Trio For Three Voices Part Three
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Trio For Three Voices. Part Two. free porn video
TRIO PART TWO. A dinner invitation and a guided tour.
Mistress Agnes.
When I sent her off on that Monday morning I was immediately full of doubt. What if it all went wrong? What if this Marie girl was the office gossip and word got out about our lifestyle? As you might judge I was anxious to find out. When I got home from work that Monday evening Sherri was already there, her car parked in its usual place. It had been a hot day, it was already one of the hottest summers on record, and I was sticky and damp from my drive home. I called out to Sherri who could be heard clattering away in the kitchen.
“Hi. I’m home.”
“Hi, Mistress, good day?” she replied, poking her head round the kitchen door.
“Too damned hot,” I replied, “I hope you’ve got some wine in the fridge.”
“Of course, Mistress, one of your favourites. Dinner will be about half an hour.”
“Good girl, I’ll take a shower and get changed and then sit outside for a while.”
I went upstairs and stripped off and washed away the dust and grime of the day. I dressed simply, in a pair of shorts and a baggy T-shirt, hooked my feet into a pair of flip-flops and went back down and into the garden. I sat on the patio under our large umbrella. It was still very warm even at this late hour of the day and there was almost no breeze. Sherri came padding out on her bare feet carrying an ice bucket with an opened bottle of white wine and a couple of glasses. She put them all on the small table beside me and poured out my drink.
“What’s for dinner, Sherri?” I asked her.
“If you don’t mind, Mistress, I’ve just made a salad today. It’s been a long day and I was really tired when I got home.”
“A salad will be fine, dear, now come and sit down and join me in a glass of wine. I’m anxious to hear how your day went.”
I pointed to the chair next to mine but instead of sitting in it as I had expected she took the cushion from it and laid it on the floor and sat at my feet instead.
“So, how was your day?”
“As busy as usual, Mistress,” she replied trying to avoid the subject.
“Silly girl, you know what I mean. Did you follow instructions?”
“Of course, Mistress.”
“And how did your little friend find it?”
And so, she told me all the details. It had worked out far better than I had anticipated. Young Marie, it seems, had not been shy about what was asked of her. I got all the details. The ‘accidental’ fingers against her anus while her bottom was treated; the pinching of her nipples which sounded suspiciously deliberate; the fact that Sherri was already wet when Marie stroked her pussy and how the finger penetrating her could not have been an accident; and finally, how Sherri had made her stop before it was too late. According to Sherri it was at that point that Marie realised that I was behind it all.
“Did she ask you to service her?”
“No, Mistress, she never asked me.”
“If she does you must refuse. As she has guessed that you are following orders you can tell her that I say that you’re not allowed. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“I want you to continue in the same way for the rest of the week. Do you think she’ll be willing to go along with it?”
“Oh yes, Mistress, in fact I’m sure she will. I’m sure she intends to. She has already taken charge of my pot of balm.”
“Has she indeed. That’s most interesting. Most importantly neither of you are allowed an orgasm. At least, not at the office. What she gets up to out of the office I cannot control but you certainly will not. Now, go sort out dinner, I’m famished.”
For the rest of the week I got a report every night when I got home. The main narrative stayed the same, but the details changed subtly. The ‘accidental’ touching of Sherri’s anus became more deliberate and prolonged and on Thursday Marie pushed a finger briefly inside. More time was spent on Sherri’s breasts and the pinching became slowly harder. The main difference was when Marie was ministering to her pussy. In truth it didn’t really need it as I had been relatively gentle when I flogged it, but Marie was now not only bolder when she touched it but was now deciding for herself when to stop. She seemed to have mastered the art of taking Sherri to the brink and stopping just at the right, or wrong, moment. I was as pleased as punch.
On Friday morning, just as she was leaving, I gave Sherri one more instruction.
“I want you to invite Marie to dinner tomorrow. Tell her to come around four. If she wants she can stay in the spare room, it will save her from driving home late and she can have a glass or two of wine with dinner.”
“Are you sure, Mistress?”
“Don’t question me,” I said sternly, “I’m sure she’ll be eager to come and visit.”
With that I let her go. Had I gone too far? I hoped and believed that I hadn’t but only time would tell.
**
Sherri.
I can’t deny that I’d thoroughly enjoyed my time with Marie over the past week. Even our lunchtime strolls together through the park were fun. I began to feel that I could open up to her and that she’d respect my confidences. Our morning sessions in the ladies had got better and better. The main thing for me was that I knew I no longer had to tell her to stop but she instinctively knew when that moment had arrived and abruptly stopped what she was doing. Of course, I found it hugely frustrating and I was a gibbering wreck at the end of every session, but I managed to stay faithful to Mistress’s instructions all week.
Just one more day to go and one more task to complete. I knew Mistress was right and that Marie would jump at the chance to meet her, but I was still nervous. Our morning session went much as before except that her finger stayed longer in my bottom than before and seemed to go deeper. I almost came when she did that, but I knew I had worse torment to come. My breasts had healed more quickly and now showed almost no sign of their harsh treatment. Marie still insisted on treating them daily and she pinched and twisted my nipples more viciously each day. The marks on my pussy had gone already but that didn’t stop her. She brought me closer than she ever had before, and I had to grit my teeth and silently beg her to stop. She did so in the nick of time, but it took me longer than ever to calm down and come back to normal. If there was one thing in the whole world I wanted it was that Mistress would allow me an orgasm this weekend.
At lunchtime we went to the park as had become our habit. The hot spell seemed to be going on forever with endless days of blue skies and glaring sun. Luckily ‘our’ bench was under a tree and in an unfrequented area of the park so always seemed to be empty.
**
Marie.
Our little game had continued every morning all week and my ministrations seemed to have worked. Her bottom was now only slightly pink, and the skin was soft and smooth once more. Elsewhere all signs of her ill treatment had gone by the Wednesday, but I was enjoying playing with her boobs and pussy so much that I insisted that we continue. I loved watching her face screw up when I twisted her nipples, terrified that any noise might be heard. But most of all I loved bringing her to the brink and watching the desperate pleading in her eyes when she was nearly there. I fought an inner battle with myself every day. I really wanted to make her come and see the joy and relief on her face, but I knew that word would get back to her girlfriend and it would be me that got into trouble.
By Friday I was saddened that our time together for our little sessions would soon be coming to an end. I assumed that, as she’d been good all week she would not be getting punished at the weekend and that my services as healing masseuse would not be needed. I tried to make it a little more special than before. I found out, as much by accident as anything else, that she enjoyed having her arsehole played with. I’d tried putting a finger up my own while masturbating a couple of times and found it a pleasant experience. It seemed to heighten the pleasure of my orgasm, so I could see why Sherri liked it. I had even got to the point yesterday when I had poked a finger in it and she inadvertently moaned. I tried to make out it had happened by accident. Today was going to be no accident. After I’d spread the ointment over her bottom I let my hand trail down the cleft and stopped at the little pucker. I felt Sherri sway back against my hand, so I extended one finger and pushed it slowly and deliberately in. I slid it in and out a few times before taking it out completely and making her turn around.
She had small boobs but very pert with small areolas but quite large protruding nipples. To be fair we both had small boobs and mine were even smaller but still nice enough I liked to think. I took one of her boobs in each hand and squeezed them before taking both her nipples and pinching them hard. I used them to lift her onto tiptoe and she had to reach out to the wall on either side to stop herself toppling over. Ripples of anguish passed over her face.
Then I turned my attention to her pussy and my internal battle began. My logical side said “Fuck it, make her come. She’ll get punished and we can do this again next week”. But there was always that nagging doubt. Yes, she would almost certainly get punished but would she also be banned from meeting me? And, oddly, over the week I had begun to feel a lot of respect for her girlfriend. After all it was her that had made all this possible. To go against her now would be a betrayal and probably ruin everything. So, I swallowed my lustful thoughts and brought her as close as I dared before pulling out. I made her lick my fingers clean before I left her to sort herself out.
At lunchtimes we got into the habit of going to the park and sitting on the same bench every day. We chatted about all sorts of things, not just about her lifestyle although that did crop up fairly often. On Friday I could tell that she was nervous about something and when it came out I had to take some time before responding.
“Mistress says would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow night? You can stay over if you like. We have a spare room. It’ll save you driving home late.”
For what seemed like ages I let that hang in the air between us. It was so much more than I had ever hoped for.
“I’d love to,” I replied, “I’m really eager to meet her at last.”
And right there, on ‘our’ bench, in the middle of the park I leant across and kissed her firmly on the lips. I almost floated back to the office and I hardly did any work for the rest of the afternoon. It was only when I got home and to the privacy of my room that the doubts crept in. What had I let myself in for? Would I end up being tied up and flogged as Sherri had been by some sadistic leather-clad monster. That last was the result of a particularly wild flight of my imagination fuelled by videos I’d watched. Nothing I had heard all week could make her anything like that. But the thought of being flogged was more real. Undoubtedly it would hurt but how much? And would she be gentle with me as it was my first time? What else went on between them? Maybe it would simply be a civilised dinner for three, a few glasses of wine and then bed in the spare room and home the next day. In truth that last option sounded as dull as anything. I really craved something more exciting. What actually happened turned all my ideas on their heads.
**
Mistress Agnes.
I was surprised when I got home from work on the Friday that Sherri’s car wasn’t there, but I assumed there would be a good explanation when she finally arrived. If anything, the weather had got even hotter and I showered and simply wrapped a silk kimono round me and went and sat in the shade in the garden with a glass of chilled wine. I heard the front door open and Sherri’s voice calling my name.
“Out here,” I called back and a moment later she appeared at the patio door. “You’re very late home,” I said questioningly.
“I’m sorry, Mistress, but I stopped in town to find something nice for dinner tomorrow.”
“I assume that means we’re expecting company?”
“Yes, Mistress, I asked her, and she said yes.”
“Then you did well. What did you get?”
She lifted up a plastic carrier in her hand as a sort of trophy. “I bought a whole halibut, Mistress. It was a bit expensive, but I love cooking with it. I have it all planned, Mistress, but it’s a bit elaborate and I may have to spend a lot of time in the kitchen tomorrow, if that’s ok?”
“As far as cooking is concerned you have my complete trust. I think you can order pizza for tonight. We both like that.”
“Thank you, Mistress, I’ll do it straight away,” and she ducked back into the house and disappeared.
We passed a pleasant and very quiet evening together. I questioned her a little more about Marie. It seems she had been delighted to be asked for dinner and had accepted eagerly. I must admit I was becoming more and more intrigued to meet her although I had yet to work out exactly what she wanted. All would be revealed tomorrow evening.
I let Sherri sleep in the bed that night and, although I wasn’t ready to let her have an orgasm yet, I did allow her to practice her skills on me which she did with enthusiasm. I fell asleep in a warm, post-orgasmic glow and with Sherri spooned behind me.
When I woke the next morning, I was alone in bed which was hardly unusual. Sherri almost invariably woke first and went down to prepare breakfast. Usually I would wait for a coffee to appear beside me before getting up but there were intriguing smells wafting up the stairs that piqued my curiosity. I went down to find her busily doing something gory and messy with what remained of a large fish carcass. She looked up quickly and froze as I came in. She had the air of someone caught at some wrong. I smiled at her and walked over to the coffee pot. It was full and steaming so I found my usual cup and filled it.
I sat down at the battered old kitchen table and looked at her. She still stood, unmoving, a thin knife in her hand, hovering over the remains of the fish. Neat fillets were on a board next to her.
“Good morning, Sherri,” I said to break the spell.
She finally spoke, “Good morning, Mistress, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were awake. I’d have brought your coffee up earlier.”
“Don’t worry, my dear,” I consoled her, “you are obviously busy and I’m sure we’ll enjoy the results of all your hard work later. I’m quite capable of getting myself some breakfast.”
“Are you sure, Mistress, I can sort something out easily.”
I waved my hand dismissively and finished my coffee before standing up. I freely admit to being almost totally useless in the kitchen but even I could manage the intricacies of the toaster. I even managed to find the location of a jar of my favourite local honey. I sat back down to eat and watched her slowly and skilfully finish the massacre of the fish corpse. Finally, I refilled my coffee cup and announced that I was going to spend the day reading in the garden.
By midday the sun had become so hot that the shade from the tree was having no effect and I was forced to retreat indoors. The cottage is an old one and has very thick walls which insulated us from both the worst of the heat in summer and of the cold in winter. It was much cooler in the living room. After a brief lunch of salad, I went back to my chair and read or dozed for the rest of the afternoon.
As Marie was due at about four, when three o’clock arrived I went upstairs and took a shower and spent some time deciding what to wear.
I’m not one of those cliched Mistresses, into leather or PVC and I chose a very conservative black evening frock with a modest high neck at the front but quite a daring scoop at the back. I decided to do without a bra but put on a small lacy black thong that I’d paid far too much for, but which was very pretty. I also wore black thigh-high hold-ups and my only pair of black heels. I’m not a great fan of wearing heels but I thought I ought to make an effort. My hair was neat, and I applied the absolute minimum of makeup.
I was just in time as I heard the sound of a car outside just as I reached the bottom of the stairs. I paused and waited for the knock on the door. When it finally came I walked to the door and opened it. Sherri was right when she described Marie as ‘tiny’. Even without the three-inch heels I would have towered over her. She must have been five foot at the most. What Sherri failed to have told me was quite how pretty she was. I smiled and reached out a hand in greeting.
“You must be Marie,” I said warmly, “please come in.”
She smiled nervously and stepped inside the door. “And you must be Sherri’s girlfriend,” she said, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Miss.”
“For the time being you may call me Agnes,” I told her trying to emphasise the possible temporary nature of that arrangement, “please, take a seat.”
I led her to the unlit fireplace and pointed to the easy chair which I’d placed next to mine. For a moment I turned from her and called out, “Sherri, your friend has arrived, come and say hello.”
**
Marie.
I’d paced about my flat most of the day with various scenarios swirling about my head. I tried on about ten different dresses before I finally made a decision. It was still unbearably hot, so I chose a simple pale green sundress with thin straps. I thought long and hard about panties and decided in the end to wear some. I picked out a thong that was almost the same shade of green as the dress. The dress looked better without a bra as the shoulder straps were so narrow. I had a pair of four-inch heels also in green which I hadn’t worn for ages and needed a good clean. They weren’t quite the same shade as the dress or the thong, but they were the closest I had. It was all a bit minimal and informal, but I hadn’t been told of any dress code.
I left in plenty of time and a combination of sat nav and Sherri’s hand-written instructions found me outside their gate half an hour early. I parked up out of sight and waited as patiently as I could. I only had a vague idea where I was apart from the fact that I had come through a small village about half a mile away. In the half hour I waited no other car came past to disturb me and I happily sat with all the windows wide open listening to the birds in the small stand of trees opposite their gate.
At four I started the car and drove up the drive. It wasn’t far and only a bend in the road had stopped me, or anyone else, seeing their cottage from the road. I parked up and closed the windows and got out. It was very pretty with a few flowers along the front. Nervously I approached the door and, taking a gulp of air, I knocked.
It was opened almost immediately by a woman a few years older than either Sherri or me. She was dressed all in black but looked very stylish. She smiled warmly and held out her hand and greeted me and drew me inside closing the door behind me.
The room was low-ceilinged and remarkably cool. I had no idea how I was supposed to address her but somehow managed to mutter, “thank you, Miss,” hoping that was the polite way but she corrected me.
She told me to call her Agnes but seemed to stress that this was temporary and might change. This both worried and excited me. She led me to a chair and I sat down in it. She sat in the chair next to mine and then called out to Sherri to come and say hello.
I heard a clattering of pans before the kitchen door swung open. I could hardly believe my eyes. Of course, I already knew about their ‘special’ relationship, but this was unexpected to say the least. Apart from the tiniest white apron in the world Sherri was completely naked. She smiled and walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek. She acted as though this was the most natural way to be dressed to greet a guest.
“Hi, Marie, you found us ok then.”
I gathered my thoughts together enough to stumble out a reply. “Yeah, thanks to your directions from the village.” I started to calm down and managed to continue, “nice outfit by the way,” and winked at her.
Sherri blushed suddenly but Agnes chose to answer me instead. “Usually she is naked but, in the kitchen, I insist on the apron. From a safety point of view. She’s busy cooking our dinner at the moment but would you like a glass of wine?”
I nodded and told her I’d love one. I sensed that Sherri was about to leave but Agnes stopped and made her turn with her back to us. Agnes reached out and ran her hand over Sherri’s bottom. It showed almost no signs of her punishment from last weekend.
“Almost as good as new, don’t you think?” she asked me, “mostly thanks to the care you showed.”
“I think she’d have healed quite quickly any way but thank you. May I …” I trailed off not sure how to ask but she seemed to read my mind and a simple hand gesture brought permission for me to reach out and stroke Sherri’s bottom. It was smooth and soft with an inner core of strength and, most importantly, only the faintest hint of unnatural pink. As our two hands wandered over Sherri’s backside the dynamic of the situation started to excite me. That Sherri would willingly, even happily display herself and allow two people to stroke and fondle her still confused me a little, but I was beginning to learn that it was ok, and normal in this home. My thoughts were interrupted when, suddenly with a loud smack that left a handprint on her right cheek, Sherri was dismissed and told to bring a bottle of wine and two glasses. She did so about a minute later before scuttling back to the kitchen. Agnes filled two glasses and passed one back to me and settle into her chair. I sipped the wine and began to relax in her company.
“Thank you for helping last week. I’m sure you must have been shocked the first time you saw it.”
“You can say that again. I only got a brief glimpse that first time, but it was enough.”
“And how did you feel about what you saw?”
“To be honest I was very angry. I assumed she’d been beaten up or something and I was ready to call the police, but something about the way she behaved stopped me, at least until after I’d spoken to her properly.”
“Are you glad you did?”
“Speak to her? Oh my god yes! I’d have missed out on all the fun this week. Our lunchtime chats helped enormously, and I spent a lot of time at home surfing the net.”
“Ahh the dangers of the internet. A very distorted view of our world I fear.”
“I began to realise that the more we chatted and the more I learned about what went on between you and her. To be honest I’m still a little confused about some bits.”
“Maybe this weekend will answer some of it.”
I decided to change the subject. “You have a lovely home,” I said and raised my glass to her.
She responded in turn by raising hers and we clinked together. “Would you like a tour?”
“I’d love one.”
“I’ll show you upstairs first. I try and keep out of the kitchen when Sherri is being creative.”
She led me upstairs and into a bright and airy room with a king-size bed dominating it. The window looked out onto the back garden which was mostly lawn and a few trees. In the distance I could see the tower of the church in the nearby village.
“This is the Mistress bedroom as we call it. Originally the cottage had three bedrooms, but we stole one of them and made an en-suite. So much easier when we have guests.”
She led me along a short corridor and opened another door. A much smaller room with a much smaller queen-sized bed. Very prettily decorated and looking out from the front of the house to a view of woods and trees and fields.
“The main bathroom is next door and we knocked a doorway in so that it could be accessed more easily from here.”
She led me back down the stairs, through the living room and into what was obviously the dining room
“A much-neglected room as we hardly ever use it. But I suppose you want to be nosy and look inside the ‘dungeon’?”
I was suddenly all flustered. Was I that transparent? Of course, I wanted to see where it all happened, and I’d been trying to work out a way to ask. Had she read my mind? She led me round the dining table to the far end to a dark wood door. Reaching up she slid a key from the top of a bookcase and unlocked the door, opened it and stood aside to let me go first.
I was surprised at how light and cheery it was. All the ones I’d seen on the internet were dark and dingy with bare stone of plain brick walls. In here the walls and ceiling were painted white and the floor was a light tan laminate surface. The darkest thing in the room, which I saw immediately as it was against the wall opposite the door, was a St. Andrews cross. I recognised it from quite a lot of the videos I’d seen. It was made of massive timbers that had either been painted or stained to a very dark brown.
Against the left-hand wall another object, familiar from my school days, a gymnastics horse. The leather was partly mid-brown but had gone a lot darker in places from years of use. There seemed to be some additions which I didn’t understand.
To the right was one of the oddest chairs I’ve ever seen. It was made entirely of wood with no soft cushions at all. The back was so high it nearly reached the ceiling. For some reason it had an air of menace and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Next to the door was a large cupboard looking a little like a wardrobe.
Agnes walked in behind me with a second key and unlocked the cupboard. She opened the double doors and stood back and looked at me.
“This is the equipment cupboard,” she said proudly.
Mistress Agnes.
When I sent her off on that Monday morning I was immediately full of doubt. What if it all went wrong? What if this Marie girl was the office gossip and word got out about our lifestyle? As you might judge I was anxious to find out. When I got home from work that Monday evening Sherri was already there, her car parked in its usual place. It had been a hot day, it was already one of the hottest summers on record, and I was sticky and damp from my drive home. I called out to Sherri who could be heard clattering away in the kitchen.
“Hi. I’m home.”
“Hi, Mistress, good day?” she replied, poking her head round the kitchen door.
“Too damned hot,” I replied, “I hope you’ve got some wine in the fridge.”
“Of course, Mistress, one of your favourites. Dinner will be about half an hour.”
“Good girl, I’ll take a shower and get changed and then sit outside for a while.”
I went upstairs and stripped off and washed away the dust and grime of the day. I dressed simply, in a pair of shorts and a baggy T-shirt, hooked my feet into a pair of flip-flops and went back down and into the garden. I sat on the patio under our large umbrella. It was still very warm even at this late hour of the day and there was almost no breeze. Sherri came padding out on her bare feet carrying an ice bucket with an opened bottle of white wine and a couple of glasses. She put them all on the small table beside me and poured out my drink.
“What’s for dinner, Sherri?” I asked her.
“If you don’t mind, Mistress, I’ve just made a salad today. It’s been a long day and I was really tired when I got home.”
“A salad will be fine, dear, now come and sit down and join me in a glass of wine. I’m anxious to hear how your day went.”
I pointed to the chair next to mine but instead of sitting in it as I had expected she took the cushion from it and laid it on the floor and sat at my feet instead.
“So, how was your day?”
“As busy as usual, Mistress,” she replied trying to avoid the subject.
“Silly girl, you know what I mean. Did you follow instructions?”
“Of course, Mistress.”
“And how did your little friend find it?”
And so, she told me all the details. It had worked out far better than I had anticipated. Young Marie, it seems, had not been shy about what was asked of her. I got all the details. The ‘accidental’ fingers against her anus while her bottom was treated; the pinching of her nipples which sounded suspiciously deliberate; the fact that Sherri was already wet when Marie stroked her pussy and how the finger penetrating her could not have been an accident; and finally, how Sherri had made her stop before it was too late. According to Sherri it was at that point that Marie realised that I was behind it all.
“Did she ask you to service her?”
“No, Mistress, she never asked me.”
“If she does you must refuse. As she has guessed that you are following orders you can tell her that I say that you’re not allowed. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“I want you to continue in the same way for the rest of the week. Do you think she’ll be willing to go along with it?”
“Oh yes, Mistress, in fact I’m sure she will. I’m sure she intends to. She has already taken charge of my pot of balm.”
“Has she indeed. That’s most interesting. Most importantly neither of you are allowed an orgasm. At least, not at the office. What she gets up to out of the office I cannot control but you certainly will not. Now, go sort out dinner, I’m famished.”
For the rest of the week I got a report every night when I got home. The main narrative stayed the same, but the details changed subtly. The ‘accidental’ touching of Sherri’s anus became more deliberate and prolonged and on Thursday Marie pushed a finger briefly inside. More time was spent on Sherri’s breasts and the pinching became slowly harder. The main difference was when Marie was ministering to her pussy. In truth it didn’t really need it as I had been relatively gentle when I flogged it, but Marie was now not only bolder when she touched it but was now deciding for herself when to stop. She seemed to have mastered the art of taking Sherri to the brink and stopping just at the right, or wrong, moment. I was as pleased as punch.
On Friday morning, just as she was leaving, I gave Sherri one more instruction.
“I want you to invite Marie to dinner tomorrow. Tell her to come around four. If she wants she can stay in the spare room, it will save her from driving home late and she can have a glass or two of wine with dinner.”
“Are you sure, Mistress?”
“Don’t question me,” I said sternly, “I’m sure she’ll be eager to come and visit.”
With that I let her go. Had I gone too far? I hoped and believed that I hadn’t but only time would tell.
**
Sherri.
I can’t deny that I’d thoroughly enjoyed my time with Marie over the past week. Even our lunchtime strolls together through the park were fun. I began to feel that I could open up to her and that she’d respect my confidences. Our morning sessions in the ladies had got better and better. The main thing for me was that I knew I no longer had to tell her to stop but she instinctively knew when that moment had arrived and abruptly stopped what she was doing. Of course, I found it hugely frustrating and I was a gibbering wreck at the end of every session, but I managed to stay faithful to Mistress’s instructions all week.
Just one more day to go and one more task to complete. I knew Mistress was right and that Marie would jump at the chance to meet her, but I was still nervous. Our morning session went much as before except that her finger stayed longer in my bottom than before and seemed to go deeper. I almost came when she did that, but I knew I had worse torment to come. My breasts had healed more quickly and now showed almost no sign of their harsh treatment. Marie still insisted on treating them daily and she pinched and twisted my nipples more viciously each day. The marks on my pussy had gone already but that didn’t stop her. She brought me closer than she ever had before, and I had to grit my teeth and silently beg her to stop. She did so in the nick of time, but it took me longer than ever to calm down and come back to normal. If there was one thing in the whole world I wanted it was that Mistress would allow me an orgasm this weekend.
At lunchtime we went to the park as had become our habit. The hot spell seemed to be going on forever with endless days of blue skies and glaring sun. Luckily ‘our’ bench was under a tree and in an unfrequented area of the park so always seemed to be empty.
**
Marie.
Our little game had continued every morning all week and my ministrations seemed to have worked. Her bottom was now only slightly pink, and the skin was soft and smooth once more. Elsewhere all signs of her ill treatment had gone by the Wednesday, but I was enjoying playing with her boobs and pussy so much that I insisted that we continue. I loved watching her face screw up when I twisted her nipples, terrified that any noise might be heard. But most of all I loved bringing her to the brink and watching the desperate pleading in her eyes when she was nearly there. I fought an inner battle with myself every day. I really wanted to make her come and see the joy and relief on her face, but I knew that word would get back to her girlfriend and it would be me that got into trouble.
By Friday I was saddened that our time together for our little sessions would soon be coming to an end. I assumed that, as she’d been good all week she would not be getting punished at the weekend and that my services as healing masseuse would not be needed. I tried to make it a little more special than before. I found out, as much by accident as anything else, that she enjoyed having her arsehole played with. I’d tried putting a finger up my own while masturbating a couple of times and found it a pleasant experience. It seemed to heighten the pleasure of my orgasm, so I could see why Sherri liked it. I had even got to the point yesterday when I had poked a finger in it and she inadvertently moaned. I tried to make out it had happened by accident. Today was going to be no accident. After I’d spread the ointment over her bottom I let my hand trail down the cleft and stopped at the little pucker. I felt Sherri sway back against my hand, so I extended one finger and pushed it slowly and deliberately in. I slid it in and out a few times before taking it out completely and making her turn around.
She had small boobs but very pert with small areolas but quite large protruding nipples. To be fair we both had small boobs and mine were even smaller but still nice enough I liked to think. I took one of her boobs in each hand and squeezed them before taking both her nipples and pinching them hard. I used them to lift her onto tiptoe and she had to reach out to the wall on either side to stop herself toppling over. Ripples of anguish passed over her face.
Then I turned my attention to her pussy and my internal battle began. My logical side said “Fuck it, make her come. She’ll get punished and we can do this again next week”. But there was always that nagging doubt. Yes, she would almost certainly get punished but would she also be banned from meeting me? And, oddly, over the week I had begun to feel a lot of respect for her girlfriend. After all it was her that had made all this possible. To go against her now would be a betrayal and probably ruin everything. So, I swallowed my lustful thoughts and brought her as close as I dared before pulling out. I made her lick my fingers clean before I left her to sort herself out.
At lunchtimes we got into the habit of going to the park and sitting on the same bench every day. We chatted about all sorts of things, not just about her lifestyle although that did crop up fairly often. On Friday I could tell that she was nervous about something and when it came out I had to take some time before responding.
“Mistress says would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow night? You can stay over if you like. We have a spare room. It’ll save you driving home late.”
For what seemed like ages I let that hang in the air between us. It was so much more than I had ever hoped for.
“I’d love to,” I replied, “I’m really eager to meet her at last.”
And right there, on ‘our’ bench, in the middle of the park I leant across and kissed her firmly on the lips. I almost floated back to the office and I hardly did any work for the rest of the afternoon. It was only when I got home and to the privacy of my room that the doubts crept in. What had I let myself in for? Would I end up being tied up and flogged as Sherri had been by some sadistic leather-clad monster. That last was the result of a particularly wild flight of my imagination fuelled by videos I’d watched. Nothing I had heard all week could make her anything like that. But the thought of being flogged was more real. Undoubtedly it would hurt but how much? And would she be gentle with me as it was my first time? What else went on between them? Maybe it would simply be a civilised dinner for three, a few glasses of wine and then bed in the spare room and home the next day. In truth that last option sounded as dull as anything. I really craved something more exciting. What actually happened turned all my ideas on their heads.
**
Mistress Agnes.
I was surprised when I got home from work on the Friday that Sherri’s car wasn’t there, but I assumed there would be a good explanation when she finally arrived. If anything, the weather had got even hotter and I showered and simply wrapped a silk kimono round me and went and sat in the shade in the garden with a glass of chilled wine. I heard the front door open and Sherri’s voice calling my name.
“Out here,” I called back and a moment later she appeared at the patio door. “You’re very late home,” I said questioningly.
“I’m sorry, Mistress, but I stopped in town to find something nice for dinner tomorrow.”
“I assume that means we’re expecting company?”
“Yes, Mistress, I asked her, and she said yes.”
“Then you did well. What did you get?”
She lifted up a plastic carrier in her hand as a sort of trophy. “I bought a whole halibut, Mistress. It was a bit expensive, but I love cooking with it. I have it all planned, Mistress, but it’s a bit elaborate and I may have to spend a lot of time in the kitchen tomorrow, if that’s ok?”
“As far as cooking is concerned you have my complete trust. I think you can order pizza for tonight. We both like that.”
“Thank you, Mistress, I’ll do it straight away,” and she ducked back into the house and disappeared.
We passed a pleasant and very quiet evening together. I questioned her a little more about Marie. It seems she had been delighted to be asked for dinner and had accepted eagerly. I must admit I was becoming more and more intrigued to meet her although I had yet to work out exactly what she wanted. All would be revealed tomorrow evening.
I let Sherri sleep in the bed that night and, although I wasn’t ready to let her have an orgasm yet, I did allow her to practice her skills on me which she did with enthusiasm. I fell asleep in a warm, post-orgasmic glow and with Sherri spooned behind me.
When I woke the next morning, I was alone in bed which was hardly unusual. Sherri almost invariably woke first and went down to prepare breakfast. Usually I would wait for a coffee to appear beside me before getting up but there were intriguing smells wafting up the stairs that piqued my curiosity. I went down to find her busily doing something gory and messy with what remained of a large fish carcass. She looked up quickly and froze as I came in. She had the air of someone caught at some wrong. I smiled at her and walked over to the coffee pot. It was full and steaming so I found my usual cup and filled it.
I sat down at the battered old kitchen table and looked at her. She still stood, unmoving, a thin knife in her hand, hovering over the remains of the fish. Neat fillets were on a board next to her.
“Good morning, Sherri,” I said to break the spell.
She finally spoke, “Good morning, Mistress, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were awake. I’d have brought your coffee up earlier.”
“Don’t worry, my dear,” I consoled her, “you are obviously busy and I’m sure we’ll enjoy the results of all your hard work later. I’m quite capable of getting myself some breakfast.”
“Are you sure, Mistress, I can sort something out easily.”
I waved my hand dismissively and finished my coffee before standing up. I freely admit to being almost totally useless in the kitchen but even I could manage the intricacies of the toaster. I even managed to find the location of a jar of my favourite local honey. I sat back down to eat and watched her slowly and skilfully finish the massacre of the fish corpse. Finally, I refilled my coffee cup and announced that I was going to spend the day reading in the garden.
By midday the sun had become so hot that the shade from the tree was having no effect and I was forced to retreat indoors. The cottage is an old one and has very thick walls which insulated us from both the worst of the heat in summer and of the cold in winter. It was much cooler in the living room. After a brief lunch of salad, I went back to my chair and read or dozed for the rest of the afternoon.
As Marie was due at about four, when three o’clock arrived I went upstairs and took a shower and spent some time deciding what to wear.
I’m not one of those cliched Mistresses, into leather or PVC and I chose a very conservative black evening frock with a modest high neck at the front but quite a daring scoop at the back. I decided to do without a bra but put on a small lacy black thong that I’d paid far too much for, but which was very pretty. I also wore black thigh-high hold-ups and my only pair of black heels. I’m not a great fan of wearing heels but I thought I ought to make an effort. My hair was neat, and I applied the absolute minimum of makeup.
I was just in time as I heard the sound of a car outside just as I reached the bottom of the stairs. I paused and waited for the knock on the door. When it finally came I walked to the door and opened it. Sherri was right when she described Marie as ‘tiny’. Even without the three-inch heels I would have towered over her. She must have been five foot at the most. What Sherri failed to have told me was quite how pretty she was. I smiled and reached out a hand in greeting.
“You must be Marie,” I said warmly, “please come in.”
She smiled nervously and stepped inside the door. “And you must be Sherri’s girlfriend,” she said, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Miss.”
“For the time being you may call me Agnes,” I told her trying to emphasise the possible temporary nature of that arrangement, “please, take a seat.”
I led her to the unlit fireplace and pointed to the easy chair which I’d placed next to mine. For a moment I turned from her and called out, “Sherri, your friend has arrived, come and say hello.”
**
Marie.
I’d paced about my flat most of the day with various scenarios swirling about my head. I tried on about ten different dresses before I finally made a decision. It was still unbearably hot, so I chose a simple pale green sundress with thin straps. I thought long and hard about panties and decided in the end to wear some. I picked out a thong that was almost the same shade of green as the dress. The dress looked better without a bra as the shoulder straps were so narrow. I had a pair of four-inch heels also in green which I hadn’t worn for ages and needed a good clean. They weren’t quite the same shade as the dress or the thong, but they were the closest I had. It was all a bit minimal and informal, but I hadn’t been told of any dress code.
I left in plenty of time and a combination of sat nav and Sherri’s hand-written instructions found me outside their gate half an hour early. I parked up out of sight and waited as patiently as I could. I only had a vague idea where I was apart from the fact that I had come through a small village about half a mile away. In the half hour I waited no other car came past to disturb me and I happily sat with all the windows wide open listening to the birds in the small stand of trees opposite their gate.
At four I started the car and drove up the drive. It wasn’t far and only a bend in the road had stopped me, or anyone else, seeing their cottage from the road. I parked up and closed the windows and got out. It was very pretty with a few flowers along the front. Nervously I approached the door and, taking a gulp of air, I knocked.
It was opened almost immediately by a woman a few years older than either Sherri or me. She was dressed all in black but looked very stylish. She smiled warmly and held out her hand and greeted me and drew me inside closing the door behind me.
The room was low-ceilinged and remarkably cool. I had no idea how I was supposed to address her but somehow managed to mutter, “thank you, Miss,” hoping that was the polite way but she corrected me.
She told me to call her Agnes but seemed to stress that this was temporary and might change. This both worried and excited me. She led me to a chair and I sat down in it. She sat in the chair next to mine and then called out to Sherri to come and say hello.
I heard a clattering of pans before the kitchen door swung open. I could hardly believe my eyes. Of course, I already knew about their ‘special’ relationship, but this was unexpected to say the least. Apart from the tiniest white apron in the world Sherri was completely naked. She smiled and walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek. She acted as though this was the most natural way to be dressed to greet a guest.
“Hi, Marie, you found us ok then.”
I gathered my thoughts together enough to stumble out a reply. “Yeah, thanks to your directions from the village.” I started to calm down and managed to continue, “nice outfit by the way,” and winked at her.
Sherri blushed suddenly but Agnes chose to answer me instead. “Usually she is naked but, in the kitchen, I insist on the apron. From a safety point of view. She’s busy cooking our dinner at the moment but would you like a glass of wine?”
I nodded and told her I’d love one. I sensed that Sherri was about to leave but Agnes stopped and made her turn with her back to us. Agnes reached out and ran her hand over Sherri’s bottom. It showed almost no signs of her punishment from last weekend.
“Almost as good as new, don’t you think?” she asked me, “mostly thanks to the care you showed.”
“I think she’d have healed quite quickly any way but thank you. May I …” I trailed off not sure how to ask but she seemed to read my mind and a simple hand gesture brought permission for me to reach out and stroke Sherri’s bottom. It was smooth and soft with an inner core of strength and, most importantly, only the faintest hint of unnatural pink. As our two hands wandered over Sherri’s backside the dynamic of the situation started to excite me. That Sherri would willingly, even happily display herself and allow two people to stroke and fondle her still confused me a little, but I was beginning to learn that it was ok, and normal in this home. My thoughts were interrupted when, suddenly with a loud smack that left a handprint on her right cheek, Sherri was dismissed and told to bring a bottle of wine and two glasses. She did so about a minute later before scuttling back to the kitchen. Agnes filled two glasses and passed one back to me and settle into her chair. I sipped the wine and began to relax in her company.
“Thank you for helping last week. I’m sure you must have been shocked the first time you saw it.”
“You can say that again. I only got a brief glimpse that first time, but it was enough.”
“And how did you feel about what you saw?”
“To be honest I was very angry. I assumed she’d been beaten up or something and I was ready to call the police, but something about the way she behaved stopped me, at least until after I’d spoken to her properly.”
“Are you glad you did?”
“Speak to her? Oh my god yes! I’d have missed out on all the fun this week. Our lunchtime chats helped enormously, and I spent a lot of time at home surfing the net.”
“Ahh the dangers of the internet. A very distorted view of our world I fear.”
“I began to realise that the more we chatted and the more I learned about what went on between you and her. To be honest I’m still a little confused about some bits.”
“Maybe this weekend will answer some of it.”
I decided to change the subject. “You have a lovely home,” I said and raised my glass to her.
She responded in turn by raising hers and we clinked together. “Would you like a tour?”
“I’d love one.”
“I’ll show you upstairs first. I try and keep out of the kitchen when Sherri is being creative.”
She led me upstairs and into a bright and airy room with a king-size bed dominating it. The window looked out onto the back garden which was mostly lawn and a few trees. In the distance I could see the tower of the church in the nearby village.
“This is the Mistress bedroom as we call it. Originally the cottage had three bedrooms, but we stole one of them and made an en-suite. So much easier when we have guests.”
She led me along a short corridor and opened another door. A much smaller room with a much smaller queen-sized bed. Very prettily decorated and looking out from the front of the house to a view of woods and trees and fields.
“The main bathroom is next door and we knocked a doorway in so that it could be accessed more easily from here.”
She led me back down the stairs, through the living room and into what was obviously the dining room
“A much-neglected room as we hardly ever use it. But I suppose you want to be nosy and look inside the ‘dungeon’?”
I was suddenly all flustered. Was I that transparent? Of course, I wanted to see where it all happened, and I’d been trying to work out a way to ask. Had she read my mind? She led me round the dining table to the far end to a dark wood door. Reaching up she slid a key from the top of a bookcase and unlocked the door, opened it and stood aside to let me go first.
I was surprised at how light and cheery it was. All the ones I’d seen on the internet were dark and dingy with bare stone of plain brick walls. In here the walls and ceiling were painted white and the floor was a light tan laminate surface. The darkest thing in the room, which I saw immediately as it was against the wall opposite the door, was a St. Andrews cross. I recognised it from quite a lot of the videos I’d seen. It was made of massive timbers that had either been painted or stained to a very dark brown.
Against the left-hand wall another object, familiar from my school days, a gymnastics horse. The leather was partly mid-brown but had gone a lot darker in places from years of use. There seemed to be some additions which I didn’t understand.
To the right was one of the oddest chairs I’ve ever seen. It was made entirely of wood with no soft cushions at all. The back was so high it nearly reached the ceiling. For some reason it had an air of menace and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Next to the door was a large cupboard looking a little like a wardrobe.
Agnes walked in behind me with a second key and unlocked the cupboard. She opened the double doors and stood back and looked at me.
“This is the equipment cupboard,” she said proudly.
Clover
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