to complain about.

"You can't leave that monstrous vehicle parked like that here! Tell that man whore of yours to take his toy and leave it at home if he's to come calling for you."

Carol looked over apologetically at Glen. Glen did nothing but sweep his hand to encourage her ahead.

"After you Carol." And as she led him to her door, the limo pulled away.

They climbed the concrete stairs up to the second floor, past Mrs. Reynolds, a lonely widow in a faded blue housecoat and a flowered dress.

"I've got my eye on you." She mumbled and slid back into her own condo, leaving the door open a crack.

"Mrs. Reynolds, this is my Uncle Glen. He's come for a visit." Carol leaned over to introduce him.

"Uncle! A likely story." They heard her scoff. "A woman as well kept as you does not have an 'uncle'." And with that, the door slammed shut and the sound of the dead bolt sliding across punctuated the bitter busybody's comment.

Again, Carol looked up to Glen and this time he only smiled. Carol fumbled with her keys and opened the door and they entered.

The apartment was clean. There was nothing that could have been there while she had been gone nearly nine hours.

Glen walked to the island and placed his canvas bag on top and started unpacking it. Carol began to put things away from her bag.

"Can I get you something? Tea? Coffee?" she offered as she put away her groceries.

"Tea would be wonderful." He found a kitchen chair and settled into it, his cane just across his lap.

"Is my mother all right?" Carol asked as she put the kettle on the white stove to boil.

Glen shook his head. "I am afraid she is in frail health Carol. It is not advisable that we move her. She is comfortable. She has said nothing about you, but it would do her a world of good to see you."

Carol's mind reeled. "She's said nothing in her letters."

Glen only shook his head sadly. "I had wanted to bring you back earlier. She is ... stubborn."

"She wouldn't have let you come if there was any hope." Carol selected a glass mug and began to steep the tea. She suppressed a sob.

"Milk?" she asked

"No, thank you." Glen watched Carol. "Please sit with me."

"There is nothing anyone can do?" Carol looked up. "I have money..."

Glen reached over and took Carol's hands. "It's not money Child." He said softly, "it's her time. Do you wish to travel with me tonight or do you need some time?"

He sipped from his cup watching with concern as Carol worked through the news.

Carol bit her lower lip. "I'll need a few days. I have work to arrange so I can leave."

Glen put down an ivory business card and slid it across the glass table to Carol.

"This is the number for the limo and driver. My majordomo. He'll bring you to your mother. If you need anything, tell him, he'll get it for you." Glen put down the mug and stood up. It was the first time they mentioned the difference between their worlds.

"Sir Glen, please, tell her I will come." She could not meet his eyes. Glen smiled as if she had.

Glen said nothing and let himself out. "Sara, you did a wonderful job raising such a beautiful and gifted daughter." He said to the air around him.

The next few days were a blur.

The phrase, "My mother is very sick, I need to see her." Had been repeated so many times at work, just the very image of what she might see when she finally made it to her mother's side was filled with personal stories from her co-workers.

It seemed unusual to her co-workers that Carol would now mention that she had family. It did seem sudden, but Carol had been very quiet and never shared with her co-workers. However, if Carol needed to bring it up, it must be true. She never would have left if it weren't important.

But in two days, she had packed. There had been the usual things of necessity, but then there had been one gift from her mother she had brought with her back to the 'real world'. She had never been able to convince herself to get rid of the leather cape, a gift from her mother before she had left.

It felt odd to still have it. She had believed when she had opened the package that she would have eventually donated it to charity. Yet, after all this time she had hung onto it. And even now, she wondered if her mother had hoped that she would return to her mother's world, and take a place in its society.

And so it was carefully cleaned and then put into her bag. If nothing else, she remembered that how you dressed was as much an indicator of your status within the society as what title you carried.

And so early in the morning a man dressed inconspicuously as a limo driver waited patiently at the door and took Carol's bags down to the limo. She never saw his eyes, as his cap was pulled low. When asked his name he only shook his head and opened the door to let her into the darkened insides of the vehicle and she was driven away only moments later.

Part Two

As it had grown later, Carol had grown more restless being alone in the back of the vehicle. She had enjoyed the assortment of food she had found in the limo, but she now had a needed to get up and move about. But just when she felt she could no longer stand being in the back of the limo, it stopped on a long drive way.

She looked up and saw the alabaster building that looked very much like a Greek temple. The door opened and she slid out.

"Welcome Miss Carol." Said a man dressed in ornate green robes, as if he had stepped from the pages of Ancient Greek history. Even his sandals were laced up his well-muscled legs. "I am Mr. Jacob, Lady Juliana is unable to see to your welcome, but she wishes you a pleasant stay here. She will be here in the morning."

"Is my mother here?" Carol asked.

"No Miss Carol. She is still several hours away." The man apologized. "You are still in the 'Transition Zone'. We do not let the limos past this area. You will continue on in carriage. She is at Sir Glen's Estate. My lady's home here is often mistaken for a hotel. So sometimes we take in guests such as your self. But not all our guests receive the same amenities. You have anything you wish, including myself at your full disposal."

Carol debated getting back into the limo and demanding to go further this very instant, but the thought of another full day in the limo was unappealing at that very instant. She shuddered at Mr. Jacob's offer not interested in him at all.

"If I could just have a room to rest and take a bath, I shall be very grateful to you and your Mistress for the night."

Mr. Jacob bowed his head respectfully. "We have a room ready, a bath will be drawn."

He motioned to the front entrance at the top of the stairs. Carol climbed the stairs and then briefly looked back. Mr. Jacob was gone. She went through the doors and to her amazement Mr. Jacob was there by the reflecting pool in the main entrance.

"This way Miss Carol."

She was led down a hall to a grand wooden with a red carpet runner in the middle of the wide staircase.

"Just the first room on your right. There is a girl in there drawing your bath. If you want anything, you have just to ask her." And again Mr. Jacob disappeared.

Carol briefly wondered if Lady Juliana enjoyed keeping the genders of her household separate but it was not for her to make a comment on how Lady Juliana controlled her own home.

Carol wearily climbed the stairs and slid open the door to her room. A young woman with a white toga and simple gold braided belt was in a tiled room beyond the bedroom. She had a large urn of water that she carefully tipped into the freestanding tub. Carol looked at the inviting soft bed with a red canopy and gold braided pillows, feeling as if she hadn't slept in days.

"Miss Carol, when you are ready." The servant said softly waiting by the door, her eyes down cast.

Carol went into the white tiled room and felt the steam of the bathroom draw her in. Heedlessly, Carol began to remove her blouse and was startled when the woman gently pulled away the blouse.

Carol almost grabbed it back to cover her tan lace bra. Recovering, "Please, I will be fine. I would like to bathe and rest. I do not need your assistance."

"As you wish." And the servant slid away.

Once naked, Carol slipped into the water and leaned back. As the water touched her skin, she sat up, pinning her hair in a bun and then leaning back in the tub. She closed her eyes.

After some time, she reluctantly rose from the bath and found a red towel waiting on next to her. Carol dried herself off and then lay in the bed, with the towel wrapped around her body. She returned to the bedroom and found that her belongings had been unpacked, to her surprise; there was a photo of her mother on the nightstand.

"I'm here Momma." She whispered, not even wondering how the picture was able to be here on the nightstand.

For the first time in days, she slept.

The sun drifted between the curtains of the room and slowly, Carol's eyes opened. The servant from last night had returned and slowly opened the curtains.

"Lady Juliana requests that you join her for breakfast." The servant was apprehensive; guests of Carol's status were very unusual. One could make an assumption that the guest was in process of making their decision to join the world. There had been no mention if Carol was going to join them as a servant. But servants were not taken to grand rooms such as these. It was only right to treat her as an honored guest but they were all curious as to what her real purpose being here was.

Carol slowly stretched and slid from the bed. Carol's sense of belonging was well placed by her three-month stay. She would not make any demand of a servant for a task she had no interest in doing herself.

"Shall I set out your clothes Miss Carol?" asked the servant. And dressing and bathing were her tasks to do alone.

Carol thought about it.

"My mother, I will get to see her today. Please put out the black dress." Carol slipped into the bathroom.

The servant sensed Carol's hesitation when she was done with the bathroom and she slipped away so Carol could dress in peace.

Carol had been surprised now that it was morning of how easily it was for her to order someone around. And how she could recall all the sense of protocol and how people treated her because she was lumped in one of the tiers of this society differently due to the fact her mother was so honored and that she did not belong to this world directly.

"Breakfast is being served in the Blue Room. Down the stairs, through the main hall on the left." The servant said returning to find Carol putting her hair up.

"Thank you."

In the blue room, there was a small table and in a blue suede chair sad Lady Juliana. Carol entered the room saying, "Thank you for your hospitality..."

Juliana stood up to greet Carol.

"It was the least I could do."

Carol stopped half way between the door and Juliana. "Julie?"

Lady Juliana held her ground, her cane beside her chair. With a reminiscent smile she mournfully said, "No one has called me Julie in a long time Carol. I believe you were the last to do so."

"Please have a seat, you must be hungry. I know you are eager to see your mother."

Carol followed mechanically, unable to raise her eyes to Julie. If her days had been long before, today would be even longer.

Part Three 

Carol had been twenty, so going to what would have been colloquially described as a 'sex party' was not going to be a problem. Certainly, she did not have any wish to be there with her mother, but curiosity was getting the best of her. After all, if this is where her mother wanted to be now that Carol had decided to move out and live on her own, then at least she wanted to know her mother would be safe and happy here.

So Carol followed her mother into the festival. She was a seated guest, as was her mother. Already some of the guests were playing with their partners sexually. Carol was embarrassed but did her best to suppress her interest and at times jealousy as she watched the men and women fondle and whisper to each other in the more common rooms of the estate. Her mother had a man kneeling next to her, a servant from the estate they were visiting.

"Would you care that I please your daughter as well?" asked the servant impishly to her mother.

Maternal instinct had flooded her mother, but before her mother could say a word, Carol had risen.

"I'm going to wander." She told her mother. The servant did not seem at all disappointed, but Carol was privately relieved that he paid her so very little heed and was totally engrossed in her mother.

"Just be careful my dear." Her mother said.

Carol headed along the hallway that over looked the garden. Seeing the tall hedges standing like soldiers with only torches casting long, dark shadows into the night made her want to go outside. She found a door and headed onto the terrace. She sat on a marble bench and ran her finger along the beaded groove on the edge of the bench.

It had only been three weeks. And now, tonight, unsettled her. The couples enjoyed each other's company oblivious to her. Watching them seemed wrong.

There had been boyfriends in high school. And she had watched her friends make out then. But now there seemed to be something different. All these adults had found this world and made it their own. It wasn't just about the heady lust that she had thought was love as a teenager. Their love here seemed more purposeful, more meaningful. She was jealous of her mother's skill in being flirtatious. She was jealous of the companions who found comfort in other's arms.

She gave herself a tight hug.

Miss Julie had been in the maze looking for a servant when she came out and saw Carol sitting on the edge of the terrace.

"Hello." Julie had said, realizing that Carol was lost in thought as she climbed the stairs that were hidden by a large manicured hedge.

Carol's head snapped up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Carol looked at Julie, realizing that the woman in the body hugging blue dress that went from her neck straight down with what Carol would later call 'a window to her cleavage' was nearly her own age. Julie's hair blonde was up in a French knot and not a tendril of hair was out of place. And the moonlight shone from behind her casting an eerie midnight halo around her.

"I didn't see you inside." Carol said softly. Carol shrunk away. Her mother had warned her that not all companions were of the calm, peaceful variety. Most of her mother's friends were very pleasant and had never given her the feeling of pressure or even lecherous looks over her body. No one had taken her aside and asked if she was intending on staying. And certainly no one seemed to pressure her to stay. But without her mother next to her, she was very unsure of herself. And she wasn't quite sure why.

"I was needed elsewhere as Lord Xavier sent me on an errand." Julie explained. "I am Miss Julie. You're new."

The rehearsed line came easily to Carol. "My mother is Lady Sara, returned after these years. I am here for a while."

"Guests as you are, are very rare." The comment slipped from Julie before she knew it had.

Carol dismissed it; she knew her presence was unsettling to most who were here. She wasn't even considering living here and adopting this way of life. She had seen some beautiful things, but she wanted to find other ways of life before deciding this was the one. But the butterflies in her stomach kept telling her something else.




This Time...



"What are you doing outside?"

"I didn't want to stifle my mother's selected companion for the evening. He was very interested in too many things tonight." Julie did not miss at all that this was the very vision of Lady Sara. Thinner perhaps, and considerably younger, but Carol had her own sense of beauty. Julie immediately chastised herself for even assessing Carol's assets as a person.

She is just a guest of our world. She won't be here for long. She reminded herself.

"A bald man, with a blue tattoo on his neck?" she asked.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"It is my job. I serve Lord Xavier. I know all his companions housed here. If you wanted to be more than a guest, you would first come here and I would help introduce you into all the things you would need to know."

"Is there a difference?"

"By title. Companions have only first names; I have a title, as does Lord Xavier, Lady Daire, and Sir Glen. We protect our companions and they in turn give us total trust. It is a hard decision to make. You cannot come here half hearted, and companions are not just sexual play things."

A gust of wind came up and caused Carol to shiver.

Julie was suddenly very aware of how unprotected Carol was. No sweater or wrap and no one of rank to protect her from unsavory eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, come on in, we can be in the..." Juliana trailed off in her mind trying to find a place that would be private and non-threatening to an honored guest such as Carol.

"We'll find a place." Juliana smiled and opened the door and together they walked down the hall.

A servant who whispered about some information to Juliana found them early the next morning in the library, wedged on some leather couches.

"Breakfast is being prepared, is there anything you would like?" Julie asked Carol.

"It's that early already? We've been up all night talking?"

"It appears so." It didn't bother Julie, but Carol was a little embarrassed.

Julie paused and took a look at Carol.

"Would you care for some rest?

"No, I just was comprehending what it meant to be up with someone all night, talking about everything on the planet."

Juliana smiled. The memory of Carol's embarrassment and how honest she had been. She had wanted to kiss her and hug her, but Juliana held back. There wasn't a need for that just yet. Juliana could bide her time. Even if Carol didn't know it yet, she was going to be in Juliana's bed.

And Juliana couldn't shake the memory of that night. It was the best memory she had of the two of them together and carefree. And it wasn't just that alone to Juliana. She knew that night she loved Carol. And whatever careful way she needed to woo Carol to her, Juliana was going to very slowly draw Carol in.

Juliana recognized this not as a challenge for her but as the fact that she really liked Carol and that Carol needed to be loved. Whether or not Juliana was the one who could ultimately give her that love, Juliana knew that only Carol could answer that question, but Juliana was willing to try.

Juliana had briefly considered the implications of dating Lady Sara's daughter. If there were any precedents that might help sway her opinion in either direction, Juliana knew none of them. She hoped for no questions. The servants may gossip, but they would not think to smear Juliana's good standing and certainly not under Lord Xavier's fearful hand.

It was good for both of them. Carol sough out Juliana at events, and as long as Juliana was free, she gave her time to ushering Carol around the events at the different estates. More importantly, Lady Sara said nothing.

Juliana had thought it was strange. Though Carol was allowed to have the freedom that Juliana herself had enjoyed, Carol was still treated as if she were a servant protected by her companion. Except in this case, her companion was her mother.

Part Four

The night that Julie crossed to hold Carol in her arms was only a few weeks after they first met.

The guests had been led down into the pleasure rooms of the Sir Marcos. Unlike the basements of most conclaves that were dungeons, these rooms were brightly lit and walls of sheer curtains separated the pillow-lined rooms for companions.

Lady Sara had already taken her companions to their space; the red curtain showing only shadowed silhouettes making reflections on the walls. Carol had not been given a companion. Juliana had supposed that Sir Marcos had hoped Carol would join her mother or even maybe himself. Juliana had done her job and gotten Lord Xavior happily set up with the best servants of Sir Marcos. He was happily sucking at their fingers and would be content for a long amorous night.

Carol tried not to stare at the shadows. She heard the giggles, the sighs and the cries of ecstasy. She swallowed uneasily, wishing she weren't alone.

"Are you all right?" Julie came up from behind; she was dressed in a loose fitting peasant dress this time. Not nearly as a grand entrance as they had met that first time.

"Oh, thank you for being here." Carol hugged Julie.

"Let's go upstairs. I have rooms here." She whispered. Julie had taken a deep breath seeing Carol stand in the middle of the hall in such a stunning thin-strapped gown.

Julie had never intended on anything illicit. It was simply to get Carol away and so she wouldn't be embarrassed so she could relax. But that dress drove Julie's mind to some exciting places.

The rooms were fairly simply Spartan. All the decorations were downstairs. There was a bed and a few wooden chairs by the fireplace.

"You've been everywhere." Carol said sinking into a chair.

Julie ran a hand through her hair and poured a cup of wine for herself.

"Well, that may be true," Julie smiled as she took a sip.

"It's just the sixth in six weeks. Does everyone always come together every week?" she asked.

Julie shook her head. "No. I think they're having a lot of these events because you're here. I know a few are to encourage you. Like this one. I'm sure Sir Marcos would not have minded having you in his curtained sanctuary. He might have even allowed you in there with no one else if you asked it."

Carol shuddered.

"I don't know how you did it at all Julie. I couldn't."

"Really? So scared?" Julie teased her friend.

Carol shrugged. "I just didn't think I'd want to be a part of this world and it seems like everyone keeps looking at me and seeing my mother and all that she seems to be famous for here."

Julie refrained from letting Carol know how much she did look like the Lady Sara and how that Lady Sara had recently offered Julie some private lessons in her own dungeon.

"It will pass. Your mother is happy here and she'll always be well taken care of. Lady Sara has several good friends here. You know most of them, they visited you when you were a child."

Carol nodded. "They'd come some times during the year. I was young then. They smiled and hugged me, but they would spend all their time talking to my mother. My mother was always happy when they were available to come to visit." She remembered fondly. "I never minded them. I never felt my mother was sad, but she was happier. I wanted her to be happier."

Julie smiled. "Not everyone is cut out for this life style at all. It is demanding, but that is why we come together so often. It's not just about having sex or wanting sex. It's about what the other wants from sex."

Carol had shrugged.

"Sex makes you uncomfortable." Julie said. "Well, what parts make you feel that way?"

"All of them." The whisper felt even too loud for Carol who wished she knew some other topic to discuss. She had been horribly embarrassed initially to learn that sex was pretty much the only topic here ever. Pleasure, happiness, elation, depression were all tied to sex. Carol had asked her mother if there were other topics that were of general interest.

"No my child there aren't many. But if you were to sit alone with a companion, I'm sure you'd find they themselves have a wide range of interests. Sir Glen enjoys poetry and Sir Marcus is always willing to share from his vast library of science information. There are other topics, but we only seem to have one single goal when we are together." Her mother told her over lunch one afternoon.

Julie had a pang of sympathy for Carol.

"How did you come to this conclusion?"

Carol shook her head. She was too embarrassed to tell Julie. But sex was such a part of the culture here.

"What were you like before you came here?" Carol asked hoping to change the subject.

Julie took a moment and another sip of the red fruity wine. "I think I was less focused. I wanted some deep commitment. Marriage wasn't enough. There were other emotions that I didn't understand when I was looking for sex. I always felt I was missing some part of life. I was introduced to just general 'kink', but when I learned about that, I still felt I wanted more. I went to parties on the 'outside', and then I heard whispers about this place. After a while, someone approached me and I made my own way to a transition zone. Being a servant or a slave was not something I aspired to, but I understood the importance of knowing even my own limits to be with someone else. When I was able to understand the things that I could not do or would not do, I was able to let someone else turn to me with their frailties. It's a powerful moment when you encompass the things you can and cannot accomplish."

"But not everything about being a companion is completely about sex. Am I right?"

Julie nodded and poured herself another half glass. "I trust that Lord Xavier is right now enjoying himself. He trusts that any task he left for my attention is done with the utmost perfection in mind. Hierarchy is only good if the absolute power does not corrupt the top. All of us are ultimately held accountable to the welfare of all the companions. There is a difference between protecting and leading. Leading is the goal."

"Will you eventually want your own conclave?" Carol asked noticing the glimmer of pride in Julie's eyes.

"When I am ready, I would love to have one."

Carol shivered. "I couldn't be the center of all sexual activities like you do."

"I can't believe that you would be so uncertain. Beautiful women like you Carol know all the intimacies of a kiss." Julie had not intended on saying it, but the night had been long and this hadn't been Julie's first cup of wine.

However, Julie didn't find any regret and she bent down to brush Carol's lips with her own.

Carol paused. The lingering touch of Julie's lips and the smell of wine that had clung to Julie's mouth wafted to her nose as if her lips had been burned by wine.

Julie took Carol's hand as she sat stunned and Julie pulled Carol to her as she walked to the bed, pulling her for a kiss.

"Your kisses are tender, like a virgin's." she whispered with a laugh.

Carol returned the kiss and tried not to let the fear come to the surface. The kiss this time was longer. Carol thought perhaps it was the fruity sweetness of the wine that heightened her curiosity. Gently, Julie cupped her face and deepened her kiss, and Carol, frightened pulled away.

Julie, looked up at Carol surprised and then turned away swearing softly. Julie almost left the bed. It was one thing to tempt a companion's slave or servant without permission. To be the one to draw a companion's daughter into sexual bedding for her first time was definitely to play with fire of an unusual magnitude.

Carol wanted to ask a question, wanted to know the words that were right to make this moment go away, anything to get another kiss from Julie. Her heart thundered in her ears and the loss of contact with Julie didn't make the emotional rush any easier. The closeness that she had felt with Julie had grown with the first kiss. Feeling her slip away severed the cords that were starting to bind them together.

After what felt like an eternity, Carol found her voice. She sat up and brushed her lips against Julie's ear. A whisper escaped, "Please I want it to be you."

Julie had tears in her eyes when she looked back at Carol anxiously looking back at her. She stole a kiss from Carol, drawing the tender returned kiss out, running her hands down Carol's body stopping at every curve: breasts, waist, hips, before coming back to cup her face.

This is a risk worth taking. Julie decided as Carol's hands timidly tried to mirror her own.

Julie brought Carol to her side of the bed. She broke their kiss to run a hand over Carol's shoulders and kissed her neck.

Hearing Carol's gasps encouraged Julie to be bolder. She drew the purple spaghetti strap off Carol's shoulder kissing the exposed skin, realizing the slack would allow her to gain access to Carol's breasts.

Again, Julie returned to Carol's lips and whispered words of encouragement.

"You're beautiful. I want to taste every inch of your sweet body." Another deep kiss, feeling Carol's hips draw closer to her own.

Very carefully, Julie exposed one breast with her hand, cupping it and then drawing it to her mouth. Her nipples were light pink and very sensitive to Julie's trained mouth, drawing the left nipple into a peak.

"So beautiful. So soft." Julie murmured. Her teeth grazed the sensitive bud drawing a soft whimper from Carol.

"I'm not hurting you am I?" Julie asked looking into Carol's eyes for the truth.

"No." came the breathy reply.

Julie continued to set the pace undressing more and more of Carol's body and rewarding her with kisses for every bit of skin that became exposed. Carol found herself pressing her breasts to Julie's mouth.

Down to nothing but the pair of black lacy panties, Carol grew bold. She broke their kiss. "Let me see you." She asked Julie.

Happily Julie complied, pulling off her top, revealing that she had not worn a bra tonight. Eager to repay the favor, Carol tentatively kissed Julie's right breast, working her way down before brushing her lips against the brown nipple that was waiting for her lips.

Julie let Carol explore while she dipped her hands between Carol's legs, lightly brushing her inner thigh, causing her to stop ministering her breasts and gasp.

"You're beautiful. Long beautiful legs that are so soft. Sweet, sensitive breasts." Julie said, burying her face in Carol's neck

Another kiss and Julie's fingers slid beneath the waistband of Carol's panties and began to nudge them off. Happy to let her, Carol's hips rose.

Once the panties were discarded, Julie sat back on her heels looking at Carol's naked body lying against the rumpled forest green bedclothes.

Suddenly self conscious as Julie drank in her naked form, Carol's right hand snuck to cover her mound.

"No, please, I want to see you. Don't cover yourself. You're too beautiful for that."

Hesitantly, Carol replied. "Thank you."

Julie kissed Carol's mound briefly looking up to see Carol's reaction. Her tongue dipped into the delicate folds between her legs. As Julie kissed her way back to Carol's trembling lips, Julie's fingers gently probed the wetness that was slowly sliding out of her pussy.

Carol gasped. The touch alone was sudden and forbidden. She had only heard about oral sex, never once imagined she'd be a recipient of such strange touches. And staring in Julie's eyes as she dared to tease her uninitiated body was too much at this very moment. But Carol couldn't take her eyes from Julie. And then Julie's fingers didn't just enter her they stroked the walls of her vagina slowly.

Julie's finger entered Carol's vagina rubbing slowly as she deepened her kisses feeling the little gasps from Carol.

Julie's persistent touch was causing Carol to shudder. Her body physically responded to Julie's touch in ways she was unprepared to understand. She broke her kiss with Julie and had her throat assaulted with soft kisses while the finger continued to wiggle its way inside of her. Carol's hips ground against Julie's hand with little encouragement.

"That's all right Carol, just do what you feel like. It's all right Beautiful." Julie whispered, her own body pressing against Carol's holding her against the bed and body hoping to get more than both of them had anticipated.

Carol's young body could not longer stand the assault of all sensation and she began to cry out. Julie held her against the bed, not wanting her to pull away as she teased her body, knowing that the loss of connection could leave Carol feeling empty.

Finally, exhausted, Carol lay limp in the bed panting.

Julie kissed her forehead.

"It's all right Beautiful." She murmured drawing her close.

Carol lay in a stupor, her chest heaving, head curled under Julie's chin. And then the tears came. Julie said nothing but held Carol and let her tears fall on her skin.

"Sleep Beautiful. It's all right, I'll be right here." Julie promised and drew the blanket around them.

However, in the morning: Julie was gone. It wasn't even just gone because she needed to serve Lord Xavier. Julie was gone and no one knew where she had gone. When Carol had asked her mother, Lady Sara herself said she was worried, but it was not unusual for someone of Miss Julie's status to disappear on special projects suddenly.

Carol was too embarrassed to ask what a 'special project' might be.

And now, Julie, Lady Juliana was going to have breakfast with her, fifteen years later.

"Coffee, juice?" Juliana offered jarring Carol's memory. Beautiful. You still are very beautiful.

"Juice please." Carol blinked and remembered that the world that Julie had live dictated how she conduct herself now that she clearly was a leader of a conclave, this conclave.

"I trust you slept well." Orange juice poured from a crystal decanter into an eight-ounce cup.

You mean last night or the last fifteen years? "Fine, thank you." Carol took the white linen napkin from under the fork and knife and placed it on her lap.

"I had Mr. Jacob bring the carriage around. You can leave when you're ready."

So eager to get rid of me? Carol felt stab of pain in her heart.

To have her first lover, her only lover sitting across from her speaking so matter of factly, with no indication that there was anything unsettled in their past.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Nothing more than general pleasantries: thank you, please, and oh, no, thank you.

And then she was packed and sent away in a carriage off for miles. As if that night had never happened.

Carol cried the entire trip.

Juliana had never been strongly swayed ever to enjoy the company of women. Certainly she had trained a few female servants, but that was far from being physically attracted to a woman.

One woman: Carol.

No other woman or man had brought her any satisfaction in all the years they had been apart. Perhaps because she had taken an unusual amount of time in her love making, perhaps it was because Carol had trusted her instantly to be her first lover. Juliana never placed the exact reason.

And having her across the table now was too much for her. Juliana's heart was leaping out of her chest demanding to apologize to the woman who had been broken so many years ago.

Questions bubbled up that she was too embarrassed to ask. Did you get married? Did you find a male lover ever? Do you have children?

Time had gifted Carol gently. Only faint lines of laughter hung around her mouth. She still looked as if she had the same tender breasts as she had those years ago. Juliana set her mouth on edge; this was definitely a topic that could not be broached. Not now. Perhaps not ever.

Juliana had steeled herself for Carol's visit. It would only be a few short hours. Most of which that Juliana would be in a whole other wing while Carol bathed and slept in a bedroom that would look nothing like the room where they first made love.




This Time...



Juliana was always puzzled emotionally that while she had almost no reciprocation that night from Carol, that she had felt so emotionally attached to that moment in her life.

She could still recall the faint smell of raspberry body spray.

Juliana's mind wandered; Does she still wear that scent?

Juliana suppressed a curious shudder.

Sitting across from Carol was a type of torture that Juliana her extensive knowledge of sexual torture that Juliana had completely underestimated. To have a sexual desire that could never be fulfilled and would have to remain unanswered.

Juliana lingered over the breakfast table. She wanted to curl in the chair that held Carol's warmth and feel it over her body. There wasn't a question that Juliana could have formed that didn't feel like she had swallowed sandpaper.

"Is there anything else you need Lady Juliana?" asked a servant very quietly.

"Leave. I want to be alone."

"As you wish." And the servant disappeared.

Juliana headed upstairs to where Carol has slept. There was a servant putting the towels in the laundry.

"Get out." The servant scurried away with the laundry basket. Juliana snagged the wicker basket lined with linen.

"Leave it."

And the servant let go. Who was he to comment on the conclave's fetishes? And he continued out to the servant's level.

Juliana sunk onto the unmade bed and clutched a damp towel in her hands. The towel that had been warmed by Carol's curves, and the sheets lingered of a scent of lavender were barely still warm by her body.

The tears were slow, long sobs.

Mr. Jacob came up and closed the door leaving Lady Juliana alone.

Part Five 

Carol climbed into the carriage, being helped in by Mr. Jacob. And then it was silent again until Carol arrived in front of Sir Glen's Conclave.

Sir Glen greeted her as the carriage pulled up.

"I trust your journey was well." He smiled all too aware of Carol's bright smile and her red eyelids.

"Yes." Carol's heart began to thunder, unsure of what she would see. Once again, she was ushered back into the opulence of this world that they created for themselves. Sir Glen was well dressed, and relaxed in silks and leather.

Sir Glen took Carol's arm. At the top of the stairs in a black dress covered with a navy blue lace, stood a woman who waited patiently for Sir Glen.

As they climbed the stairs to the main entrance, Carol noticed about her neck was a pendant that matched the head of Sir Glen's cane. "Carol, this is my Laurie. Any questions you might have, you feel free to ask her. She has been helping with your mother's care."

"Thank you so very much Laurie." Carol offered her hand to shake and then remembered it would be impolite. How Laurie was introduced indicated that there was ownership of a greater cause. Carol could ask nothing of Laurie without Sir Glen's permission.

'It is strange after all this time, I remember these rules as if I were bound by them myself.' She wondered to herself.

"It has been my pleasure Miss Carol."

Carol looked about the grand entry with marble columns.

"We do have plenty of rooms upstairs, but your mother seems more comfortable in the solarium. She likes the to see the outside, and there is a terrace off the back that we move her to when she wants." Laurie followed Sir Glen and Carol as they walked down the main hallway to the solarium at the back of the hall.

"Do you want me to join you or would you like some time to yourself?" Sir Glen asked right before the wood door.

Carol looked at the door and hesitated. Fifteen years was about to come colliding back very quickly. Just like this very morning.

"I would like a few moments please." Sir Glen nodded and opened the door.

"As long as you like Carol. If you and your mother need anything, there is a bell. Laurie will be there." And with that, Sir Glen and Laurie walked away.

Carol looked at the door again and then pushed it open. Lying on a pink chaise lounge was her mother. Or what was left of her mother.

"Momma." Carol's voice cracked and crossed the rich carpeted floor.

The woman looked over. Her remaining locks of hair were brushed back and it was whiter than Carol remembered.

"Carol?" Her mother tried to sit up.

Carol hurried to her mother and hugged her tightly.

"Oh my sweet baby, what are you doing here?" she asked hugging her daughter tightly.

Carol cringed under the pressure of her mother's stick like arms. She wondered privately if her mother was like this underneath the lush blankets that cocooned her small body.

"Sir Glen came and visited me a few days ago." She said softly. "I couldn't say no to seeing you."

"He must have worried you something horribly!" Lady Sara said softly not wanting to let go of her daughter.

"I could have come to visit if I asked, I know that. I never took advantage of it. I'm glad he came to get me."

Lady Sara kissed her daughter's head.

"Let me look at you."

Carol stepped back and took the moment to look over her mother. She was frail. Carol never imagined that the current vision of a woman that Lady Sara or even just as her mother would be.

After a million heartbeats, Lady Sara smiled and reached for her daughter's hand. "You look lovely."

"Thank you."

"How long are you staying?"

"As long as you need me."

Carol looked at her mother as she bit her lip nervously.

"How much did Sir Glen tell you?"

"Nothing Momma, he waited for me to ask you. And I am ashamed to say I do not know what to ask."

"It's just as well. I am dying my dear. And there is nothing I can do about it. We all must pass through to another world no matter where your heart lies."

Tears welled in Carol's eyes. "I feel like I've missed out on seeing you and I know I can't make it up now."

"No tears right now." Her mother reached out and plucked a tear from her face. "You were out living your life. And that's what every mother wants for their child."

"Can I spend the next few days with you Momma?"

"I wouldn't want anything else." Sara kissed her daughter's forehead with her paper-thin lips.

Carol stayed with her and chatted endlessly about "the other world" until her mother sighed wistfully.

"It's okay Momma." Carol whispered softly.

"Just a nap until supper time." Her mother's eyes closed and she had a smile on her face.

Silently, Laurie came up behind Carol.

"Sir Glen has lunch waiting for you in the dining hall, if you want to eat."

Carol had lost all sense of time. Her stomach reminded her that she had eaten almost nothing with Juliana at the breakfast table a few hours ago.

"Thank you. I would love to. If she wakes, please let her know where I've gone."

Another servant came from the shadows to sit with Carol's mother.

Down another series of halls Sir Glen was standing at a bay of windows and there were a few platters of food on the table.

"Ah, Carol." He held the high back wooden chair for her to sit near the head of the table.

Carol sat and watched as Laurie sat next to Sir Glen.

"Please, help yourself." Offered Laurie as she took a napkin and then first served Sir Glen then herself.

"Did you have a pleasant chat with your mother?" asked Sir Glen.

"Yes, thank you for arranging for me to come here."

Part Six

"Laurie, I have a small confession to make." Sir Glen said when they were alone in his office. He walked straight to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a scotch into a crystal tumbler without any ice.

"What is it my love?" she asked softly.

"We never knew who Carol's father was, but I took the role. And like any father, I wanted to keep her safe. When Carol last was here, I found her in the bed of, at the time, she went by Miss Julie."

"Lady Juliana?"

"Yes. And I pulled Miss Julie out of bed and threatened her back right into the lower levels of Lord Xavier's conclave. I believed, and I still do believe, she seduced Carol into her bed."

"But she offered to put her up in the transition zone."

"And I allowed it. But it is painfully clear I may have done Carol a horrible disservice by not being allowed to wake with her first lover."

"You know it was her first?"

"Leave a father figure his pride?" he said sinking into a black leather chair.

"Does Carol know you took that role for her?" In the question hung other conversations but from Laurie, they disappeared. Sir Glen was indebted for his Laurie's skills and her avoiding the more difficult judgment that would be eventually from Carol that

"No, unless Lady Sara tells her." Laurie took the chance to climb up onto his lap and kissed his chin.

"You did what you thought was right at that time. She'll probably be angry, but not as upset over the lost opportunity you put between them. However it was meant to play out love, that will be something they will have to settle between themselves."

"I love your wisdom Laurie." He whispered.

Lady Sara awoke, and saw a silhouette sitting by the bed. And then very shortly it was gone.

Seeing Carol again strengthened her. She wondered why she hadn't allowed Sir Glen to go see her daughter before this.

And then she remembered the gift she had given her daughter when she had left. She wondered if her daughter still had the cloak. It was silly to give it to her.

Miss Julie had come up from the shadows that day while Sara had been strolling in the garden, trying to console some of her loss that her daughter was really going to spend this last day packing to return to the other world.

Lady Sara herself hadn't quite been sure of her motives of bringing Carol here to her conclave after all these years. Carol had been free to go at any time, and especially now, but she knew her daughter had not been comfortable here. While Sara had reveled in the change of her life and had been very happy to return to the world she had left to raise her daughter, Carol seemed like the puzzle piece that had not fit very well at all.

But with every invitation that came and was extended to Carol, Carol said she would attend. So Lady Sara had been happy when Carol and Miss Julie had developed a friendship. Maybe once or twice in their early days did Sara wonder if Julie and Carol had crossed into something more than good friends, but never did she feel that Julie would have asked those things from her daughter. And even if Sara had known, she might not have cared any more than if Carol had. Carol was not privileged to comment on Sara's sexual encounters; the respect went in the other direction as well.

But there stood Julie clutching a brown paper package tied with a simple yellow ribbon.

"I heard that your daughter is returning to the rest of the world. I was wondering if you would give her this for me."

Sara paused wondering why Julie herself had not wanted to approach her daughter.

"She'll leave early tomorrow. I can make sure she has it."

"Thank you." And then as silently as Julie had appeared, she was gone again. Sara wondered and looked down at the package she held. She did not want to violate her daughter's privacy but she couldn't help but wonder what was inside. And then the nature that Sara was the messenger made her wonder even more of what transpired between the younger women when she was in other parts of other conclaves.

But she gave her daughter the gift at their private dinner that night in her offices over looking the moonlit garden.

Carol had looked at the simple package and the yellow ribbon. She pulled the simple bow and pulled back the paper.

"It's a cloak?" she asked.

Sara raised an eyebrow and said nothing. "Just to remember your time here. I know there will be some that will scoff at you wearing a symbol of the raised companions, but I think that you wearing this will remind you of your mother's place and then tell others that you are to always be honored, no matter your status."

Carol's hand rested on the soft black leather.

"How do you ever tell them apart?" she asked. "Everyone has one."

"We have our ways. Only our companions truly know how to find ours. That is something we pride ourselves on."

"Is this one like one of yours?" Carol had asked.

"Yes." Sara had said quickly without examining the cloak. If Julie had one made for Carol it was one thing. But if Julie had one made with her own marks, it would result in punishment for someone who was so very promising and talented as Julie. But it meant another thing to Sara and she wasn't above using that leverage when the time was right.

Part Seven 

Lady Juliana wanted to hurt someone. But things were just out of her control. She wanted Carol. It just mattered if Carol wanted her.

Juliana reached for her robes. The last symbol that that completed her station.

The cane was the easiest to earn. It was the crutch that would hold her up when she found the burden of her station too hard.

The signet ring on her left hand contained her initials. This gave her authority to mark anything as hers.

But the robes were the symbol of the weight of responsibility that was given to her with each person who swore their honor and total trust to her. It was not only for their life but also for their welfare. The chain was a symbol of the never-ending commitment for all the burdens that the risen companions carried.

For women, the robes, like Juliana's, were styled as a cloak. Each would have their own specific style. Lady Daire's had been the most famous: a red velvet lined cloak for the most formal of occasions that would just kiss the ground as she walked across in amazingly beautiful high heels. Lady Daire was a classic woman and she left large shoes for all the other women who were her peers.

"Are you ready Julie?" asked Lord Xzavior. He was formally dressed as he was about to present someone for their robes, he looked upon Julie briefly. He had seen her naked, dressed, and at her most vulnerable. But today, she looked nervous.

She shook her head. "I'm worried that I cannot bring myself to find someone to be my second."

"Sir Glen did not find his Laurie until six years ago. His second is the rouge Sir Leif, who wasn't appointed until several months after he had joined Laurie. And Sir Glen has had his holdings and robes longer than I have been Lord here."

"It's been a while. I just don't think I can find my satisfaction with anyone."

"As long as your heart is open, and you follow good training practices, there is no reason why you should not have your robes Julie."

"There is one other thing Lord Xavier, I am unsure about leaving 'Julie' behind."

"It is a big step. Formality, and full name are a burden of the risen."

"Some are completely happy to remain where I am. I understand the limits and I never came here with the intention of rising this far. But the opportunity arose and now I am here and there is no reason why I shouldn't take robes that are offered to me."

"And you know the oath well. Rising just means that. Symbolically and emotionally. You've always been higher than others, looking out for companions when it wasn't your job to. You see things and details that others often miss. That is a quality that cannot be overlooked. Julie you can certainly be a great companion, but I would not have submitted your name if I did not think you could be even greater once you take your robes and companions to follow you."

Julie leaned in and hugged Lord Xavier.

"There's my girl. Not much time left now, you have earned this."

Julie's first robes were all black leather with a white bead around the very edge of the robes. A trademark that was easily overlooked. Now she preferred black velvet for most occasions. They were easier to take care of and did the job even in the warmest events in the darkest recess of even Sir Glen's dungeons.

And then tonight, she paused looking at the leather robes nostalgically. She turned and pulled it out and went to a rope she had by her bed. In a few moments, a servant appeared.

"Yes my lady?" she asked.

"I would like this cape prepared for tomorrow."

"Yes my lady." The servant took it from Juliana's arms; hiding all the questions she wished to ask but would wait to hear reasons another time.

And with that, she headed downstairs where her carriage awaited her to head on the journey for tonight's event.

Lord Xzavior had finally agreed only five years ago that she had earned her own conclave. She had not lingered long as a companion. Lord Xzavior and Sir Glen had seen her leadership and her thirst for more than any other companion.

She had watched so many joinings, so many induction ceremonies, she wondered if she would ever be gifted with her own ceremonies.

She did take comfort in the fact that Sir Glen and his Laurie had only been joined for the past four years. He had led the conclave for nearly twenty years. A man with his credentials should have been completely

Would Carol be submissive too me? Would I be willing to submit to Carol? Would Carol be asked through the Induction ceremony? Would she be mine to join in the end?

The questions plagued Juliana, as she continued to prepare and then walk down the hall.

Juliana would do just about anything to talk to Carol and know that she wasn't going to leave again.

Juliana looked as she pulled her robes about her shoulders and fastened the chain that settled the article against her body.

Would I be willing to leave for her? Juliana looked back in the mirror.

Her heart stopped, but the answer was clear. Anything, anything for Carol to be with her again. Juliana would give up everything to live with her for whatever their happily ever after would be.

Part Eight 

Sir Glen stared at the garden, as the rain trickled down. And Carol stood beside him, looking out, wishing to be anywhere than here.

"I have a confession Carol. And when I am done you may not like to hear what I tampered with when you were young."

Carol paused unsure of where this was going. As far as she remembered, Glen had been a very nice man who had visited when she was a child. And when her mother returned, it was Glen who had welcomed her back with open arms. It was Glen who offered to house them until her mother could settle and return to the lifestyle that they valued.

"If you have any misgivings over Lady Juliana, I want you to know it was I who found you and she in bed together. I took it upon myself to discipline her without asking her how you came to be in her bed. What happened between you two, is something that is completely between the two of you and I had no place in determining what was to happen between two beautiful, consenting, women."

"She was gone that morning because you had told her to leave? Were you watching us?"

"No, I assure you I had been fully ensconced in my own little evening, but when I came down the halls to check on my guests' welfare that evening, I found you and she sleeping together. She went without a complaint. Not to make things worse I imagine, but the reasons for her lack of protest you will have to clarify that with her. I want you to know though that because she did not have her robes yet that she was under obligation to follow my orders, no matter what. And she did that admirably. My only regret is that it seemed to reflect poorly in your eyes. And for that: I am truly sorry."

Carol turned away, tears forming in her eyes thinking about what might have been denied briefly. She sniffled once and then blinked away some tears.

"I had come to terms a few years ago that the memory of that night would just be a memory. And whatever had transpired was what was going to happen. I couldn't bring that night up again with anyone, not even Lady Juliana. I should forgive you, you never meant to hurt anyone and you didn't even know what had happened."




This Time, Forever



"I thought you were never going to wake up." He held out a small hand towel and I took it gratefully, drying off my face before speaking.

"If I had known I had an audience I would have woken up a whole lot sooner. How long have you been sitting there?" 

"Long enough for my cock to remember you with great fondness, and long enough for me to realise just how much I still want you." It was a great boost to my ego to know that I still had some sort of affect on him.

"I don't think it says anything in the rule book about not taking advantage when the opportunity presents itself does it?" I could have spent all morning pretending not to want him, but a year was a long time.

"Are you presenting yourself then?" He said softly, moving over to sit on the edge of the bath.

"I will be as soon as I get myself out of this bath, my skin has gone wrinkly." I sat up quickly and the deep water sloshed, wetting his jeans.

"Well, it looks as though I'm going to have to strip off anyway, you've soaked me." He laughed and unbuckled his belt and for the first time I stared pointedly at the bulge straining against his zipper, wetting my lips as memories came flooding back.

"Don't let me stop you, it's a long time since anyone stripped for me." I bit down gently on my bottom lip as he stood up, easing the zipper slowly down, his breath releasing slowly as his cock was given some space.

"I'm not much of a performer Maggie, but for you anything." He said, letting the breathe hiss out between his teeth, at the same time giving a sexy little wiggle as the zipper slid all the way down.

"You're doing just fine hun." I felt a familiar tingle between my legs and felt bold enough to touch myself, we had never been shy in front of each other; nothing had changed.

"You are too." His eyes narrowed as he clocked exactly what I was doing.

As he pushed his jeans and boxers down I propped my heels on the edge of the bath and pushed my hips slightly out of the water, rubbing my clit slowly as he turned round, showing me just how hard he was. Quickly his jeans and socks were kicked out of the way, then his t-shirt was dragged over his head; he was naked and ready and I was working myself higher and higher, without one touch of his hand, but it was all for him. I stretched out my free hand and he came closer, sighing as my fingertips brushed against the base of his cock, moving forward until I was able to close my fist around his thick shaft, pumping it slowly. It felt good to be touching him again, I didn't want to see further than what we were doing at that moment. Suddenly these small touches weren't enough for him and I felt my hand being lifted from between my legs, replaced by his own as he surged forward, rubbing the head of his cock against my lips, urging me to take him in, telling me how many nights he had dreamt of how good it felt to have my lips tight around him, to feel the way my tongue circled and stroked against the sensitive crown.

I opened my mouth willingly and moaned softly as he slid inside, already slippery with pre-cum, his musky man-scent filling my nose as I took him deeper. My hand cradled his balls, rubbing at them gently as I began to suck and as I worked him, he worked me; his fingers plunging and probing, using the heel of his hand on my clit. I was pushing my hips higher, needing the deeper contact; I felt him everywhere, my pussy my ass, I was tasting him on my tongue, his whispers in my head, I was giving him everything and he was taking. I knew he was close, I could feel the deep pulse start, his cock growing harder than ever, but he drew back so that only the head remained inside my mouth, and it was on that that I concentrated, closing my eyes as I laved and sucked, mouth opening wide in shock as I felt my orgasm blind-side me, making me buck my hips against his hand again and again as his cum spurted into my mouth; I drank from him, swallowing slowly, gratefully. I was still shaking as his hand drew away and he stooped down, hooking his hands under my arms to lift me up and out of the bath; nothing was said, there was no need for words, our need was of a very different nature.

Without bothering to dry myself we practically ran through to my bedroom, drawing the curtains quickly before landing down on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. That was when we shared what felt like our first kiss, pent up passion and aggression at a yearlong denial purged in that one moment. Our hands roamed while our tongues danced, it was a hungered re-acquaintance and our appetites were far from being sated. I pushed at him with my hands, urging him down, I needed to feel his mouth sucking on my nipples, I wanted his hands cupping and squeezing my breasts, I wanted that feeling of anticipation when he would move lower, teasing me gently as he used to.

"Will you let me love you again Maggie?" He whispered, as our kiss was broken.

"Yes." I said without hesitating as he cradled my face in his hands and all I felt in that moment was love; he was right there, where I had always wanted him to be, even if I had had a hard time admitting it.

Softly he kissed both of my eyes shut and slid down my body, spending only the briefest of moments on my breasts before moving further, dipping his tongue into my navel, swirling it over and over.

"You're nothing but a tease Daniel!"

"You love it." 

There was no denying it, I did, it was the thrill of anticipation, the spark of jolting electricity as his tongue flickered against the slippery folds of my pussy; delicate touches that made me cry out for more. As his mouth settled on my clit I let my heels rest on his shoulders, letting my knees relax, spreading myself wide. His fingers explored slowly, coating themselves in my slippery wetness, and as he caught my clit gently between his teeth I felt his fingers probing my tightest hole, showing me that his memory of what I enjoyed the most was still clear. My breath was coming hard and fast as his finger slid a little way inside, his tongue flicking back and forth on my clit, it was my undoing and as my first keening cries filled the air I arched my back off the bed, pushing myself high against his mouth and further onto his finger.

Ever so slowly I felt myself being lowered down, and I let my heels slip from his shoulders as he lifted his head, giving me a wide smile, his face shiny with my juices.

"Damn lucky you gave me a blow job in the bathroom otherwise I would have cum all over your sheets when you did; I don't think you have no idea how sexy you sound when you're crying out like that." The old familiar heat was there in his eyes as he moved forward, kissing his way back up over my stomach.

"Shit Dan, you're hard again already; let's not waste it." My hands cradled his head as he started to suck on one nipple, biting down gently with his teeth and pinching the neglected nipple between thumb and forefinger.

As he settled himself between my legs, I could feel the heat of his erection pressing against my pussy, just rubbing slowly over and over, until I found myself wiggling my hips, trying to position myself at the head of his cock, urging him to take me, no words spoken. Only when he moved up to capture my mouth briefly with his did he start to slide inside my pussy, breaking the kiss so that we could watch each other as he thrust the final few inches hard into me. I felt a moment of flickering pain as I adjusted to him; it had been so long since I had last felt so complete. Slowly we began to move against each other, long slow testing strokes that had me begging for more, I was ready to be fucked, to be loved, only in the way that he could.

With one hand braced beside my head, he slid the other underneath me, raising me up quickly to meet his downward thrusts, his fingers biting into my flesh as he increased his speed, pounding his cock into me, stretching me further than before, deeper than ever. Words wouldn't come, they were lost in my cries and moans and as I watched Daniel close his eyes, his face a mask of pain, I knew he was on the edge and I was right there with him. I brought his head down to mine as I felt the heat of his cum bathe me, breathing fast, mouths hot on each other, strokes slowing but no withdrawal. He was home.

--

"Show us yer knickers!" 

"She's not wearing any Dickens hush up." Dan laughed, the same way he always did when the bird made his request.

"I'm not sure I want him to know that, chances are he'll remember that and repeat it at a later date when we have company round." I was laughing too.

"Well are we all set then? I'm really looking forward to seeing the photos." I watched as Daniel draped a sheet over Dickens' cage, who gave an indignant squawk at being given such an early bedtime.

"Ready as I ever will be." Stopping only long enough to share a brief kiss we headed out, walking in the direction of the nearest tube station, we were planning on having a drink somewhere along the way, driving wouldn't have been the wisest idea.

It had been nearly a month since Spencer Tunick had brought naturism to Greenwich, nearly a month that Daniel and I had been back together. There were no voiced doubts or rehashing of old problems, he had changed in that year, grown up, living on his own, he had had to; as for me, I had changed too, the realisation had come quickly that there would be no one else for me but him. 

Nearly an hour later we arrived in west Chelsea, home of the Saatchi Gallery, moments away from seeing the National Nude Day exhibition. We were half way up the main steps when the doors to the gallery were flung open wide, and crowds of naked men and women streamed down the steps towards us. I felt like a fish, my mouth opening and closing, unable to speak; I turned to Daniel, who was having an equally hard time dealing with what he was seeing.

"Darling, I think we're a little over-dressed for this don't you?" Daniel caught my hand tightly in his as he whispered in my ear, I was still in shock.

"There is nothing that would persuade me to give up my clothes at this point, I did my bit for naturism back on Greenwich Docks, don't you remember?" I could feel the heat start to rise in my cheeks as the men and women started to arrange themselves around our feet, muttering curses and bemoaning the coldness of the concrete.

"How could I forget, I should send my personal thanks to Spencer Tunick for being the tool that got us back together."

"Maggie?" 

"Oh! I'd know that voice anywhere. Daniel, I think you might just have been presented with an opportunity to convey your thanks in person, this is Spencer Tunick." My stomach somersaulted as I turned my head to the side, catching Spencer's eye as he looked between the two of us.

"Thank me for what though? I'm curious, but you had better make it quick, I have to take some photos before the exhibition starts and everyone freezes to the steps." It hadn't escaped my attention that he had a rather large and expensive camera hanging from a strap around his neck.

"Long story better kept for some other time, but my thanks to you regardless." Slight panic was starting to cloud Daniel's eyes as we became the object of several speculative glances.

"Stripping? It is National Nude Day after all." Spencer queried before dodging his way down the steps to where a ladder had been set up for him.

"Well, what about it Maggie, shall we join the throng?" Without waiting for me to answer, I watched as he slipped his coat off and pulled at his silk tie, loosening it quickly.

"I wouldn't want to be the odd one out; I'm feeling conspicuous enough as it is." I waved goodbye to my old inhibitions and pulled my clothes off quickly, surprised momentarily by a small round of applause that we got when we were both finally naked.

I watched as he dropped to his knees, using his clothes as a makeshift mattress before lying down completely, holding his hand out towards me.

"Lay down with me?"

I didn't hesitate; we were part of the sea.



This Time Her Daughter



BACKGROUND

The prelude to this story is Seduction of a Wealthy Snob. 

For those of you who don't have time to read that,this provides the background.

Frances Barrington had been a beautiful snob married to a wealthy businessman in a loveless and almost sexless marriage. Her main satisfaction in life had been to flaunt her husband's wealth and influence and to build her own ego by putting other people down. But in her heart she knew her life was unrewarding.

This had changed when Frances and her 18 year old daughter Kathy had enroled in an art class run by Jack Webster a talented post graduate art student. Initially Frances had been true to form, trying to intimidate and humiliate Jack with her perceived importance.

However over a month she changed. She changed because she recognised Jack's talents as an artist and teacher. She changed because she started to laugh at his jokes. She changed because she became jealous of the way Jack was flirting with her 'friend' Mona Jackson. She changed because for the first time in almost 15 years she had felt an irresistable sexual desire.

By the time Frances and Jack met in "The Dog's Bollocks" a student pub Jack realized that Frances was his to do with as he wished. He liked her, and she certainly attracted him physically, but he wanted to get rid of that snobbish superiority.

This story starts two months later, well after Frances had willingly and enthusiastically accepted that Jack had her totally under his control. (Again, if you feel like it, you can read it all in Seduction of a Wealthy Snob, Chap 1) 

THIS STORY STARTS

TWO MONTHS LATER

"You realize my daughter is madly in love with you?" said Frances. "It's getting boring listening to her. 

"'Isn't Jack handsome', 'Doesn't Jack know so much about art', 'Isn't Jack such a good painter'."

Frances was reclining on Jack's sofa where she had been for almost all of the last three hours. She was leaning against an arm, totally naked, her legs spread wide with her shaved genitals openly exposed

In her 39 years Frances had never contemplated being so uninhibited, so confident and proud of her sexuality and femininity.

But now here, with Jack, 16 years her junior, who totally dominated her sexually, she wanted for nothing else than to luxuriate in his worshiping gaze. He made her feel like some primitive sex Goddess. 

This had been one of Jack's "Worship the body of Frances" evenings. It was justified. Although she was 39 Frances had a body many a 16 year old would envy. Jack marveled in every inch of her. The evening had started with him massaging her all over her body. She had reveled under his delicate touch, her muscles were singing.

She had discovered that almost all of her body, from her forehead to her toes, was an erogenous zone. The massage had brought her to the peak of sexual desire.

Jack had never left her body alone for those three hours. Sometimes he had brought her to orgasm with his fingers titillating her clitoris or G spot, sometimes with his lips and tongue and gentle nibbles.

He had probed her anus with his tongue. God, two months ago she couldn't even think about anal sex without a shudder of disgust. Now her anus was still twitching with delight from his last rampant entry.

"Yes," said Jack, her art tutor turned sex tutor, as he massaged the soles of her feet.

"Kathy is so, so beautiful, just like her mother and such a vibrant, lovely, talented girl. I would dearly love to bed her.

"But two problems. She is an 18 year old virgin and I don't want to her mother to be jealous."

"Jack, would you like to kiss my breasts as I talk?" He did not need a second invitation, as he lay on his back, his head on Frances' lap and sucking her brown aureole with its hardened nipple.

"First me. It would be my fondest dream come true for you to have both of us. But, that's your choice. If you leave me for my daughter, I will be absolutely devastated, but I would be happy for her."

Leaving Frances was not part of Jack's game-plan, but he saw no reason to give her that reassurance. Instead he nibbled her left nipple, enjoying her squirm of pleasure.

"Any decision about her body is up to Kathy. Because I had been a virgin until I married, I always tried to persuade her to be the same. Now I know that was the biggest mistake of my life. You showed me that, my gorgeous Master." She stroked his hair.

"Since you have transformed me into what I used to describe as a sex maniac," she fondled his penis and tickled his testicles, "I have said to her that it's her choice.

"I have seen her with boys and I doubt she will wait much longer. But I don't want her first to be when she is so pissed she doesn't know what she is doing or who she is doing it with. 

I would prefer it if it wasn't with some pimply kid who knows nothing about sex, or with some lout who has no concern for her needs and emotions.

"I know you don't like to talk about this, but you are such a giving, generous lover as well as so very, very exciting. I know you get as much delight from my orgasms as your own. Who better for my daughter's first time?

"And one other thing, when our gynecologist examined Kathy a couple of years ago, she removed her hymen to help with her periods. 

Jack said nothing and enjoyed the delights of Frances' magnificent mammaries.

"But Master, please," she hesitated as she knew she was treading into dangerous territory. "You won't put her through that Dog's Bollocks will you?"

Jack sat up.

"How much have you told Kathy about us?"

"Absolutely nothing, but two weeks ago she told me she knew we were bonking. I denied it outright but she said she could tell from the way we talked and looked at each other."

"So she knows nothing about the discipline and nothing really about our sex?"

"Not a thing."

"Thanks Frances." He paused for some time thinking. Then he reached his decision and put an end to Frances' nervous wait.

"Next Thursday at 7pm at The Dog's Bollocks." Frances looked in anguish, but said nothing.

"Kathy is to wear that satiny green blouse with buttons all down the front. And that light green mini-skirt, you know, the one that isn't too tight.

"And you Frances, your yellow blouse and the skirt you wore here tonight."

Jack knelt down behind her. One hand gently stroked her buttock, the other reached to fondle a nipple. He parted her legs. Frances pushed her bum higher to help the entry of his cock into her sodden vagina. 

She loved this position and groaned in excited anticipation. His cock always went in so deeply and her G spot was always massaged to uncontrollable excitement. She grunted as his cock banged into her cervix, sending a shudder through her body.

Jack grasped her hips with his hands, his loins thrusting hard, flattening her buttocks.

"Oh Master, fuck me, abuse my cunt," Frances hissed as the exquisite pleasure from her G spot made her ignore the pain from her buttock.

As Jack had already ejaculated twice that evening his arousal to orgasm took longer. He varied his rhythm, varied his angle, varied the strength and depths of his thrusts. Each variation seemed more arousing to Frances than the previous.

Her cheek was pressed on the floor. She tried to grit her teeth to hold back her shrieks, but failed.

"Ooooooooohhhhh your fucking cock. Oooooooooooooh my fucking cunt Oooooooooooh fuuuuuuuuuck."

When her orgasm juddered through her she would have collapsed to the floor had Jack not been holding her hips. 

But as Francis drove home a sinking feeling came to her stomach. Was she taking a terrible risk with her daughter?



TUESDAY AT 7PM

The three of them chatted away together as they waited for an alcove to become free at The Dog's Bollocks, a rowdy student pub. For the first time Frances was glad to see her daughter drink a glass of wine quickly. 

Kathy was dressed as requested looking absolutely gorgeous, her eyes bright with excitement. Looking at her Jack felt that the last of her teenage naivety was just about behind her and her development into an elegant women was well advanced. 

Jack could see that she was a willing participant, but to what extent he didn't know. When they had arrived Kathy had watched Jack and her mother smile at each other.

"It's alright Mum, as he's bonking you, you are allowed to give him a hug."

And after her mother had done so Kathy had pecked him on the cheek. "Good evening, revered teacher," she giggled.

An alcove came free. Jack sat with his back to the wall, the women side by side opposite with their backs to the entrance. The high side-walls made it a private area.

"My art teacher at school is really pleased with how much my painting is improving because of you," said Kathy.

"Kathy, I've told you often, you are really talented," said Jack patting her hand.

Kathy smiled in acknowledgment. "She asked if you would be available to give some lectures at school. But I told her you were much too busy."

"Kathy," exclaimed Frances. "How could you? You know Jack is almost broke."

"I didn't want him anywhere near those two tramps Samantha Biggs and Jacqui Johnson." Then she realized what she had done.

"I'm sorry Jack that was very selfish of me. I'll tell her tomorrow that you could do it, if you like."

Jack looked at her unhappy face and patted her hand again. 

"Don't worry Kathy, I really don't have the time," he paused. "But please, could you tell me how I could get to meet Samantha and Jacqui?" he asked with a broad grin

"No-where, no-how, no-place." she slapped his hand

"I'll talk to their mothers and suggest they enroll in Jack's class at the academy," said Frances with a smirk.

"Mother!" Kathy exclaimed, but then realized a game was being played and gave Frances a hug.

"Doesn't my Mum look so beautiful, particularly now that you have made her so happy."

She took Jack's hand and looked steadily into his face. "I am so grateful to you for what you have done for Mum. You are a marvelous, marvelous man." 

"He is," sighed Frances, "and in other ways you can't even imagine."

Kathy was still holding Jack's hand.

"Mum please don't talk like that. I'm so happy for you, you know that. But I'm really jealous of you as well."

Jack put both his hands around Kathy's.

"Jealousy is a terrible sin, beautiful Kathy."

"I'm sorry Jack, I shouldn't be saying this, but . . but ," she hesitated, but the two glasses of wine took over as she looked earnestly into his eyes, " but I do adore you."

"And I adore you Kathy, you are so bright, so much fun and so, so beautiful. He stroked her face. She took his hand and kissed it.

"This is a little difficult to say, but Frances and I think there is a way to stop you feeling jealous."

Kathy pondered. "I don't want you to stop going with Mum because of me."

"Stopping going with Frances is certainly not my intention."

Kathy frowned in concentration, then a wide smile broke across her face.

"You mean you are going to bonk both of us at the same time."

"Like most men I don't have the tackle for both at exactly the same time."

"Don't be silly Jack." She rushed around the table and squeezed herself onto his knee. Open mouthed they kissed and their tongues entwined. Jack's hand went to her breast which made Kathy hug him tighter.

"Not quite so fast young lady," said Frances. "There are one or two things you need to know."

"Mother!"

"She's right." Jack gave her breast a squeeze. "It's best if you sat beside Frances."

Kathy pouted, but did as requested.

"Jack is the most marvelous lover. But he has some rules which you will think are strange. I certainly did. Our lovely Jack is a control freak." Frances poked out her tongue at Jack.

"When it concerns sex you must do absolutely as he says and you must never ask him for anything."

Kathy looked wide eyed. "Is that why you call him Master?"

"Yes."

Kathy took Jack's hand and placed it on her breast. "Does that mean I will be your sex slave."

"In a manner of speaking I suppose."

"Does it mean I can call you Master also?"

"If you want to."

"Kathy, my lovely daughter, Jack also has a strange dress code for us. We are never allowed to wear bras whenever we are with him. Even at things like art class. Never at all."

"Jack knows I'm not wearing one now."

"And when the two of you are alone together, or the three of us like now, we are not allowed to wear any knickers."

"You mean I shouldn't be wearing any now?"

"There's the rest room over there, Kathy," said Jack pointing.

"No problems. Sorry, I mean yes Master" said Kathy and walked away, her min-skirt swaying with her hips.

Jack stroked Frances' face. "Somehow I don't think she is going to find very much of this strange," he laughed.

Kathy returned and sat down looking steadily at Jack, but with a slight smile.

"Next," she said.

"Jack needs to be sure you are not wearing a bra."

"He's felt my breasts. He knows."

"He needs to be sure."

Kathy pondered the implications of this, then looked down at her blouse and undid all the buttons. Then she opened it wide. Only then did she look up at Jack.

Her breasts were younger versions of Frances' perfection. Slightly rounder with large pink aureoles. Youthful and firm they pointed proudly at Jack. He leaned forward and gently stroked her left breast.

"Kathy, my beautiful. Your body is exquisite." Kathy smiled in gratitude and pride.

"Just for you you, Jack, anytime you want," she whispered.

"Our skirts need to be like this when we are sitting with Jack."

Frances half stood, protected by the chair back and lifted the back of her skirt before she sat down bare bummed on her seat.

Kathy immediately did the same. "Oh that leather feels nice."

"Hussy," sighed Frances smiling.

"Jack needs to be sure that you aren't wearing any knickers."

Some of Kathy's confidence left her.

"Kathy, please sit right at the front of your chair," whispered Jack stroking her hand.

She did so.

"Now please lean back against the back-rest."

After some hesitation Kathy did so."

"Now lift up the front of your dress, darling daughter."

Tears came into Kathy's eyes.

"Mummy, I'm dirty down there. I don't want to offend Jack."

"Don't be silly Kathy," Frances' voice was harsh. "You have about ten showers a day and our Master decides what offends him. I'm sure it is your disobedience right now."

Frances turned away from Kathy, picked up a menu and discussed it with Jack, both of them ignoring Kathy.

After half a minute they heard a chocking sob.

"Master, I've done as you asked."

Kathy's skirt was above her waist. Her scimpy pubic hair didn't hide her plump, inviting outer labia. Jack could see the shape of her clitoral hood. He marveled at the firm shapeliness of her upper thighs.

He went around the table and kissed Kathy's tear-stained uplifted face.

"Kathy, you are an exotic beauty."

Jack turned to Frances, apparently very angry..

"Frances. What about you? Have you no dress sense? Does your daughter need to show you?"

"Mother!" growled Kathy. "For goodness sake. Think of our family's good name."

Jack enjoyed the way Kathy's breasts bounced as she laughed with them.

Frances' opened her blouse and lifted her skirt. Jack was confronted with two exquisite bodies, four exquisite breasts, two slim flat bellies and four puffy outer pussy lips.

"Mother! Have you been here all evening with no underwear."

"Mmmmm." Frances replied, her eyes closed and totally relaxed.

"Frances," he said. "Do you remember how the other night you asked 'Can Heaven be better than this'?"

Frances nodded.

"The answer to your question is 'No'."

Jack could tell that Kathy wasn't as relaxed as her mother and asked them both to lower their skirts.

He reached out and fondled a breast each of them.

"Ah, my brace of brazen Barringtons' beautiful breasts." Four nipples bounced with giggles.

They chatted away on subjects other than sex. Like her mother had before, Kathy become completely unselfconscious about her naked breasts. Jack did not stare at them all the time and when he did look at her it was not a gawk or leer. It was a gaze of worship.

Occasionally he would lean across and fondle her or her mother's aureole, but in a rather detached way.

He went away to the rest-room.

Frances turned to Kathy.

"Please sweetheart, do what he asks.Not because of the punishment, but because he can take you to a dream world that you could never have imagined."

"I'm a bit nervous that I don't know what to do."

"I didn't know either. But Jack told me, my body told me. You will find that there is a side of you which he will bring out."

"I don't want to talk too much Kathy, but it will help if you understand this. Jack will be totally in charge, but everything he does will be to make you so happy. 

"Even if you don't think so at first.. Don't under-estimate this, you will have to fight yourself sometimes to follow his commands."

Kathy's eyes glowed.

"Mum, you are so lovely to share him with me."

They hugged. They kissed.

Kathy suddenly started to laugh.

"If only your friends at book club and my friends at school could see us. In a pub with bare breasts and bare bums."

She looked at her mother.

"Mum you are just so beautiful. No wonder he looks at you the way he does."

"He looks the same way at you. But that's a bit of what I mean. When he first made me do this I was horrified. Now I feel so much in love with my sexuality; the forbidden excitement it makes me want to . . " She faltered. "I can't tell you what it makes me want to do."

When Jack returned Frances said. "May I leave now, Master?"

"Sure Frances, and thanks for your help."

Frances stood went over to Jack so that he could briefly suckle her nipple, then made herself decent, hugged Kathy and left.

Hand in hand Kathy and Jack walked to his apartment. Kathy was so excited she half skipped, her mini-skirt swirling.

They entered. Kathy loved the high ceilings, the wooden floorboards and huge windows. Then she saw his paintings.

"Oh Jack, they are fabulous. May I look at them."

"In a minute. There's a rule of the house. No clothes or jewelry past here." He pointed to the floorboard. 

Kathy's mind rebelled, but then she remembered her mother's advice about fighting herself. She stripped completely and was a little surprised when Jack took her garments and earrings with no obvious interest in or reaction to her nudity.

"And no make-up. There's the bathroom."

When Kathy returned he was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine.

"Now you can look at the paintings if you want to."

Kathy wasn't sure that she did want to, but didn't know what else to do. But she loved all his work and wandered around the room.

Jack may have appeared to be interested in his magazine, but he was drinking in her teenage beauty as she walked.

Kathy was mature teenage perfection. Her shoulder length hair bounced as she walked. Her face, uplifted to look at his paintings, shone with enthusiasm. Her wide brown eyes, her chiseled nose, her strong cheek bones, her generous full-lipped mouth and firm chin, her perfect smooth skin which seemed to glow.

She was a gymnast, he knew, and the benefits showed. Not a trace of puppy fat, hints of muscle tone in her arms, her abs and her long, elegantly long legs.

Her firm pink tipped breasts were uplifted and jutting, her buttocks were perfectly rounded and when she faced him there was her skimpy pubic patch. He felt a little nostalgic as this would be the last time he would see that.

His erection was so hard it hurt as it strained against his boxers.

"Could you get me some wine from the fridge."

"Yes Master, may I have some too."

"No, Frances will be angry angry if I get you pissed."




This Time Her Daughter



She giggled, breasts jiggled.

She walked towards him with the wine and noticed his gaze. She stopped.

"I hope I am beautiful enough for you."

"Kathy a poet could not describe you. You are Botticelli's Venus, Rodin's Eternal Idol, a youthful Venus de Milo. No more than that. It is as if God had selected the best from each and created you.

"Your beauty brings tears to my eyes." And she saw that this was true.

She stood for a moment, walked over to Jack, kissed him briefly then knelt in front.

"Your wine Master."

He took a sip.

"Kathy, my Venus," he stroked her hair. "Please go into the bedroom. Choose some music and put it on softly. There are two candles and an incense stick. Please light them, then turn off the light and lie face down on the bed.

Silently Kathy stood, again kissed him briefly and went to the bedroom.

Jack unhurriedly sipped his wine, then stripped to his boxers and followed her.

The bedroom was as requested. Kathy was lying face down, her head on one side, eyes closed, her hair splayed across the pillow.

He knelt with one leg on either side of her back, not touching her and poured a little musky scented massage oil.

His fingers were like a pianist's on a piano, but the instrument was her body. Not a word was spoken. Kathy lay enchanted by the mood, by the music and incense. Her skin still sung where his hands had been. Often when he touched her it was so delicious that her toes curled.

Jack started with her fingers, moved up her arms to her shoulders then neck. Every inch, every muscle on her back, down to her buttocks.

His fingers traced her spine from her neck to her coccyx and slightly beyond. Again her toes curled.

He moved to her feet and toes. 

"Part your beautiful legs Kathy."

She did.

"Quite a lot more please."

She did and was aware that her labia were open to his view.

He knelt between her legs. Almost too slowly he delighted her calves and then moved up the outside of her left thigh.

"Again a little wider, my Venus." as he started up the inside.

Kathy's toes curled and her breathing deepened. Exotically, erotically he moved up her inner leg to the top.

He marveled at the satiny firmness. She marveled at his erotic touch. His fingers did not touch her labia directly, but the back of his knuckles did repeatedly.

Kathy groaned, her hips writhed, without being asked she spread her legs wider.

The same on her right thigh. Kathy's breathing changed to a pant as his knuckles again brushed her labia. She was rewarded by the briefest of invasions of her inner lips. He was pleased how moist and slippery they were.

"Roll over please beautiful Kathy."

She did so, opened her eyes and held out her arms. Jack kissed her tenderly and deeply and then pulled pack. Fleetingly he kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her chin, Adam's Apple and clavicles. Each nipple was kissed and licked and so were her navel and pubic mound. Kathy's toes curled and her breathing became deeper.

Her mind was now in conflict as he started his massage again on her front. She loved the feel as his fingers traced over her face and upper arms, but Oh God could he PLEASE get back to her cunt. She forced herself to relax as he massaged her shoulders and throat. Naturally he dwelt on her breasts, tickling, tweaking and massaging.

Across her abdomen and her stomach turned to jelly under his touch, she seemed to loose control of her hips. He stopped at her pubic mound, just a gentle touch of the top of her clitoral hood.

"Oh God, NO," her mind shrieked but she spread her legs wide as he moved to her feet. At last he was was at the top of her thighs again, at last his knuckles were tormenting her labia again. Kathy panted and wanted to scream.

"Pull your feet back towards your bum."

She did so and the exploration of her pussy started. His beautiful fingers worked their wonders on her outer lips, across her perineum, then all to briefly into her sodden vaginal canal.

"Lift your bum, Princess," and he placed two pillows underneath.

Before she realized his face was buried in her pussy.

"Jack, no. Please, I'm dirty there."

"Shhhh! And a tap on her buttock. Kathy's mind rebelled, but again she remembered her mother's advice about fighting herself.

She felt his tongue caress her inner labia and then enter her vagina. Then his nose for heaven's sake.

Jack looked up.

"My wonderful erotic Kathy. Your cunt tastes and smells so wonderfully, femininely delicately, deliciously SEXY.

His fingers eased back her clitoral hood.

Partially reassured she relaxed and her doubts were overwhelmed as this warm, this incredible feeling started to emerge from her clitoris under his tongue and lips.

"Oh, Jack, that's wonderful."

The warmth, the sensation, the urgency, the intensity spread through her loins. She lost control of her bucking haunches and her orgasm juddered through her.

For the next half hour he stayed there, licking and kissing everywhere from her pubic bone to her perineum. His fingers excited her G spot and she writhed and groaned uncontrollably. Kathy lost count of her climaxes, they seemed to merge.

Sometimes she gasped and moaned, sometimes she squealed uncontrollably, sometimes Kathy just sighed and whispered, "My darling lovely Master."

Jack came up beside her and Kathy eased off his boxers, looked at his engorged penis and inexpertly stroked it.

"Now, my Goddess," he whispered in her ear.

Kathy opened her arms, opened her thighs and raised her knees and Jack entered her.

Ever so slowly, ever so tenderly, until he nudged her cervix. Still agonizing slowly he commenced his rhythm, savoring every exquisite sensation from his engorged penis.

Kathy was in heaven at first by the romance and the excitement of her previous orgasms. Now she delighted in feeling his strength, his masculinity his hardness filling her femininity. Then these beautiful, intoxicating feelings from her vagina. Her hips moved gently, she kissed him more passionately and hugged him even tighter.

Jack was in no hurry. He varied his rhythm, his depth, his angle. His knob found her G spot and Kathy became aware of a more powerful, even more erotic pleasure.

Jack concentrated there, building his pressure and speed. Kathy lost conscious awareness of the whole world apart from this glorious sensation building up and engulfing her. Her hips, her whole body writhed.

She grunted and sighed and then her loins seemed to explode.

" Ooooooooohh Aaaaaaaaahh Oh Jaaaaaaack."

Jack now satisfied himself thrusting deeply and harshly into her innermost recess. His orgasm came charging through his loins, his cock and exploded into Kathy's cervix.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

They lay entwined, kissing and giggling and chatting, then there was a knock on the door.

"Its me," called Frances. "I'm sorry but it's time to take Kathy home."

"Come in Frances," called Jack.

Hand in hand they walked into the living room where Frances had already taken off her clothes. The three of them stood in a huddle each other, kissing and hugging each other.

"Mum it was so absolutely gorgeous," Kathy burst into tears and both Jack and her mother hugged her and soothed her.

Kathy had noticed Frances' shaved pussy. 

"You do look so lovely all bare down there. Do you want me to have a Brazilian Jack."

"Well, I'll miss your elegant pubic patch, but I know I'll like you lovely pussy even more."

Kathy went to shower and Frances replaced her on Jack's knee.

"Jack we are so lucky having you."

He kissed her. "Frances, could you please teach Kathy all your wonderful skills of oral sex."

"Of course."

And as a reward he brought her to orgasm in exactly the same way as her daughter three minutes before.



This Time She's Gone Too Far



For everyone who's about to read this story, please know that it's actually part 5 of a larger saga I started on another account which I've become locked out of. If you want context on what you're about to read please see the following links for parts 1 - 4. If however, you don't care much for context then please dive right in and enjoy!

1 - So how long have you been into feet? - https://www.literotica.com/s/so-how-long-have-you-been-into-feet

2 - Lick my feet, lick my ass - https://www.literotica.com/s/lick-my-feet-lick-my-ass

3 - Under the table footjob domination - https://www.literotica.com/s/under-the-table-footjob-domination

4 - Dominated by 2 exotic bitches - https://www.literotica.com/s/dominated-by-2-exotic-bitches

*****

For the second time in less than 3 hours I found myself beating my fists against the door to Salima's apartment, but I wasn't just mad this time. I was seething with a pulsating and violent rage that that had me screaming her name at the top of my lungs, and tearing white skin off bare knuckles as they slammed against oak wood. This time she'd gone too far. Enough was enough. She'd gone too fucking far this time and now my life was ruined. 

She hadn't just gotten me sacked from my job and hence ruined my career; that would be enough to keep most psychopaths amused but not Salima. No; she had much more in store for me. She'd enlisted the help of Maryse, her sexy, hard bodied slut of a Brazilian fitness model friend, to tie me up and tease my cock to bursting point with their soft sweaty feet while they ruptured my testicles. And while I'm on that point, I understand the audience I'm talking to right now and fully realise that some of you think that would be a good thing to have happen; so if you're one of those idiots please trust me when I tell you that you're wrong, OK? They secretly filmed everything on my phone and posted the video to my Facebook for every last one of my friends and family to see. Please tell me if that sounds even remotely appealing to any of you. To have everyone you know see 1080p HD video footage of you begging to be humiliated and actually ejaculating when you are? Yeah, that's what I thought; and now you see exactly where I'm coming from. This wasn't good. Not even a little bit. This was very, very bad.

I was humiliated. Destroyed. Broken. I was fucked. 

Ever since that video was posted to my wall I'd had more missed calls and texts from friends and family than I could count and I just didn't know what to do. 

Not only was my professional life over, but I was the laughing stock of my entire social circle and what's more, she simply didn't give a shit. I knew it, and she knew it. I knew that she knew that I knew she was actually happy she'd done this to me. That she laughed about it. Joked about it, and found the whole thing amusing without a shadow of a doubt. You see to Salima, ruining my life was just a big comedic spectacle to keep her entertained between shopping for expensive heels, sliding her legs into sheer Wolford stockings, and climbing the corporate ladder. Some women like watching soap operas and some are into yoga; this was just her thing.

And thanks to that bitch, they all knew. They all knew what I was into. Every single last person I was even remotely familiar with had seen that video and were now acutely aware of the deep levels of sexual kink that burn through my subconscious. They all saw me sweating. They all saw me whimpering. They all saw me begging like a lust-crazed bitch with soft, gorgeous sweaty Indian and Brazilian feet smothering every inch of my face. And finally, they all saw me cum like a fountain and spray semen all over myself without any stimulation, just from being told to fucking do it. Can you think of anything more humiliating?

Thanks to that cunt everyone I cared about knew far more about me than anyone would ever want someone else to know. I didn't need to take any of the non stop calls or the endless barrage of texts I was getting to know that they'd all either lost every ounce of respect they once had for me or thought I needed professional help.

Even my mom had seen that video. My fucking mom. Can you believe that? This wasn't a joke. It just wasn't a fucking joke anymore.

Salima. That fucking bitch. That selfish, gorgeous, psychopathic, evil, manipulative bitch saw destroying my life as nothing more than casual sport. She got off on the idea of using her sexuality to humiliate me and in her eyes the more damage she could do the better. She just didn't respect me. It was like I was something she'd scraped off the bottom of her shoe. Like she thought I should consider myself eternally grateful to have her grace me with her time and presence no matter what she might choose to do to me. It was as if she genuinely believed that I should be not only OK with everything she did but actually happy because it was she who'd done it to me. Can you fucking believe that? Can you comprehend for even a moment the kind of mental space a person needs to be living in for thoughts like that to occur? For it not to be an act but an honest expression of who they really are? The ego of this woman was nothing short of incredible. It was off the charts. She honestly saw herself as a modern day goddess. It wasn't a fucking act; it was how she genuinely viewed herself.

Well, as I beat my ripped and bloody fists against solid oak and fantasised deeply about the seven different ways I knew to choke her into unconsciousness, I told myself that enough was enough. That it didn't matter how fucking beautiful she was or how seductive her voice sounded when she purred in my ear. I didn't give a fuck how fit and shapely her body was, how soft, perfectly formed and beautifully scented her feet were, or how sublimely talented she was at using them to make me blast DNA in all directions like no woman ever. She'd gone way too far and was now going to reap the rewards of all she'd sowed. I'd never hit a woman before that moment. It wasn't something I'd ever even considered considering but her actions demanded an appropriate response and a stern talking to simply wasn't going to cut it.

I was going to do it. I was going to beat the living shit out of a woman. 

And I was going to like it.

When the door finally opened it was Maryse who stood in front of me, smiling with her curly golden blonde hair, tanned skin, beautiful face and toned fitness model physique like she didn't have a care in the world. Without a word, I placed both hands on top of her huge and firm breasts, shoved her out of the way with full force and stormed straight into the living room screaming Salima's name like a man possessed. When I arrived, I found a scene of dimmed lighting, scented candles and ambient middle eastern music that oozed sex from every last note. I then saw Salima, completely naked from head to toe, smothered in baby oil, sat on a chair facing away from me and straddling a powerfully built and ripped 20 something black stud who looked to be an athlete. Her feminine hips were slowly and sensually grinding up and down and back and forth on the entire length of his massive cock as her jet black hair swayed smoothly across her arched back with every deliberate cum inducing thrust. It was at this moment that I remembered what she said about having an MMA fighter and a marine coming round to fuck her and Maryse after I left; and it was at that moment when I started to wonder what the fuck I'd gotten myself into.

'Ahh, you're here...' She panted, without even looking in my direction.

'You fucking bitch! You fucking bitch! YOU FUCKING BITCH!'

'Come...over...here...and...lick my ass...while this nigga splits...me..in..2.'

'YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU RUINED MY FUCKING LIFE!!'

'If...you...lick...my...ass...maybe I'll step on your neck...you'd like that...wouldn't you?'

'LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!'

With that, she slowly leaned all the way backwards until she was upside down and now looking right at me with her full, thick and swaying breasts on display for my vengeful but very aware eyes. Never for one second did she stop fucking that black guy. She continued her slow and rhythmical dance along the length of his massive penis as her left hand squeezed her right breast and her whole body snaked and coiled around him with a sexual energy that was nothing less than predatory. She looked me in the eye for at least 5 seconds with the most dismissive smile I've ever seen before finally responding.

'I'd rather...focus...my energies on...a real...man.' 

Before the impact of those words could even register, she went back to slowly impaling her tight Indian pussy with his long, thick, veiny shaft; purring like a tigress with every deliberate thrust. She reached one hand behind her and draped it along the curved contours of her glistening back until it fell under her bulbous butt cheeks and clamped his balls tightly. It was clear for all to see that he loved the pain this caused. He loved it just as much as I'm ashamed to say I would have done in his position. The feeling of her oiled fingers skilfully curling around his swollen nuts caused a frenzy of red hot agony and unbearable lust to burst from his crotch and infuse with every cell in his black athlete body. He grunted like a wild bull in a storm of sexual torment and she purred even more at his delirious pain as glistening juices began to pour out of her damp cunt and flood the carpet. 

She was already completely oblivious to my presence. She just sat on that chair and fucked that black bull like I didn't even exist. 

Like I didn't matter. 

Like I was of no more consequence than a fucking ant. 

I hated her. 

I swear to God I fucking hated the bitch.

I hated what she did to me. What she always did to me. The way she disrespected me so openly. I hated her more than I'd ever hated anyone I'd ever met and I hated the fact that despite how much I did fucking hate her, a massive part of me wanted her more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. I hated the fact that as I saw her seductive body slowly ride his mammoth black cock with one hand on his neck and the other snaking circles around his swollen balls, I wished it was me. I hated the fact that I wanted more than anything for it to be my cock that was deep inside her. That I wanted to feel her use that pussy to squeeze my shaft with a vice-like grip and slowly coax the semen out of my bulging nuts. I hated seeing his thick, muscular arms wrap around her feminine back and claim her for his own. And I hated the fact that as his hands squeezed her firm ass and pulled the cheeks apart to give me a tease of the delicious hole my dick would never enter, that same dick stiffened in my pants with an agenda that flew right in the face of its owner's intentions.

I wanted her to die. And I mean that. That's not a euphemism or an exaggeration. I fucking wanted the bitch dead.

I was angry. Fucking angry. Livid and bursting with white-hot rage and without even realising it I found myself screaming like a primal beast as I hurled myself across the room with violent intent. That said, before I could get halfway across, I felt a sledgehammer of a fist slam into the side of my jaw and drop me straight to the carpet. Seconds later I had a huge and built blonde meathead wrestling me to the floor and throwing repeated punches and elbows against a face that still stank of foot and ass juice. I fought back with everything I had but he was just too strong and before I knew it he had me completely immobilised. 

I struggled to free my right hand and managed to punch him right in the eye. He responded with a devastating head-butt to the bridge of my nose that put me into shock and sent blood trickling out.

I was rocked half senseless and barely knew where, who, or what I was. My hearing sounded like I was 25 feet underwater and everything in my field of vision had a semi translucent Siamese twin. That said, I fought through curdled groans to beat the shit out of the man who was on top of me, driven by an urge for vengeance that went far deeper than words or logic. I fished my keys out of my pocket and was seconds away from driving them into his temple when I felt feminine yet muscular hands grab my own from behind and pin then to the ground above my head. I looked up to see the beautiful face of Maryse sadistically smiling at me from behind golden curled blonde hair, tanned skin, and devilish green eyes. This bitch didn't just have the body of an elite athlete but the physicality of one too because she was incredibly strong. No matter what I did I couldn't pull her off, and the more I struggled against both her and the blonde meathead the more exhausted I became; and the more exhausted I became, the more I weakened, and the more I weakened, the more she openly laughed in my face.

'Get off me! Get the fuck off me!'

'Why are we going to do that when there is so much super awesome fun to have with you!?'

'Let me go, Maryse! LET ME FUCKING GO!'

'Your face smells like feet and butt! Your face smells like feet and butt! You loser! You still stink like us! Did you jerk to our smell after you went home?! Was it good? Is this why you are back for more?!'

I spat in Maryse's face, both hoping and expecting to piss her off but instead saw her eyes light up with mad pleasure. She repeated the favour, spitting back more times than I could count until my cheeks and nose were thick and moist with dripping wet saliva; and that was when the blonde white fuck stomped my stomach and ribs causing a burst of pain so strong it made every muscle in my body go stiff. My torso was wracked with agony, I couldn't breathe, and my arms felt as powerful as wet pasta. All I could do was lay on my back and moan through what felt like a broken nose as Maryse openly giggled at my spit drenched face.

'That's enough...get off him.' Said Salima with more than just a hint of delight in her voice. At her command, the blonde stud who'd just stomped the shit out of me, got up and stood to one side leaving me face to face with the evil queen bitch herself. She was still sat astride the black bull, still taking every inch of his massive cock deep into her pussy and still uttering sensual purrs like a feline weapon of mass sexual destruction; but had now spun around on said cock and was sat facing me. Her toned and shapely caramel brown legs were wide open as she drilled herself on his shaft and her breasts buoyed with each thrust in a manner that would put any man into a deep trance. But not me. Not today. Not anymore. I was completely over her and her manipulative bullshit. I didn't give a fuck how sexy she was, I'd never give her the satisfaction of thinking she'd turned me on ever again.

'Well, well well...look at what...we have...here.' She said, smiling down upon me with a glare in her eyes that made her look like the most dangerous woman on earth. 'I presume you...came here for revenge...after...what I did on your Facebook...and I understand...why...you...want that. But sadly it's not going...to happen.'

'WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS TO ME?! WHY?! WHY?!'

'Because this is your place...and I like to let...you know it. Because as much as you wish you were like these two...animals, the truth is that you...are...you. I don't fuck guys like...you, I fuck guys like them. For guys like...these I get down on my knees...I take their hard cocks in my...mouth. I suck...and...lick...them...with my wet tongue as they grab me by the hair and ram...my...mouth deeper and deeper until their balls slap hard against my...chin. I love the fact that they're so...fucking...rugged...and...alpha that the pain of their nuts being flattened against my skull isn't enough to deter them from fucking my face into oblivion and treating me like the filthy little slut I am.'

She stopped fucking the black bull's cock and just sat and stared right at me while completely motionless and armed with a cunt full of stiff dick. She never lost that disdainful smile though. Not for one second.

'My pussy runs like a river when they throw me down on all floors and eat my ass out from behind like it's a matter of life and death. It drips more than your nose is right now if I'm going to be really honest. To feel their eager tongues worshiping my butthole and their strong hands squeezing my breasts till they're sore makes my lungs shudder and blood drain from my brain until I'm so light headed I think I might lose consciousness. It's like a drug to me. It's like crack. It's moments like these when I truly understand what it means to be a woman, when I truly feel at my most beautiful and feminine. To be enveloped by intense masculine energy and to submit to that energy fully in mind, body and soul. Do you even know what I mean by that? Do you truly understand the message I'm conveying to you? What am I saying? Of course you don't. Hell, you don't even know what it truly means to be a man so how could you possibly understand how it feels to be in perfect alignment with everything you were put on this earth to be? Suffice it to say that when I've got a savage beast of man who's built like the god of war fucking me like a wild gorilla with my sweaty toes in his mouth and his hands on a near fatal mission to choke all the oxygen out of my neck, my pussy runs like Niagara Falls.'

'FUCK YOU!! FUCK YOU!!'

'Yes, fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Fuck me until my pussy squirts all over your erupting cock. Imagine that. You actually being able to do just that. To fuck me. Me. Salima. The object of your wildest fantasies. Imagine being able to fuck me like you've always wanted, like these men get to do on a regular basis. Actually that's not really true; what you've always wanted is to be beneath my feet, but while you have done that, we both know that it's having access to my pussy that will make you feel like the man you wish you were. To drill in and out and in and out of my dripping hole with your balls slapping hard against it. Imagine actually hearing the juices squirt out with each thrust and squelch against your crotch. Imagine tasting my salty toes in your mouth while you fucked me. You do remember them right? My sweaty, sexy little Indian toes? The ones you spent months jerking your dick to in the toilets at work because you couldn't handle me dipping and dangling my heels in front of you all day? Well Imagine them in your mouth right now, all moist, wet and delicious while you pound my hole and choke me until veins bulge from my forehead and my eyes go bloodshot.'

'JUST LET ME FUCKING GO!'

'No. No I'm afraid I won't be doing that. And in any event, you're the one who came here uninvited. I told you to leave. I told you that these guys were coming and I gave you a fair chance to get out of dodge but you chose to come back so I can only assume that deep down you actually want this. But still, it doesn't have to be all misery. Think of the good things in life. What is it that football managers say after their teams lose matches? Oh yes, think of the positives. Just imagine the scene I created. Imagine choking me the way you know you wish you could, while you fuck me the way you know you never will. Let that image be your one shining beacon in an otherwise dark and murky ocean of sexual malcontent.'

'LET ME GO!!'

'And as I just said, you say you want me to let you go but at the end of the day, you came here of your own volition so I really don't have any sympathy for you. Rather than head home and furiously jerk your cock to the foot and butt scent that I can smell glued to your face from here, you chose to re-enter the venomous snake pit so don't act shocked when you get bitten.'

And with that, she gave a nod and a wink to the white meathead who proceeded to stomp on my ribs, stomach and face more times than I care to remember, leaving me a broken mess on her carpeted floor. But you know what made matters even worse? They all laughed. Every last one of them. They didn't give even the tiniest fuck about what they were doing to me, they just thought the whole thing was fucking funny. That beautiful blonde haired Latina of a fitness model called Maryse giggled right into my eyes as she kept my wrists pinned and the black and white duo of alpha males actually exchanged high fives. Salima, who was still sat naked and firmly skewered on the hugely muscled black bull's giant cock, ran oiled fingers along oiled breasts and down to an oiled pussy that was dripping juices onto wet carpet near Indian toes that curled and uncurled like the claws of a apex predator.




This Time She's Gone Too Far



'Oh fuck. Oh fuck me that's so fucking hot...' She said as her juices soaked the carpet. 'Hit him again.'

The white blonde savage kicked me square in the jaw with full force, the impact of which, doctors have since told me caused my brain to ricochet inside my skull resulting in a concussion. I looked up at her and she looked right back. Her eyes ablaze with lustful disdain as the black bull's lips kissed her neck like she was the last woman on earth and his strong hands squeezed the fuck out of her swollen breasts. She slowly opened her legs to give me a clear view of her dripping pussy as it was being deeply penetrated, caught some of her own juices in her hand and dismissively flicked them in my mouth. The fact they tasted so damn good made me all the more enraged.

'See. I'm not...all bad. Here's a...little present.'

'You're crazy.' I gasped. 'You're fucking crazy!'

'And isn't...that why...you love...me so?'

'Just stop this! Fucking stop this you fucking psychopath!'

'No, I've...got a...better...idea.'

With that, she slid herself off the black bull's cock, walked over, stood directly above me and bent forward at the waist so I had both her and Maryse's evil faces smiling down at me from on high. She then started barking instructions to the black bull.

'I want you to fuck me in the ass and fuck me hard.'

And now to the blonde stud.

'You. I want you to drill me in the mouth even harder than he fucks my ass. I want the two of you to go to fucking war on me and if I'm able to stand by the time you're finished you haven't done your jobs properly.'

'Hey! Does nobody get to be fucking me?'

'Not just now, Maryse, but you'll get your turn so please be patient.'

'No. I want to be fucked. I want to be fucked too!'

'Well, you're going to have to wait.'

'No. No I will not wait. I cannot take watching big black cock fill your pussy. It is not fair to keep making me see that and not have it done to me.

'Maryse, just be patient.'

'No. No! Why do you get two cocks inside you and I get nothing?! Where is the justice?! I want cock inside me. I want cock inside me!'

'Wait your turn.' 

'No! No I am not waiting! I am going to fuck the footboy.'

'Leave me the fuck alone! Leave me the fuck alone!'

'Come on, Maryse, you can't seriously want to take his pathetic cock inside you. His sole purpose is to sanitise our feet and assholes with his tongue and nothing more. Don't demean yourself yourself by turning him into more than he is.'

'No. No. I want to be fucked. I want to be fucked now and you cannot stop me.'

As you can no doubt tell from that exchange, Maryse simply wasn't prepared to buy what Salima was selling. And, with that final comment, she walked over to my groin and unbuttoned my jeans before pulling out the cock that I'm ashamed to admit was harder than cast iron and shooting up at the sky like the Statue of Liberty. Rock hard erection or not, however, I still didn't want any part of this bitch.

'Get the fuck off me! Get the fuck off me, you cunt!'

'Oh wow... His cock is massive! You are right, he loves it when we treat him like bitch!'

'Exactly. What kind of man would have an erection after everything we've done to him? Is this really the type of guy you want to fuck?'

'I just want to fuck somebody! Anybody! He will do!'

'OK but just don't...make it too...easy for him...make him work for...it.'

'Do not tell me what to do!'

Salima, still stood directly above me and once again looking right into my eyes, licked the blonde stud's rock hard cock as the black bull's engorged tool prized open her round ass cheeks from the back. They started slowly at first, moving with smooth and sensual rhythm but built up speed gradually and unceasingly until their cocks were slamming in and out of her ass and mouth like alternating hydrologic pistons. She took the blonde dude's cock so deep into her throat it genuinely sounded like she was going to choke on it. Spit ran down her mouth and fell right on top of my face as her body jerked and shuddered with several guttural groans that erupted right from the pit of her stomach. Maryse scooted next to me on the floor. Her beautiful Brazilian face right next to the sweaty and spit drenched mess that was mine, and lips whispering softly into my ear as delicate fingers locked firmly around my twitching cock.

'Get the fuck off me! Get the fuck off me!'

'I am sorry foot boy, but I am much stronger than you and you seem to be tired so you will just have to learn to live with what is happening to you. But hey, when we met earlier and played five stages of hell, I know that you really badly wanted me to touch your penis, right? You wanted to feel what I am doing to you now. You were thinking 'Why will she not touch my cock?! Why will she not touch my cock?! Oh my God! I am so fucking horny! Please, Maryse! Please touch my cock!

Well I am doing that for you now, so you should be happy.

You wanted my long fingers to stroke it all the way up and all the way down, just like I am doing now, did you not? I know that I was mean to you before and I apologise for making you so horny with my big butt on your face. I am sorry for suffocating you with my big beautiful Latina butt and causing your testicles to swell with cum. I understand how painful and frustrating that must have been for you. To want nothing more than to give up and spray your seed but know that if you did the hot girl who was teasing you might lose respect and refuse to fuck you in future. I can understand the excruciating position that I put you and your balls in and I apologise. I know that between what I did to your balls while I made you sniff my pungent asshole and what me and Salima did to them when we kicked, pulled and squeezed them with our toes, they may never be the same again. I am sorry for being so horrible to your poor little balls, I truly am. Also; I am sorry for making you cum so hard that you become unconscious. But that is how it is when guys like you like you meet girls like us. If you are very lucky and get to enjoy us, that enjoyment will come at a price. Of course that price is high and painful to the body and soul but it is always worth it.'

I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything because every fibre of my being was concentrated on making the severely bloated prick between my legs deflate. Every second I spent with an 8 inch erection jutting out of my body like a historic monument to sexual humiliation was a direct insult to my dignity and far worse than anything these bitches had put me through. Why wouldn't it go down!? Why the fuck couldn't I get my cock to deflate!? I couldn't let them do this. I couldn't let them do this to me again. My ribs felt like they were broken and my nose stung every time I tried to breathe but worse than that I felt fear. I was terrified, absolutely fucking terrified for my safety and didn't know what to do. I was alone against a marine, an mma fighter, a fitness athlete and the most certifiably deranged woman I'd ever met in my life and I knew that anything could happen in that situation. All I could do was deny them the pleasure of thinking I was in any way enjoying myself but even that I couldn't do. My only available option was to give Salima and Maryse the silent middle finger by willing my cock flaccid but try as I might, it just wouldn't work. The fucking thing just wouldn't go down. The deceiving, traitorous, back stabbing snake between my legs was shooting up into the atmosphere like a pre-launch space shuttle and if I could have cut the thing off and thrown it out of a moving car, I probably would have. But that said; I still couldn't let them completely dominate me. I had to keep some semblance of self respect. I had to. So if that meant to trying focus on not moaning in sweet pleasure as Maryse's beautiful face and full lips grazed my wet cheek while she whispered into my ear then I'd take it. If that meant trying my hardest not to twitch and shudder like a mental patient as her teasing fingers, twirled and danced in cum-inducing strokes over every inch of my bloated penis then I'd settle for it.

But guess what. Throughout all of this Salima hadn't once taken her eyes off me. They were staring right at me with a look of excitement as spit ran out of her mouth and onto mine. She then stepped her soft and sweaty right foot on top of my face and just left it there, jerking back and forth as the black guy fucked her tight Indian butthole from behind. Her smelly toes were smothering my nose and the arch was covering my mouth as Maryse's skilled fingers caused my cock to pulse, stretch and bloat like crazy in her hands. Then; Salima stepped her full weight on me with the other foot giving me two, soft moist feet pressed down on my face and rubbing back and forth as their owner was being fucked like a jackhammer.

I didn't want to enjoy what was happening. I didn't want to be turned on by it, I promise you. You think I didn't know how humiliating it was to be laying on my back with a cock harder than Mount Rushmore as this bitch flattened my face with her feet? You think I wasn't acutely aware of the contempt held for me by every single last person in that room? Well trust me, I was acutely aware of that contempt and I did know how humiliating my predicament was but there was nothing I could do about it. Do you have any idea what that's like? To feel like you're literally at war with yourself and losing every single skirmish? To have a demon buried inside you? A demon with goals and desires that fly right in the face of everything that you yourself hold dear? A demon who's stronger than you? More powerful than you? A demon who overwhelms and controls you with ease and answers only to the one person that you hate most? Do you know what it's like to look into the eyes of a woman and know that not only do you despise her more than anyone on the planet, but you simultaneously crave her like she's the most intoxicating drug you've ever had flow through your veins? And finally, can you imagine what it'd be like to be alone in a room with that woman and 3 of her friends all of whom are united in the common goal of physically, emotionally and sexually humiliating you?

Well, if you can imagine all of that you'll probably be feeling about 10% of the turmoil I experienced at that moment. As much I hated myself for it, I simply couldn't help the way I felt. The cock never lies, and mine was at near bursting point. I was horny as fuck.

I could hear the slurp of her lips and tongue as she sucked the white guy off, taking his cock deep into her throat; squeezing and tugging on his balls while he groaned like an enraged animal. I could hear the hard slapping of the black bull's balls beating against her large, soft and fleshy butt as he pounded it with a relentless force that was as intimidating as it was impressive. I could hear all of those things and I've got to be honest with you, I wished it was me. Despite everything she'd done to me, all I wanted was for that to be my dick buried deep inside her asshole. For her to be bent over and sucking my turgid cock from swollen balls to rigid shaft to sensitive head with those beautiful lips and tongue. As much as I hated her as a person, she turned me on more than any woman I'd ever known; and she not only did she know that fact but she flaunted it right in my face. But guess what? The sheer arrogance with which she conducted herself made me even more turned on, even more weak for her. The feel of her beautiful sexy little feet smothering, my face made my cock bloat and solidify. The sound of her choking at the throat from one guy's dick while another drilled her butthole made that same cock twitch and spasm. Imagining how it would feel to swap places with just one of those men made the cum churn and squelch inside my nuts, and knowing that she knew how badly I wanted this but would forever deny it to me made my eyes glaze over and my limbs go limp. 

The addition of Maryse's fingers coiling and uncoiling around said cock was nothing more than sexual overkill.

I was moaning now. Groaning in smooth exhalations right in time with each thrust of Salima's feet against my face as Maryse's tanned Brazilian fingers snaked a dance of murderous sexual assault on my bulging tool. That was the moment when I felt a moist and tight vice clamp down on the tip of my dick from all sides and slowly lower itself down to the very base. It was Maryse, she'd gotten into a side split and was choking my cock with the walls of her pussy. Goddamn it she was soaking wet. She was so fucking wet I could feel and hear the juices pouring out of her cunt and onto my crotch as she clamped down on my cock as tightly as she possibly could. She gripped my dick like she was lost at sea and it was her last life jacket, and if the poor thing was actually able to breathe, it'd have been choking to death.

She squeezed and relaxed.

Squeezed and relaxed.

Squeezed and relaxed.

This wasn't a loving or sensual act she was performing; this was violent, this was sinister. She wasn't making love to my cock, but trying to fucking murder it. The bitch choked my cock like a boa constrictor wrapped firmly around the neck of its dying prey. Her internal muscles clenched, pumped and squirmed like they were hell bent on pumping enough cum out of my balls to leave them permanently dry. Her hips bucked and writhed in perfect unison with the soft and fragrant feet that pinned my face to the carpet and slid all over my nose. Her hands scratched and clawed at my chest like they were trying to draw blood. I was being sexually ravaged at both the crotch and the face and as I felt those tight pussy walls convulse around the sensitive tip of my penis, my head was filled with fantasies of Salima. Thoughts of her lowering her tight cunt right onto the thick slab of iron that jutted out from my crotch. Dreams of her using that cunt to sit on my cock and pin it back against my abs without actually taking it inside her. I vividly imagined her grinding its moist lips along the entire length from japs eye to ball sack as she wrapped her hands around my throat and choked the air out of my lungs. I saw her riding my hard cock without ever letting me penetrate her. Just rubbing, sliding, gliding and teasing with her pussy and ass cheeks until both it and my sweaty forehead were bursting with bloated veins and screaming for orgasmic release. But she wouldn't stop there. She'd never stop. She'd never ever stop. She'd just keep on going. She'd keep sliding on me. 

Keep sliding over me. 

Keep riding me. 

Teasing me. 

Choking me. 

She'd tell me that she knew exactly what I wanted and let me know that it was never going to happen. That I'd never get to fuck her. That as much as I wanted my drive my hard cock so deep inside her that cum burst through her neck, I was just going to have to dream on. She'd make me chant her name repeatedly through lust-crazed air-stricken gurgles and make sure I fully acknowledged the power she had over me. That even though I simply couldn't fucking breathe and wasn't sure I'd survive there was nowhere else on earth I'd rather be. She'd make me adore her. Worship her. Love her. Need her. Submit to her. 

'OH...OH...OHH...FUCK...FUCK...YES...TAKE MY PUSSY...TAKE MY PUSSY DEEP WITH YOUR BIG COCK! YES FOOTBOY...YES...FOOTBOY...TAKE MY PUSSY..TAKE MY TIGHT PUSSY! HAVE...YOU EVER..HAD PUSSY...LIKE THIS? HAVE YOU EVER HAD A...PUSSY LIKE THIS? THIS IS THE TIGHTEST...PUSSY YOU HAVE...EVER SEEN! THIS IS BRAZILIAN...GYM...PUSSY! MAKE MY PUSSY CUM FOOTBOY...MAKE MY LATINA PUSSY SQUIRT ALL OVER YOUR FOOTBOY COCK!'

That was Maryse barking orders at me in the real world, but I couldn't really hear her because I was lost in my own realm of sexual submission. In my submissive fantasy, the constant slip and sliding of Salima's pussy lips and ass crack from cock head to aching nut sack drove me past the point of no return. As her surprisingly strong fists remained clamped around my neck, my eyes watered and billions of shining white stars appeared in my field of vision. As gasps of hot air escaped my mouth; my hands shot out and grabbed her pert and ample breasts, squeezing them softly and submitting to their delicious weight.

I tried to tell her that I was going to cum but had no air in my lungs with which to do so. But it didn't matter; she knew exactly what was going on and in one smooth but agonising motion sat up and slammed her butt cheeks right down on my balls, literally flattening them against my pelvis and sending cum flying all over my chest, abs and face. 

'OH... YOU LIKE THIS BRAZILIAN PUSSY, DO YOU NOT?! THIS IS THE BEST PUSSY YOU HAVE EVER HAD! YOUR COCK LOVES MY PUSSY! YOUR COCK NEEDS MY PUSSY! BUT YOUR COCK DOES NOT GET TO CUM! MY PUSSY GETS TO CUM! MAKE MY PUSSY CUM, FOOTBOY!! MAKE MY SEXY TIGHT PUSSY SQUIRT! YOU WANT ME TO SIT ON YOUR FACE AGAIN, NO?! YOU WANT ME TO TIE MY PANTIES AROUND YOUR NECK AND MAKE YOU SNIFF MY BUTTHOLE, NO?! THEN MAKE MY PUSSY CUM!'

That was Maryse again, using her superior physique and unparalleled fitness to destroy my cock in the real world. In my internal world of fantasy, Salima had now taken my spent, cum splattered, but still rock hard cock and plunged it deep inside her pussy before fucking me hard and fast with everything she had. The pain was excruciating. Every last nerve ending from the shaft to the tip of my penis was screaming like it had been dipped in acid and I cried. I cried, begged and beseeched her to stop. I told her that she was too much for me and that my cock couldn't handle what she was doing, but she didn't care. She just laughed. She told me that she was confused. Perplexed. Flabbergasted. Concerned. She said that having my cock inside her was what we both knew I'd always wanted and asked why I would now complain considering I'd finally gotten my wish. She then had a brainwave and told me that she knew exactly what the problem was. She said that I was so turned on by having her rub her sexy, erotic and exotic body all over me that lust was clouding my brain. She told me she knew exactly how to cure me. She knew exactly what to do. She knew just how to level me out and have me appreciate the privileged position in which I found myself and that was to ignore my moans and carry on as normal. To fuck my cock harder than it had ever even dreamed it could be fucked until it sprayed its seed with more force than the after burner on a fighter jet.

'DO NOT DARE CUM, FOOTBOY! DO NOT DARE CUM. I KNOW HOW HARD IT IS! I KNOW HOW SEXY I AM BUT YOU MUST RESIST! YOU MUST RESIST AND GIVE MARYSE ORGASM! I GIVE YOU SO MUCH!! I GIVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH! I PUT MY SWEATY FEET ON YOUR FACE! I PUT MY WET SOCKS IN YOUR MOUTH! I SMOTHER YOU WITH MY FAT ASS AND MAKE YOU SMELL MY ASSHOLE! I BREAK YOUR BALLS! I BREAK YOUR FUCKING BALLS AND I MAKE YOU CUM SO FUCKING HARD IT CHANGE YOUR LIFE! BUT YOU GIVE ME NOTHING! YOU GIVE ME FUCKING NOTHING! I WANT ONE THING! GIVE ME ONE THING! GIVE ME ORGASM, YOU FUCKING LOSER! GIVE ME ORGASM!'

Just so we're clear, I was now effectively being assaulted by two beautiful women on four different fronts. In my dreamscape, Salima had her hands wrapped firmly around my neck and was choking me into a lightheaded state of ecstasy, and in the real world she had her soft and highly arched feet planted firmly on my face as she stepped on it with all her weight. In my dreamscape, she fucked me like a deranged succubus, laughing at my predicament and telling me exactly what she was going to do next; while in the real world Maryse used my cock to stab her g-spot repeatedly as she ordered me to not cum and give her the orgasm she desperately craved.

Well sadly for Maryse and also for my own self esteem, I was indeed going to cum and It was going to be explosive. Every time she told me not to ejaculate she made it harder and harder for me to think about anything else and when she reminded me of how deliciously she dominated me with her feet and ass earlier on in the day, my balls took that as a direct order to blast their load as far and wide as humanly possible. I just couldn't help myself. I couldn't hold it back. Between Maryse's vice-like pussy convulsing against the shaft of my cock as she bucked and grinded on it with the sexual stamina that only an elite athlete has, and the feel of Salima's fragrant feet stood full weight on my face as one man fucked her ass and another her mouth, I started to lose control. Between the sound of Maryse's sensual Brazilian accent screaming orders at me and the choking noises coming from Salima's throat as the beautiful stink of her sweaty toes filled the nostrils of my nose, I felt an urge to cum that no man would be strong enough to contain. An urge to cum that was raw, animalistic and primal. An urge to cum which in that moment had my mind joyfully accept the humiliation it experienced. 




This Time She's Gone Too Far



In that moment, I wasn't angry; not at all. I fact I rejoiced in the humiliation.

Accepted it. 

Found comfort in it. 

I truly became one with an urge to cum that I'd later find incredibly embarrassing but in that moment was simply mind blowing. My chest clenched, my throat heaved, my legs twitched, my arms locked and my mouth screamed 'YES!! OH FUCKING YES!!' as I sprayed my seed deep into Maryse's tight Brazilian fitness model cunt. I can only imagine her face as she looked down in dismay to see my cream coloured cum running out of her pussy and all over my cock and balls.

'OH...NO...DID YOU CUM?! YOU DO NOT GET TO CUM UNTIL I DO! YOU DO NOT GET TO CUM UNTIL I DO!! YOU FUCKING LOSER!! YOU FUCKING LOSER!! I HARDLY TOUCH IT!! I HARDLY TOUCH IT!! NO!! NO!! NOOOO!! YOU DO NOT CUM YET!! YOU DO NOT CUM YET!!'

And just like Salima had in my fantasy, Maryse carried on riding my spent but still rock hard dick while now beating the shit out of my chest in sheer sexual frustration. And; just like in my fantasy, the pain built in my crotch and my dick burned with the sweet agony of post ejaculatory torture as this sexy Brazilian bitch rode it like a furious force of nature. She kept increasing the speed, fucking me faster and faster and faster without ever getting tired. I know I said this before but it needs to be said again; her sexual stamina was out of this world and wasn't something that can properly be described with words. If you ever get the chance to fuck a really fit female athlete then grab that opportunity with both hands because the experience will be so mind blowing that your life will never be the same again. She was an insatiable demon of carnal ferocity and not only was I in agony but I was fucking terrified too.

I was moaning now. Well no, not moaning but crying out in pain. Crying out like a bitch out from under a mouth full of soft sweaty indian feet into a room full of people who just didn't give a shit. Every time I cried the whole room laughed and with every last giggle and chuckle a piece of my soul died. As Maryse pounded her tight, wet pussy into my aching but somehow still bulging cock, I felt the cheeks of her bulbous ass slamming into my testicles and had to grit my teeth to get through it.

Salima stepped her feet off my face and stood full weight on my fucking neck with one single sweaty indian foot using it to choke me even more dangerously than she had in my fantasy. I couldn't breathe. I actually couldn't take air into my lungs and as I fought for air, I closed my eyes and focused on simply making it out of there alive as I heard her purr something about denying my brain of oxygen to keep the blood pumping to my premature ejaculating foot-obsessed cock. Speaking of my premature ejaculating foot-obsessed cock, it was still engorged to bursting point and swollen to well past it's normal size so what she was doing was clearly working.

'WHY YOU ALWAYS CUM SO SOON? WHY?! WHY?! I SIT ON YOUR FACE, YOU CUM! I TOUCH YOUR BALLS, YOU CUM! YOU SMELL SALIMA'S FEET, YOU CUM! I FUCK YOU FOR ONE SECOND AND YOU CUM! ARE YOU VIRGIN?! IT IS LIKE YOU NEVER SEE PUSSY BEFORE!!'

Maryse continued to impale herself on my aching pole like a professional, slamming with force on the downward thrust to use her amazing butt to permanently reshape my balls, but gliding like silk all the way back up to the swollen purple head. If it was her intention to coax an already spent penis into spraying its seed yet again, she was well on the road to success.

'HE CUMS BECAUSE HE CAN'T HANDLE US. BECAUSE HE'S A FOOT AND ASS WORSHIPPING LOSER AND THAT'S ALL HE'LL EVER BE. I TOLD YOU IT WOULDN'T BE WORTH FUCKING HIM.' Said Salima; disdain firmly imprinted into every lustful syllable. I lay there awash in a sea of sexual agony and submission as the foot I'd spent so much time worshipping crushed my throat and the greatest ass I'd ever laid eyes on assaulted my balls while its owner fucked me like a demonic succubus. She attacked my cock with a mixture of sublime grace and raw power that made every nerve ending in the head tingle and it wasn't long before I realised was actually going to cum again. Despite everything they'd done to me and the countless times they'd made me blow my load in the space of only a few hours, my cock still wasn't finished. My pelvis began to jerk and shudder erratically under Maryse's pussy as my fingers contorted into a series of involuntary shapes and as that happened Salima laughed out loud and Maryse gave a primal roar. They'd obviously both noticed.

'FOOTBOY, YOU WILL NOT CUM AGAIN UNTIL I GIVE YOU PERMISSION! YOU WILL NOT CUM UNTIL I CUM FIRST! YOU WILL NOT CUM UNTIL AFTER I SQUIRT ON YOUR FOOTBOY DICK! DO YOU HEAR ME?!' Screamed Maryse; rage firmly etched into that sexy Brazilian accent. 

Did she actually not want me to cum or was she just fucking with my head? Surely she'd know that speaking to me like that, barking orders, and using that delicious accent to talk about squirting on my cock wasn't going to help matters? She was just making things worse for both of us.

'HE...HE'S GOT MY FOOT CRUSHING HIS THROAT! OF COURSE HE'S GOING TO CUM. HE CUMS...WHEN MY FEET GO NEAR HIM...HE CUMS WHEN HE THINKS HE MIGHT DIE...HE DOESN'T LIKE TO BREATHE...HE DOESN'T NEED OXYGEN... HE LIKES IT WHEN HIS LIFE'S IN DANGER.' 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Do you have any idea what it was like to be in this position? To have spent countless hours fantasising about the gorgeous feet of your beautiful colleague. To wonder what it would be like to be under them, to smell them, to taste them, to feel them all over your body and then to actually have that happen in real life? To have the object of your wildest fantasies grant you the very thing you've been dreaming about? To somehow find yourself laying underneath those divine objects of sexual fantasy as they slowly press down on your throat and send all the blood surging right to your cock?

'FOOTBOY! DO NOT DARE CUM FOR HER FOOT! I DO NOT CARE HOW SEXY IT IS AND HOW MUCH IT IS CHOKING YOU! DO NOT CUM FOR IT, DO YOU HEAR ME?! IF YOU WILL CUM FOR ANYTHING IT WILL BE FOR MY TIGHT PUSSY AND NOTHING ELSE BUT NOT UNTIL I GIVE YOU PERMISSION!'

To have that bloated cock of yours be attacked by the hottest fitness model you've you've ever laid eyes on? To be able to do nothing but gasp in awe at these two beautiful goddesses as they go to town on you? To look at their perfect bodies, gorgeous faces, and exotic complexions as they mistreated the way you secretly wished a woman would? To look into their eyes and see only contempt and disdain but know that it actually doesn't matter? That you're in the throes of a back breaking orgasm the likes of which far outweighs any notions you ever had of a silly thing like self respect? To know that they were right all along? That you were lucky to have them do this to you? That you're in the middle of a blissful sexual experience that most will only ever get to dream of? If not then I guess you probably never will.

'OH GOD! I'M CUMMING AGAIN! I'M CUMMING AGAIN!! OH FUCK!! OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK!! YES!! YES!! YES!! FUCK!! FUCK!! FUCKK!!' No, that wasn't Maryse this time, that was me. Choking to death under the sweaty, high arched, size five, soft, sweaty foot of an Indian goddess while her Brazilian friend fucked my cock and crushed the cum out of my leaking balls.

'OH NO...NO YOU DID NOT! YOU DID NOT! HE HAS CUMMED?! HE HAS CUMMED AGAIN!! BUT I HAVE NOT CUMMED!' That was Maryse.

'Awww look, his FOOTBOY dick is getting soft.'

'NO! NO! NO! KEEP YOUR DICK HARD!! KEEP YOUR FUCKING DICK HARD, FOOTBOY!'

'I don't think he has anything left. Poor footboy, we've been very hard on him today.'

'NO!'

'I told you my foot standing on his neck would make him cum.'

'NO! IT WAS MY PUSSY THAT MAKE HIM CUM!'

'Maryse, you're delusional, it clearly was my foot that sent him over the edge.'

'NO IT WASN'T!'

'Oh my God, he's passing out. Look at him, he's passing out.'

'STAY AWAKE, FOOTBOY!

'He's actually losing consciousness, what a loser. This is the second time in one day that we've made him pass out just from giving him a good time. Never in my life have I met a bigger pussy.'

'WAKE UP FOOTBOY! WAKE THE FUCK UP!'

'He's passed out, Maryse.'

'WAKE THE FUCK UP!!'

'Hold on, I've got an idea. Give me that big fucking dick, Marcus. Yeah, that's right, bring that bad boy over here. Oh yeah. Yeah. How do you like that, footboy? How do you like that? Maybe a nice creamy salt will fountain bring you back to the land of the living.'

'OH, OH SALIMA, YOU CANNOT!'

'Oh but I can. Come on Marcus, cum right now. Cum for me. Cum to my hand jerking that big, black cock and spray your seed all over footboy's face.'

I came as Marcus' cock sprayed thick wads of salty, sticky, disgusting cum all over my face, in my mouth and on my eyes in voluminous spurts. I didn't know what was going on at first but when I finally realised exactly what was happening, when the true terror of what they were doing to me became clear, I cried a scream of raw panic before hauling myself to my feet and running out of that apartment to a crescendo of laughter from all four evil fuckers in that room.

I ran at full pelt all the way home with what felt like broken ribs, sobbing like a humbled man as remnants of a black man's drying cum stuck to my face and merged with Maryse and Salima's pungent ass, foot and spit juices to create a dark and unholy trinity of sexual stench. You'll probably be surprised to hear that when I got home I didn't even make it to the shower but I just didn't have the necessary strength to take those extra steps. You know, to get soap, take my clothes off, set the temperature and wait for the thing to heat up before stepping into it. It was all too much and I just didn't have it in me to do anything remotely normal or ordinary. 

The second I got through my front door, I collapsed into the foetal position and cried for hours. And I'm not exaggerating there; I actually cried on the floor for fucking hours, bawling into my carpet until it was dripping wet and my eyes were bloodshot. But just so we're clear, let me tell you right now that I wasn't crying because I was upset, or hurt or any of the other reasons you might expect. No. No. That wasn't the reason at all. I didn't cry because that bitch had humiliated me for the umpteenth time and I needed to console myself. I didn't cry from the sheer pain of what my life had become, a humiliated, jobless freak show in which my whole friends and family had seen me beg to worship feet on Facebook, and I didn't cry because I had another man's drying cum coating my teary eyeballs. I cried because in that moment I knew what I was going to do; what I had to do, and I also knew exactly where it would take me. I cried in that moment because I was about to do terrible things with fatal consequences and I knew that the landscape of my life would be irreparably ruined after I'd finally done what absolutely needed to be done.

There could and would be no going back. There was no other course of action to be taken. This was it. This was what I needed to do. This would be my final solution. I was going to exact a revenge so brutal, so hellish, so insanely evil on that bitch that the screams I caused to erupt from her very soul would echo throughout the ages and across all eternity. She'd fucked with me one too many times and now this was it. This was the end. It was time to pay the piper. It was time for fucking revenge.

I had to kill her. I was going to kill the bitch.