Trio For Three Voices Part Four
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Trio For Three Voices. Part Three. free porn video
TRIO PART THREE. The ‘dungeon’ and some fun before dinner.
Mistress Agnes.
When Sherri made her entrance, I could see that Marie was surprised but not shocked. I loved Sherri in that outfit with the apron as a small hint of health and safety that simply made her look even sexier. Marie and I both had a bit of fun examining and fondling Sherri’s bottom before I sent her off.
We discussed what had happened in the week and Marie seemed genuinely to have enjoyed herself. I got the impression that it wasn’t just the thought of the lifestyle that had excited her but her first taste of another woman’s body under her hands.
I gave her the usual tour and we ended up in the dining room. I was hoping she’d ask first but, as she didn’t, so I brought up the subject of the dungeon.
When I first opened the door, she walked in calmly but then stopped still, frozen to the spot. I gave her a couple of minutes before I took the other key and walked past her to the cupboard. I unlocked it and opened the doors wide. Almost in a trance she came over and looked inside. Although it looked a little like a wardrobe the inside was a tier of shelves. Neatly arranged on them was my full collection of toys.
“I’m sure you recognise many of these from your hours spent on the internet.”
I swept my hand along a row of vibrators neatly arranged according to size. “I’m sure you have one or more of these at home.”
She blushed and nodded. “And these,” I asked indicating a row of silicone or glass dildoes. Again, she nodded. I picked up a medium-sized butt plug and held it out to her. “And this?”
“I … I know what it is, but I’ve never used one. It looks really big,” she said nervously.
“Don’t worry,” I said trying to ease her worries, “That one’s not for novices. I always start people off on this one.” I picked up the smallest of my plugs, a sweet little thing in hard black plastic, barely an inch in diameter. Even that one brought a look of alarm to her face.
Smiling to myself I turned and placed it back on its shelf and picked up one of the floggers. It was a thing of beauty and craftsmanship. Made of black leather with twenty strands and a solid handle covered with neatly plaited leather.
“Now this I’m sure you recognise. After all you have been caring for the effects of its kiss all week.”
“Oh, is that the …” she stammered her attention suddenly on the item in my hand.
“The very one,” I said and smiled while giving it a couple of swishes through the air in front of her.
“I’ve seen pictures but never …” her voice trailed off.
I reversed my grip on the handle and held it out to her. nervously she took it from me and gently swung the tails back and forth. I moved to one side and pointed at the leather horse.
“Why not try it out,” I suggested.
She blushed but stepped forward. She hesitated before lifting her arm and swinging the flogger down almost tenderly on the leather of the horse. She glanced back at me, a half-smile on her face.
“Harder,” I encouraged her, “I think my horse can take more than that.”
She swung again, harder this time and made a satisfying crack on the leather. Another glance at me and I nodded approvingly. She swung it several more times, each being bolder and harder than the last. A broad smile formed as she did so. I was surprised at the end how much force she managed to put into it.
“For someone so small you have an amazing arm,” I complimented her, “there is only one problem. You don’t really know your own strength.”
I held out my hand and she passed the flogger back to me. She was still beaming but her look slowly change to a puzzled expression.
“Let’s try a little experiment,” I suggested, and I place my hand on the small of her back redirecting her attention to the horse, “just bend over that for a moment.”
I felt a tremor run through her, but I guessed she knew she had little choice. She probably knew a moment like this would come at some point over the weekend. Looking back at me, her face full of fear and doubt, she slowly bent over the horse.
“Good girl,” I said and stroked her back, “don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you the first time, but you have to learn what the flogger’s kiss feels like.”
She didn’t move when I slipped my hand from the small of her back and across her buttocks and took the hem of her dress and lifted it up. Her cheeks were pristine and unblemished and had a lovely overall tan that contrasted nicely with the narrow green string of her thong. I stepped back and let the moment linger and was pleased to see she remained completely still. My first blow was as gentle as I could make it, almost a caress, but she jumped nonetheless. She did, however, stay d****d over the horse. I struck again, harder this time, and I heard an intake of breath. A third strike, a little harder still, gained the first tiny yelp. On the fourth and fifth her yelps became louder and the sixth was rewarded with a loud “Oh Fuck!” She started to stand upright but my hand on her back told her to stay still.
“No more flogger, I promise,” I said softly, “but I want to try one more thing before dinner.”
I put the flogger back in the cupboard and picked up the small butt plug I had shown her earlier. I coated it liberally with lube and turned back to her. Her cheeks were now visibly red, and I stroked them gently before pulling her thong to one side a revealing her pretty little anus. I stroked it with a lubed finger and she shuddered under my touch but obediently stayed in her place. I placed the tip of the plug against her hole and pushed very gently. She tensed up at the sudden intrusion.
“Relax,” I told her, “it’s only the smallest one.”
My comforting words seemed to have little effect, but I continued to press the plug home. I was being deliberately slow in doing so, wanting her to savour and enjoy the whole process. I watched as the fattest part slowly opened her and then suddenly disappeared inside. I neatly replaced the cord of her thong across the centre of the plug base and then stood back to admire her. What a transformation! Five minutes ago, she had shown me a perfect suntanned bottom and now it was a lovely pink, crossed with a wealth of narrow welts and in its centre the black base of the plug showed itself proudly. It was with regret that I lowered the hem of her dress down to cover it and took her hand to help her stand upright. She looked at me with a face that was a mix of emotions.
“You’ve been a very good girl,” I said, smiling at her, “how do you feel?”
“I … I … really don’t know,” she answered honestly.
I pointed to the other side of the door where a full-length mirror hung on the wall.
“Why not have a look,” I suggested, “I think you look even lovelier than before.”
**
Marie.
When Agnes opened the cupboard, I couldn’t see inside from where I was standing so I moved closer and looked in. It was like a display from a sex shop. There were shelves all the way up, and they were stacked with goodies. I knew what some were straight away and recognised others from when I’d browsed sex shop sites, but there were other things that I could only hazard a guess at.
She smiled at me and took out a vibrator. She guessed I had one of them at home and I nodded shyly. I think I also blushed as mine was identical to the one she’d picked out, the one I carefully hid from my mother in a box under the bed. She showed me a couple of dildos, one of which was beautifully crafted in glass and which I knew to be quite expensive. The next thing she held up scared the life out of me. I’d seen all about butt plugs but this one, to me, looked huge although when I glanced in the cupboard I could see even bigger ones on display.
I managed to stammer out something and she grinned. She picked up another one which she assured me was her smallest one although it still looked very scary to my eyes.
I was relieved when she put it away and picked up another item. I was back on familiar ground again. It was a flogger, and not just any old flogger, but the one used on Sherri last weekend, the one whose effect I had been caring for all week. When she passed it to me I felt a strange tingle. It was a lovely thing and the plaited handle felt good in my hand. I swung it back and forth a few times getting the feel of it. Then she invited me to try it out on the horse.
Oh, what a thrill! To start with I was a bit nervous and gentle but at her prompting I started to lose my inhibitions. Each blow came harder and my arm felt a new strength. I stopped because I was beginning to get seriously aroused and my panties were too small to absorb much. I was stronger than I looked she told me and then the moment came that I had both dreaded and looked forward to. It was my time to feel the flogger for the first time.
I could have just said no but part of me wanted to find out what it felt like. What led a girl like Sherri to actually want it? I knew I couldn’t deny myself the experience, so, in answer to the insistent prompting of her hand on my back, I dutifully bent over the horse. I felt very vulnerable when she lifted up my dress and exposed my bottom. The wait for the first blow was torture and when it came I jumped. It didn’t really hurt, just a slight sting, but I had the suspicion that worse was to come. And I was right. Each blow that followed was harder than the one before. The last, the hardest of all, made me swear out loud. Then there was nothing except silence. My bum stung like mad and I nearly started crying. I began to straighten up thinking my ordeal was over but her hand on my back pushed me down again. Obviously, we weren’t finished yet.
I waited for what seemed an age before I felt a hand on my bottom again. My thong was pulled to one side and a slippery finger slid between my cheeks and started stroking my arsehole. I suddenly realised what was about to happen. I was going to be plugged. Determined not to move, my only thought was that it would be the smallest one but even that one scared me. I felt something start to enter me. I’d used a finger on myself before, but my hands were only tiny, this thing just kept getting bigger and bigger. I tried to relax but it wasn’t easy. Just as I thought I would tear apart the agony stopped. There was still something there, I could feel it inside me, but the painful stretching had stopped. My thong was put back in place and my dress pulled back down and with Agnes’s help I stood up and she invited me to check myself out in the mirror by the door.
I was almost too scared to look but, in the end, curiosity got the better of me. Standing with my back to the mirror and looking over my shoulder I slowly lifted the hem of my dress. I found a sight familiar to me from the past week. Although by no means as extensive as Sherri’s had been there was still the pinkness. Running a hand across it I felt the familiar ripples where the strands of the flogger had bitten into me. I was surprised at how warm it felt this soon after the event. What made mine different to Sherri’s was the black circle of the plug that had been planted in my bottom, neatly bisected by the thin string of my thong.
“Pleased with the result?” she asked me.
I was still confused so I replied, “I’m not sure what I think yet.”
She came over and put her arms round me and together we gazed into the mirror. I knew then that an act such as this was one of affection and I almost cried.
“Thank you,” I managed to say, and she kissed me on the forehead.
She stood back and took my hand. “Let me show you my special chair,” she said and led me over. “What do you think of it?” she asked.
“It doesn’t look very comfy,” I admitted.
“It’s not designed to be,” she replied, “but it has some very special features. Let me show you. Why don’t you sit down?”
It looked hard and unwelcoming but not dangerous, so I sat down. It certainly wasn’t friendly to my bruised bottom and the hard seat pressed against the base of the plug making me feel even more aware of it. She explained that the chair was made to her own design and its purpose was to restrain the sitter. As she was talking she went down on one knee and I felt something soft go round one of my ankles and become tight. Before I could protest my other ankle was quickly fastened. My feet were trapped. She stood up again. Between my thighs were two sets of catches the same as are used for car seat belts. I very quickly found out why they were there. Wide straps came over just above my knees and clicked into place and were then tightened. She pushed my dress up my thighs and another pair of straps went over just below my pussy. I was beginning to get nervous again. Nervous but also excited.
She told me to put my hands up over my head. I did so, and a pair of leather cuffs were wrapped around them. When I tried to lower my arms, I found I couldn’t. She then slowly wound a crank that stuck out of the back of the chair and my arms were slowly hoisted up until I was quite tightly stretched.
“Now for the best bit,” she said, thoroughly enjoying herself at my expense.
There was another crank coming from the side of the seat which she started to wind slowly. It took me a while to realise what was happening. The seat was being split in two to form a V shape and my legs were being forced apart. Slowly my thighs were forced further and further apart and as they did so my dress was forced higher and higher until the tiny triangle of my thong was clearly visible. So too were damp patches on the fabric and even on the tops of my thighs. I was hoping that Agnes wouldn’t notice but it was a vain hope. She stopped winding the crank even though I guessed there was still more available. I sat there, unable to move and totally exposed to her gaze.
“I can see that your time in this room has quite excited you, little Marie,” she taunted, and I blushed deep red. She reached down and stroked the front of my thong and there was nothing I could do to stop her. But I didn’t want her to stop. I craved her touch. “You’re very wet, my dear,” she said.
I tried to reply but when her hand slipped inside my thong and touched my pussy I nearly came right there and then. It was the thought that she wouldn’t approve that stopped me.
“And neatly hairless as well. I like a naked cunt,” and she slipped a finger inside me. I was struggling to retain my sanity and I moaned involuntarily. “Does little Marie want to cum?” she asked.
I couldn’t trust my voice, so I nodded my head and pleaded with my eyes.
“Not good enough, I want to hear you say it.”
It took nearly all my willpower, but I managed to whisper, “please.”
“Please Miss Agnes, may I cum,” she demanded of me as a second finger went into me.
I took a deep breath and tried my best. What came out was almost inaudible and barely intelligible, but she decided to look favourably on my feeble attempt.
“Well done, girl,” she said after a delay, “yes, you may.”
And I did. Oh, wow, did I, all over her hand and all over my thighs. My thong was a sodden scrap. It seemed to go on and on and reality blurred. I sensed her fingers slowly coming out of me and she wiped her hand on my dress. I didn’t care. I was so happy.
Slowly I came back to normal. Instead of feeling dirty and ashamed I felt joyous. My arms were lowered, and my wrists released. The straps came off my thighs and ankles and I slumped in the chair. As my thoughts cleared the sting in my bottom and the harsh feeling of the plug came to the fore once more. I looked over and she was locking the cupboard. For the time being my time in this room was over. I stood up, a little shakily and walked over to her. Every step made me conscious of the plug and the wet feeling of the thong between my legs.
My voice had come back, and I felt I had to say something. “Thank you, Miss Agnes,” was all I could manage but it brought a smile from her. She led the way out of the room, locking the door behind her.
“It must be almost time for dinner. I’m going to wash my hands first then I’ll find out when it will be. I’ll be right back.”
“May I also use your …”
I was cut off abruptly. “No, I want you like that for now. Wait here.”
**
Sherri.
It was lovely to see Marie. She looked really pretty in her green frock and heels. It was a bit embarrassing when Mistress showed me off to her, making me turn around and display my bottom. It was almost back to normal with hardly a mark on it thanks to Marie’s care and attention during the week. I’d wondered what she would make of me working naked in the kitchen, but she didn’t bat an eyelid and seemed to take it as the natural course of events.
I was glad to be dismissed and, as soon as I had served the wine, I went back to the kitchen. There was little else to do as most needed cooking just before serving but I knew that Mistress wanted some time alone with Marie. I was still puzzled about Marie’s interest in us, but I must have said something for Mistress to have invited her. Throughout the week Marie had been very dominating in her dealings with me but I was worried how she would cope when she met Mistress.
I guessed that she planned to show her round and that the ‘dungeon’ would be part of that tour. We call it the dungeon more as a joke because a room less dungeon-like would be hard to imagine. Mistress hated the internet clichés of dark, dingy and forbidding rooms and ours was painted white and had a window that faced onto the back garden. It was only made sinister by the equipment in there. I wondered what Marie would make of it. Would she be disappointed? What was she expecting? I knew she had been watching videos so probably had an idea what a ‘proper’ dungeon should look like.
I heard them go upstairs and then, a short while later, come back down. Then their voices grew fainter and I guessed they had gone into the dining room and on to the room beyond. It seemed like forever before I heard their voices again, albeit briefly.
And then, “Sherri,” I heard Mistress call, “come here for a moment.”
Luckily, I had finished my prep ages ago and was filling in my time before the final flurry of cooking dinner started. I left the kitchen and went across to the dining room and what I saw there came as something of a shock. Mistress sat in her usual seat at the head of the table while Marie stood to one side. Her eyes were firmly fixed on the floor and she was blushing bright red. I glanced down, and she was in something of a mess. The front of her frock was all crumpled and her thighs were streaked with runnels of moisture. When she looked up at me she seemed to have been crying.
“Marie and I have been having fun in the dungeon,” announced Mistress, “I introduced her to the delights of the chair.” Marie blushed even more and looked away at anywhere but me. “Unfortunately,” continued Mistress, “she’s very messy when she cums. She needs cleaning up a bit before dinner, don’t you think?”
I looked at Mistress and I knew what she was asking of me. I walked up to Marie and knelt in front of her. The floor was hard under my knees, but I ignored that. The front of Marie’s dress was covered in damp patches and, as I lifted it, I smelled the heady scent of her orgasm. Her thong was tiny and dark with her juices. I leaned forward and started to clean her thighs with my tongue. She tasted wonderful and I was in heaven ministering to her. I was repaying her for all the kindness she’d shown me during the week. I cleaned her as best I could, even trying to suck the moisture from her thong.
“Well done Sherri,” Mistress interrupted my attempts, “doesn’t she taste lovely?”
I sat back on my heels, “Yes, Mistress, delicious,” I replied, happy to tell the truth.
Then she turned to Marie, “turn around, Marie, and lift your dress. Let Sherri see the result of our fun and games.”
Marie gave me a shy smile and slowly turned around. She lifted the frock up and showed me her bottom. From my kneeling position it was at eye-level and I was pleased to see she had tasted the flogger! It looked lovely and I was a little bit jealous although it was obvious that Mistress had gone easy on her. I was even more jealous when I saw the black disc between her cheeks. Mistress had even made her wear a plug! I hadn’t been allowed the feel of one for what seemed like ages.
“I think she enjoyed discovering what a flogger feels like. And the delights of her first plug,” Mistress said.
“I’m glad you both enjoyed yourselves, Mistress,” I said.
“You’d better get back to dinner. Will it be long?”
“About fifteen minutes, Mistress.”
“Good, but bring a towel first. I don’t want our guest making a mess all over the seat when she sits down to eat.”
“Right away, Mistress,” and I stood up and left. I was a seething mixture of emotions; happy that I had pleased Mistress but jealous that Marie not only had a plug but that she had been allowed an orgasm. It seemed forever since I’d last had one and between Mistress and Marie I’d been kept on edge for ages.
**
Mistress Agnes.
I deliberately left Marie in a mess as I went up and reluctantly washed my hands. I love the smell and taste of another woman and was sorry to wash it off, but I had a standard to maintain. When I went back down she was still standing where I’d left her, and she looked up at me with a puzzled look on her face. I was delighted as I wanted to keep her off-guard, uncertain of her real role. I thought I’d add a little more confusion into the mix and called Sherri. I made her kneel in front of Marie and clean her with her tongue. I knew how experienced that tongue was and that being serviced like that would confuse Marie even more. In the space of an hour she had gone from a reluctant plaything of mine, being subject to a flogging and her first feel of a butt plug, to a more willing participant in the chair and being rewarded with a massive orgasm. Now I offered her a taste of being served by another woman.
At first, she seemed shy and embarrassed and tried to look away, but Sherri’s tongue worked its magic as it always did, and her face changed slowly to one of pleasure. At one point she moved slightly and placed her feet further apart. I could sense she was becoming aroused again. It would be difficult not to with Sherri’s tongue licking and probing her. Eventually I had to stop things before they got out of hand and made Marie turn around and display her bottom for Sherri to look at. I knew Sherri would not be very pleased as, not only had she been refused an orgasm for over a week but had also been denied a butt plug, something I knew she loved and looked forward to.
I sent her off to fetch a towel so that Marie could sit down without spoiling the furniture. I’d only recently had them re-upholstered and didn’t want them all messed up. While we waited for dinner we chatted about this and that, carefully avoiding the ‘elephant in the room’. She still lived at home I discovered but her parents allowed her plenty of freedom to come and go as she pleased. She’d had a variety of dalliances with both genders and although she didn’t mind men she preferred women. She’d had little experience recently and her time with Sherri during the week was the most intimate she’d been with anyone for months. I discovered also that she was easy to make blush, which I found charming, and I spent most of the time trying to make her do so.
Sherri finally came in and announced that dinner was ready. She arrived carrying two plates and put them in front of Marie and me. I was sat at the head of the table and I’d put Marie to my right. Another place had been set to my left. I had decided that Sherri could eat with us this evening. Usually she eats kneeling on the floor, but I was feeling magnanimous today. She returned with a third plate and I told her to come and join us. The little apron had gone and now she was completely naked. With no sense of awkwardness, she came and joined us at the table.
The food was, as I had expected it, delicious. Sherri truly was very clever in the kitchen as well as the dungeon. The fish was cooked perfectly as always and the vegetables that came with it were just right and the sauce was to die for. Throughout the meal we chatted more and even Sherri joined in. Dessert was equally as good, and, at the end, I complimented her on her skill. I told her not to bother with the washing up.
“I’m sure Marie is anxious to enjoy more of the delights that the ‘dungeon’ has to offer. Why don’t you clear the plates and then come and join us.”
She walked round the table collecting everything and headed off to the kitchen, her bottom jiggling as she walked. She knew that she was in for a fun time unlike Marie who didn’t know what I had planned for her. Nevertheless, when I stood up and walked over and unlocked the door she dutifully followed me into the room. Sherri followed a moment or two later.
I turned to Marie, “I think we’ll have Sherri on the cross to start with. Can you do that for me, Marie?”
The familiar look of confusion flitted across her face, but she recovered quickly.
“Certainly, Miss Agnes,” she replied. Then, she took me by surprise. “Do you want her back or front to us, Miss?” she asked. She’d either worked out or seen on the internet how the cross was used. But what else surprised me even more was her use of the word ‘us’. I kept my concentration on things in the cupboard to mask my pleasure.
“I think we’ll start with her back.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Mistress Agnes.
When Sherri made her entrance, I could see that Marie was surprised but not shocked. I loved Sherri in that outfit with the apron as a small hint of health and safety that simply made her look even sexier. Marie and I both had a bit of fun examining and fondling Sherri’s bottom before I sent her off.
We discussed what had happened in the week and Marie seemed genuinely to have enjoyed herself. I got the impression that it wasn’t just the thought of the lifestyle that had excited her but her first taste of another woman’s body under her hands.
I gave her the usual tour and we ended up in the dining room. I was hoping she’d ask first but, as she didn’t, so I brought up the subject of the dungeon.
When I first opened the door, she walked in calmly but then stopped still, frozen to the spot. I gave her a couple of minutes before I took the other key and walked past her to the cupboard. I unlocked it and opened the doors wide. Almost in a trance she came over and looked inside. Although it looked a little like a wardrobe the inside was a tier of shelves. Neatly arranged on them was my full collection of toys.
“I’m sure you recognise many of these from your hours spent on the internet.”
I swept my hand along a row of vibrators neatly arranged according to size. “I’m sure you have one or more of these at home.”
She blushed and nodded. “And these,” I asked indicating a row of silicone or glass dildoes. Again, she nodded. I picked up a medium-sized butt plug and held it out to her. “And this?”
“I … I know what it is, but I’ve never used one. It looks really big,” she said nervously.
“Don’t worry,” I said trying to ease her worries, “That one’s not for novices. I always start people off on this one.” I picked up the smallest of my plugs, a sweet little thing in hard black plastic, barely an inch in diameter. Even that one brought a look of alarm to her face.
Smiling to myself I turned and placed it back on its shelf and picked up one of the floggers. It was a thing of beauty and craftsmanship. Made of black leather with twenty strands and a solid handle covered with neatly plaited leather.
“Now this I’m sure you recognise. After all you have been caring for the effects of its kiss all week.”
“Oh, is that the …” she stammered her attention suddenly on the item in my hand.
“The very one,” I said and smiled while giving it a couple of swishes through the air in front of her.
“I’ve seen pictures but never …” her voice trailed off.
I reversed my grip on the handle and held it out to her. nervously she took it from me and gently swung the tails back and forth. I moved to one side and pointed at the leather horse.
“Why not try it out,” I suggested.
She blushed but stepped forward. She hesitated before lifting her arm and swinging the flogger down almost tenderly on the leather of the horse. She glanced back at me, a half-smile on her face.
“Harder,” I encouraged her, “I think my horse can take more than that.”
She swung again, harder this time and made a satisfying crack on the leather. Another glance at me and I nodded approvingly. She swung it several more times, each being bolder and harder than the last. A broad smile formed as she did so. I was surprised at the end how much force she managed to put into it.
“For someone so small you have an amazing arm,” I complimented her, “there is only one problem. You don’t really know your own strength.”
I held out my hand and she passed the flogger back to me. She was still beaming but her look slowly change to a puzzled expression.
“Let’s try a little experiment,” I suggested, and I place my hand on the small of her back redirecting her attention to the horse, “just bend over that for a moment.”
I felt a tremor run through her, but I guessed she knew she had little choice. She probably knew a moment like this would come at some point over the weekend. Looking back at me, her face full of fear and doubt, she slowly bent over the horse.
“Good girl,” I said and stroked her back, “don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you the first time, but you have to learn what the flogger’s kiss feels like.”
She didn’t move when I slipped my hand from the small of her back and across her buttocks and took the hem of her dress and lifted it up. Her cheeks were pristine and unblemished and had a lovely overall tan that contrasted nicely with the narrow green string of her thong. I stepped back and let the moment linger and was pleased to see she remained completely still. My first blow was as gentle as I could make it, almost a caress, but she jumped nonetheless. She did, however, stay d****d over the horse. I struck again, harder this time, and I heard an intake of breath. A third strike, a little harder still, gained the first tiny yelp. On the fourth and fifth her yelps became louder and the sixth was rewarded with a loud “Oh Fuck!” She started to stand upright but my hand on her back told her to stay still.
“No more flogger, I promise,” I said softly, “but I want to try one more thing before dinner.”
I put the flogger back in the cupboard and picked up the small butt plug I had shown her earlier. I coated it liberally with lube and turned back to her. Her cheeks were now visibly red, and I stroked them gently before pulling her thong to one side a revealing her pretty little anus. I stroked it with a lubed finger and she shuddered under my touch but obediently stayed in her place. I placed the tip of the plug against her hole and pushed very gently. She tensed up at the sudden intrusion.
“Relax,” I told her, “it’s only the smallest one.”
My comforting words seemed to have little effect, but I continued to press the plug home. I was being deliberately slow in doing so, wanting her to savour and enjoy the whole process. I watched as the fattest part slowly opened her and then suddenly disappeared inside. I neatly replaced the cord of her thong across the centre of the plug base and then stood back to admire her. What a transformation! Five minutes ago, she had shown me a perfect suntanned bottom and now it was a lovely pink, crossed with a wealth of narrow welts and in its centre the black base of the plug showed itself proudly. It was with regret that I lowered the hem of her dress down to cover it and took her hand to help her stand upright. She looked at me with a face that was a mix of emotions.
“You’ve been a very good girl,” I said, smiling at her, “how do you feel?”
“I … I … really don’t know,” she answered honestly.
I pointed to the other side of the door where a full-length mirror hung on the wall.
“Why not have a look,” I suggested, “I think you look even lovelier than before.”
**
Marie.
When Agnes opened the cupboard, I couldn’t see inside from where I was standing so I moved closer and looked in. It was like a display from a sex shop. There were shelves all the way up, and they were stacked with goodies. I knew what some were straight away and recognised others from when I’d browsed sex shop sites, but there were other things that I could only hazard a guess at.
She smiled at me and took out a vibrator. She guessed I had one of them at home and I nodded shyly. I think I also blushed as mine was identical to the one she’d picked out, the one I carefully hid from my mother in a box under the bed. She showed me a couple of dildos, one of which was beautifully crafted in glass and which I knew to be quite expensive. The next thing she held up scared the life out of me. I’d seen all about butt plugs but this one, to me, looked huge although when I glanced in the cupboard I could see even bigger ones on display.
I managed to stammer out something and she grinned. She picked up another one which she assured me was her smallest one although it still looked very scary to my eyes.
I was relieved when she put it away and picked up another item. I was back on familiar ground again. It was a flogger, and not just any old flogger, but the one used on Sherri last weekend, the one whose effect I had been caring for all week. When she passed it to me I felt a strange tingle. It was a lovely thing and the plaited handle felt good in my hand. I swung it back and forth a few times getting the feel of it. Then she invited me to try it out on the horse.
Oh, what a thrill! To start with I was a bit nervous and gentle but at her prompting I started to lose my inhibitions. Each blow came harder and my arm felt a new strength. I stopped because I was beginning to get seriously aroused and my panties were too small to absorb much. I was stronger than I looked she told me and then the moment came that I had both dreaded and looked forward to. It was my time to feel the flogger for the first time.
I could have just said no but part of me wanted to find out what it felt like. What led a girl like Sherri to actually want it? I knew I couldn’t deny myself the experience, so, in answer to the insistent prompting of her hand on my back, I dutifully bent over the horse. I felt very vulnerable when she lifted up my dress and exposed my bottom. The wait for the first blow was torture and when it came I jumped. It didn’t really hurt, just a slight sting, but I had the suspicion that worse was to come. And I was right. Each blow that followed was harder than the one before. The last, the hardest of all, made me swear out loud. Then there was nothing except silence. My bum stung like mad and I nearly started crying. I began to straighten up thinking my ordeal was over but her hand on my back pushed me down again. Obviously, we weren’t finished yet.
I waited for what seemed an age before I felt a hand on my bottom again. My thong was pulled to one side and a slippery finger slid between my cheeks and started stroking my arsehole. I suddenly realised what was about to happen. I was going to be plugged. Determined not to move, my only thought was that it would be the smallest one but even that one scared me. I felt something start to enter me. I’d used a finger on myself before, but my hands were only tiny, this thing just kept getting bigger and bigger. I tried to relax but it wasn’t easy. Just as I thought I would tear apart the agony stopped. There was still something there, I could feel it inside me, but the painful stretching had stopped. My thong was put back in place and my dress pulled back down and with Agnes’s help I stood up and she invited me to check myself out in the mirror by the door.
I was almost too scared to look but, in the end, curiosity got the better of me. Standing with my back to the mirror and looking over my shoulder I slowly lifted the hem of my dress. I found a sight familiar to me from the past week. Although by no means as extensive as Sherri’s had been there was still the pinkness. Running a hand across it I felt the familiar ripples where the strands of the flogger had bitten into me. I was surprised at how warm it felt this soon after the event. What made mine different to Sherri’s was the black circle of the plug that had been planted in my bottom, neatly bisected by the thin string of my thong.
“Pleased with the result?” she asked me.
I was still confused so I replied, “I’m not sure what I think yet.”
She came over and put her arms round me and together we gazed into the mirror. I knew then that an act such as this was one of affection and I almost cried.
“Thank you,” I managed to say, and she kissed me on the forehead.
She stood back and took my hand. “Let me show you my special chair,” she said and led me over. “What do you think of it?” she asked.
“It doesn’t look very comfy,” I admitted.
“It’s not designed to be,” she replied, “but it has some very special features. Let me show you. Why don’t you sit down?”
It looked hard and unwelcoming but not dangerous, so I sat down. It certainly wasn’t friendly to my bruised bottom and the hard seat pressed against the base of the plug making me feel even more aware of it. She explained that the chair was made to her own design and its purpose was to restrain the sitter. As she was talking she went down on one knee and I felt something soft go round one of my ankles and become tight. Before I could protest my other ankle was quickly fastened. My feet were trapped. She stood up again. Between my thighs were two sets of catches the same as are used for car seat belts. I very quickly found out why they were there. Wide straps came over just above my knees and clicked into place and were then tightened. She pushed my dress up my thighs and another pair of straps went over just below my pussy. I was beginning to get nervous again. Nervous but also excited.
She told me to put my hands up over my head. I did so, and a pair of leather cuffs were wrapped around them. When I tried to lower my arms, I found I couldn’t. She then slowly wound a crank that stuck out of the back of the chair and my arms were slowly hoisted up until I was quite tightly stretched.
“Now for the best bit,” she said, thoroughly enjoying herself at my expense.
There was another crank coming from the side of the seat which she started to wind slowly. It took me a while to realise what was happening. The seat was being split in two to form a V shape and my legs were being forced apart. Slowly my thighs were forced further and further apart and as they did so my dress was forced higher and higher until the tiny triangle of my thong was clearly visible. So too were damp patches on the fabric and even on the tops of my thighs. I was hoping that Agnes wouldn’t notice but it was a vain hope. She stopped winding the crank even though I guessed there was still more available. I sat there, unable to move and totally exposed to her gaze.
“I can see that your time in this room has quite excited you, little Marie,” she taunted, and I blushed deep red. She reached down and stroked the front of my thong and there was nothing I could do to stop her. But I didn’t want her to stop. I craved her touch. “You’re very wet, my dear,” she said.
I tried to reply but when her hand slipped inside my thong and touched my pussy I nearly came right there and then. It was the thought that she wouldn’t approve that stopped me.
“And neatly hairless as well. I like a naked cunt,” and she slipped a finger inside me. I was struggling to retain my sanity and I moaned involuntarily. “Does little Marie want to cum?” she asked.
I couldn’t trust my voice, so I nodded my head and pleaded with my eyes.
“Not good enough, I want to hear you say it.”
It took nearly all my willpower, but I managed to whisper, “please.”
“Please Miss Agnes, may I cum,” she demanded of me as a second finger went into me.
I took a deep breath and tried my best. What came out was almost inaudible and barely intelligible, but she decided to look favourably on my feeble attempt.
“Well done, girl,” she said after a delay, “yes, you may.”
And I did. Oh, wow, did I, all over her hand and all over my thighs. My thong was a sodden scrap. It seemed to go on and on and reality blurred. I sensed her fingers slowly coming out of me and she wiped her hand on my dress. I didn’t care. I was so happy.
Slowly I came back to normal. Instead of feeling dirty and ashamed I felt joyous. My arms were lowered, and my wrists released. The straps came off my thighs and ankles and I slumped in the chair. As my thoughts cleared the sting in my bottom and the harsh feeling of the plug came to the fore once more. I looked over and she was locking the cupboard. For the time being my time in this room was over. I stood up, a little shakily and walked over to her. Every step made me conscious of the plug and the wet feeling of the thong between my legs.
My voice had come back, and I felt I had to say something. “Thank you, Miss Agnes,” was all I could manage but it brought a smile from her. She led the way out of the room, locking the door behind her.
“It must be almost time for dinner. I’m going to wash my hands first then I’ll find out when it will be. I’ll be right back.”
“May I also use your …”
I was cut off abruptly. “No, I want you like that for now. Wait here.”
**
Sherri.
It was lovely to see Marie. She looked really pretty in her green frock and heels. It was a bit embarrassing when Mistress showed me off to her, making me turn around and display my bottom. It was almost back to normal with hardly a mark on it thanks to Marie’s care and attention during the week. I’d wondered what she would make of me working naked in the kitchen, but she didn’t bat an eyelid and seemed to take it as the natural course of events.
I was glad to be dismissed and, as soon as I had served the wine, I went back to the kitchen. There was little else to do as most needed cooking just before serving but I knew that Mistress wanted some time alone with Marie. I was still puzzled about Marie’s interest in us, but I must have said something for Mistress to have invited her. Throughout the week Marie had been very dominating in her dealings with me but I was worried how she would cope when she met Mistress.
I guessed that she planned to show her round and that the ‘dungeon’ would be part of that tour. We call it the dungeon more as a joke because a room less dungeon-like would be hard to imagine. Mistress hated the internet clichés of dark, dingy and forbidding rooms and ours was painted white and had a window that faced onto the back garden. It was only made sinister by the equipment in there. I wondered what Marie would make of it. Would she be disappointed? What was she expecting? I knew she had been watching videos so probably had an idea what a ‘proper’ dungeon should look like.
I heard them go upstairs and then, a short while later, come back down. Then their voices grew fainter and I guessed they had gone into the dining room and on to the room beyond. It seemed like forever before I heard their voices again, albeit briefly.
And then, “Sherri,” I heard Mistress call, “come here for a moment.”
Luckily, I had finished my prep ages ago and was filling in my time before the final flurry of cooking dinner started. I left the kitchen and went across to the dining room and what I saw there came as something of a shock. Mistress sat in her usual seat at the head of the table while Marie stood to one side. Her eyes were firmly fixed on the floor and she was blushing bright red. I glanced down, and she was in something of a mess. The front of her frock was all crumpled and her thighs were streaked with runnels of moisture. When she looked up at me she seemed to have been crying.
“Marie and I have been having fun in the dungeon,” announced Mistress, “I introduced her to the delights of the chair.” Marie blushed even more and looked away at anywhere but me. “Unfortunately,” continued Mistress, “she’s very messy when she cums. She needs cleaning up a bit before dinner, don’t you think?”
I looked at Mistress and I knew what she was asking of me. I walked up to Marie and knelt in front of her. The floor was hard under my knees, but I ignored that. The front of Marie’s dress was covered in damp patches and, as I lifted it, I smelled the heady scent of her orgasm. Her thong was tiny and dark with her juices. I leaned forward and started to clean her thighs with my tongue. She tasted wonderful and I was in heaven ministering to her. I was repaying her for all the kindness she’d shown me during the week. I cleaned her as best I could, even trying to suck the moisture from her thong.
“Well done Sherri,” Mistress interrupted my attempts, “doesn’t she taste lovely?”
I sat back on my heels, “Yes, Mistress, delicious,” I replied, happy to tell the truth.
Then she turned to Marie, “turn around, Marie, and lift your dress. Let Sherri see the result of our fun and games.”
Marie gave me a shy smile and slowly turned around. She lifted the frock up and showed me her bottom. From my kneeling position it was at eye-level and I was pleased to see she had tasted the flogger! It looked lovely and I was a little bit jealous although it was obvious that Mistress had gone easy on her. I was even more jealous when I saw the black disc between her cheeks. Mistress had even made her wear a plug! I hadn’t been allowed the feel of one for what seemed like ages.
“I think she enjoyed discovering what a flogger feels like. And the delights of her first plug,” Mistress said.
“I’m glad you both enjoyed yourselves, Mistress,” I said.
“You’d better get back to dinner. Will it be long?”
“About fifteen minutes, Mistress.”
“Good, but bring a towel first. I don’t want our guest making a mess all over the seat when she sits down to eat.”
“Right away, Mistress,” and I stood up and left. I was a seething mixture of emotions; happy that I had pleased Mistress but jealous that Marie not only had a plug but that she had been allowed an orgasm. It seemed forever since I’d last had one and between Mistress and Marie I’d been kept on edge for ages.
**
Mistress Agnes.
I deliberately left Marie in a mess as I went up and reluctantly washed my hands. I love the smell and taste of another woman and was sorry to wash it off, but I had a standard to maintain. When I went back down she was still standing where I’d left her, and she looked up at me with a puzzled look on her face. I was delighted as I wanted to keep her off-guard, uncertain of her real role. I thought I’d add a little more confusion into the mix and called Sherri. I made her kneel in front of Marie and clean her with her tongue. I knew how experienced that tongue was and that being serviced like that would confuse Marie even more. In the space of an hour she had gone from a reluctant plaything of mine, being subject to a flogging and her first feel of a butt plug, to a more willing participant in the chair and being rewarded with a massive orgasm. Now I offered her a taste of being served by another woman.
At first, she seemed shy and embarrassed and tried to look away, but Sherri’s tongue worked its magic as it always did, and her face changed slowly to one of pleasure. At one point she moved slightly and placed her feet further apart. I could sense she was becoming aroused again. It would be difficult not to with Sherri’s tongue licking and probing her. Eventually I had to stop things before they got out of hand and made Marie turn around and display her bottom for Sherri to look at. I knew Sherri would not be very pleased as, not only had she been refused an orgasm for over a week but had also been denied a butt plug, something I knew she loved and looked forward to.
I sent her off to fetch a towel so that Marie could sit down without spoiling the furniture. I’d only recently had them re-upholstered and didn’t want them all messed up. While we waited for dinner we chatted about this and that, carefully avoiding the ‘elephant in the room’. She still lived at home I discovered but her parents allowed her plenty of freedom to come and go as she pleased. She’d had a variety of dalliances with both genders and although she didn’t mind men she preferred women. She’d had little experience recently and her time with Sherri during the week was the most intimate she’d been with anyone for months. I discovered also that she was easy to make blush, which I found charming, and I spent most of the time trying to make her do so.
Sherri finally came in and announced that dinner was ready. She arrived carrying two plates and put them in front of Marie and me. I was sat at the head of the table and I’d put Marie to my right. Another place had been set to my left. I had decided that Sherri could eat with us this evening. Usually she eats kneeling on the floor, but I was feeling magnanimous today. She returned with a third plate and I told her to come and join us. The little apron had gone and now she was completely naked. With no sense of awkwardness, she came and joined us at the table.
The food was, as I had expected it, delicious. Sherri truly was very clever in the kitchen as well as the dungeon. The fish was cooked perfectly as always and the vegetables that came with it were just right and the sauce was to die for. Throughout the meal we chatted more and even Sherri joined in. Dessert was equally as good, and, at the end, I complimented her on her skill. I told her not to bother with the washing up.
“I’m sure Marie is anxious to enjoy more of the delights that the ‘dungeon’ has to offer. Why don’t you clear the plates and then come and join us.”
She walked round the table collecting everything and headed off to the kitchen, her bottom jiggling as she walked. She knew that she was in for a fun time unlike Marie who didn’t know what I had planned for her. Nevertheless, when I stood up and walked over and unlocked the door she dutifully followed me into the room. Sherri followed a moment or two later.
I turned to Marie, “I think we’ll have Sherri on the cross to start with. Can you do that for me, Marie?”
The familiar look of confusion flitted across her face, but she recovered quickly.
“Certainly, Miss Agnes,” she replied. Then, she took me by surprise. “Do you want her back or front to us, Miss?” she asked. She’d either worked out or seen on the internet how the cross was used. But what else surprised me even more was her use of the word ‘us’. I kept my concentration on things in the cupboard to mask my pleasure.
“I think we’ll start with her back.”
“Yes, Miss.”
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