WBDP Valentine s in Vegas
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WBDP-Valentine's In Vegas 1 free porn video
"It's always better if I don't have to hide my orgasms. They seem better if I can move and make noise instead of just letting them wash over me in silence," she said.
"I don't want you to hide any orgasms during our three days here. You can be as loud and demonstrative as you want," I said. "I want people to know what an exciting sex slave I have," licking the fluids from her fingers.
"Just letting you know ahead of time; I'm not even sure if I'm capable of having an orgasm in front of others."
"I will be doing my best to make sure that won't happen. I want you to enjoy these three days as much as you did the first two."
I showed her the program. There were at least eight activities scheduled every day, more on the first two days as they extended until 10:00 PM, fewer on Valentine's Day as the exhibiters shut down at 12 PM. There would be a banquet and dance the last afternoon. Champagne and a special Valentine's Day dessert were included. Some of the activities were contests, two of which I wanted us to enter, but a lot of them were exhibitors demonstrating their products or modeling their clothes to the guests. I pointed out those exhibitions that I would like us to attend. Marcia said she was willing to go along with anything that didn't violate our pre-arranged limits.
"There are two contests that I'd like to enter, one tomorrow and one the following day," I told her. "There are prizes for first, second and third place for each contest of $1000, $700 and $400. The contest tomorrow is to see which slave will cum the most while riding a Sybian while sucking a Master's cock or cunt before the Master cums. The one day after tomorrow is to see which slave cums first while being punished by his or her master. I'm thinking of how quickly you released when I was hitting your pussy with the tawse. I think we have a shot at winning both. And of course the dinner and dance on Valentines's Day"
"What's a Sybian?" Marcia asked.
"It's a large vibrator that you sit astride like you're riding a horse. I understand the orgasms are quite frequent and intense. Some Master's use it as a form of punishment by tying the slave down on to it and forcing them to cum."
"I've never thought of cumming as a form of punishment," she said.
"I suppose it depends upon if they're allowed to stop."
Marcia pondered that.
"That could be a punishment, I guess. You do get kind of sensitive after awhile."
She looked at me awhile, studying my face. She pulled me towards her and held me very close, "Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"
"I know that if we're careful and keep communicating, this could be a very rewarding time. Look at me," pointing to my erection, pushing against my pants, "look at how excited I am right now, and all we're doing is talking. I'm so proud of you, Marcia. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your agreement to go along with this. I know more than anyone how difficult this is for you. This could very well be the best Valentine's Day present ever."
"I'm so worried that we'll end up harming our marriage. I don't want to do that."
"We will be cautious. I'm confident we can do this. I would be devastated if we damaged our relationship, but I know we're good."
"Make love to me, Sam. Don't fuck me, love me."
I kissed her. I stood her up and removed her skirt and blouse. I undid her bra and removed the butterfly.
"Plug in or out?" I asked.
"In please."
She climbed into bed while I undressed. When naked, I climbed into bed with her and pulled her into my arms, showering kisses upon her upturned lips. They parted and my tongue stole into her mouth and entwined with her own, dancing, swirling, sucking, making her breathless. I kissed my way across her cheek to her neck, nibbled and licked my way down her neck, giving her goose bumps. I chased the goose bumps down her chest, across her breasts, nibbling at the sensitive skin around her areolae before locking my lips around the hardened points of her nipples. She thrust her chest out against my mouth, pushing her flesh deeper into my mouth. I suckled the dimpled flesh, hearing her moans of arousal as I teased the taut tips atop her mounds. She began grinding her hips against my leg and I could feel the wetness of her sex against my thigh.
My hand reached down between us and she spread her legs, opening herself to my questing fingers. I could feel the heat of her blood engorged labia growing as her arousal grew, the lips parting for my manual stimulation. First one, then a second digit dug into the spongy flesh of her sheath, feeling the slick, silky smoothness as her body prepared itself for mating. My thumb rubbed the stiffened peak of her clit as it poked itself from the protective folds.
I couldn't wait any longer to taste her, the tangy, spicy center of her and my mouth left her breasts and my tongue speared into her core, feeling her excitement as her cunt squeezed against my tongue, trying to draw it deeper into her molten recesses. My fingers, freed from her sheath by my tongue, stroked the perineum in lazy strokes while simultaneously tapping lightly on her plug, sending little shock waves into her anal ring.
Lapping hungrily at the fluids flowing from her sex, I swirled my tongue upward through her cleft, tantalizing her lower lips before nipping gently at her engorged clit. Suckling softly on the turgid flesh while my tongue began dancing on the tip of her exposed nub, I felt her hips rolling against my mouth, thrusting against me, seeking more pressure. Two fingers slid back into her cunt and sought the roughened skin of her g-spot on the top of her sheath.
Rubbing against the nerve bundle while my tongue worked the nubbin on the outside, I heard her cry out, "I'm cumming, Sam. Oh, God! It feels so good."
Her hands grabbed my head and pulled me tighter to her sex, her sheath spasming around my fingers, deep moans spilling from her lips as I kept up my oral and manual stimulation of her trigger points.
"Put your thick cock in me, Sam. I want to feel you inside me, thrusting, driving, making me yours again."
I didn't need a second invitation. Positioning myself between her legs, I threw her calves over my shoulder and eased myself into her liquid heat, sliding easily in until our pubic bones fused together, the plug in her ass making her exquisitely tight and increasing her sensitivity.
"Yes, oh yes! I don't think I've stopped cumming. It seems to be going on and on and it feels so fucking good, feeling you buried in me."
She was right. I felt her spasms pulsating on my prick, massaging, milking, swallowing my cock whole. I began a nice, steady thrusting, pacing my plunges with the contractions of her cunt. Sinking in on the tightening of her sheath, withdrawing on the dilation. The intensity of that tight sleeve pulling and tugging on my shaft was divine.
It appeared to me that the more we had sex, the better it got. That our act of pleasure was perfected with practice and the rediscovery of our bodies. Marcia had an almost unlimited capacity for sex. I had never reached a point where it was too much for her. Always, she was capable of giving and taking more.
What's more; she'd apparently determined to exercise her Kegel muscles after our little game the last time we played at Master and slave. I could feel her bear down on my prick as her orgasm continued and the excitement building up all day exploded as I shot huge wads of my cum into her womb in spurts that jetted from my cock. It was like having my cock in a vice.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, how can you be squeezing me so tightly while you cum?" I said, panting my release.
"Ben wa balls, honey. You gave them to me so I could practice. I've been practicing."
"You're not k**ding. My cock was so sensitive after I orgasmed and you just kept squeezing and squeezing. It was wonderful. If you left a single drop of juice in me, it must have been hiding in the deepest darkest recess of my balls." She was still compressing my cock although the poor little boy was giving up and going home.
My wife grew silent after our passion and I knew that she was thinking about what the next few days would bring. The fact that she would agree to this left me with a feeling of awe and wonder. I could not think of any greater way for her to show her love to me than agreeing to this despite how I knew she felt.
"My love, I know you're nervous and the fact that you would consent to do this means the world to me," I said. "I will do my utmost to make sure that I don't violate the trust you've placed in me. Remember, either one of us can cancel this by saying 'Cocoa Puffs'. We'll start at 7:00 tomorrow morning. I trust that all will be okay."
"Please hold me, Sam."
I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close. Gradually, her breathing slowed and I knew that whatever bedeviled her mind, it no longer troubled her sleep. I held her in my arms as I too settled into sleep.
*******
I'd set our alarm for 6:30 AM, and after it went off, Marcia went into the bathroom and took care of all her necessities. When she got out of the shower, I was waiting for her in the bedroom with her collar, slave tag, cuffs, leash and a black mesh romper that could scarce be called clothing. She knelt when she entered the room and I had her display so I could fit all of the items on her. The romper went over her neck, had two sheer panels that went over her breasts before they came together again to pass between her legs, then parted again to wrap around her waist and tying in the front. It left nothing the imagination as it could not be said to cover anything, merely accenting and accentuating her nudity. She looked stunning and I could feel my cock responding both to her beauty and the situation. I hooked the leash to the collar and asked her to follow three feet behind me and to kneel if we came to a stop. I wore a plain white t-shirt and cargo pants shorts with a few of our toys in the pockets, and sandals. I also carried an express bag with a few more toys in it. It would allow me to add any purchases to it while looking around.
I can say without equivocation that as I walked her to the elevators to go to breakfast, I was the proudest man in the world. When we got in the elevator, there were two other couples already there. Marcia knelt down at my feet. I introduced myself and my slave.
"Hello, my name is Sam and my slave here is Marcia. Pleased to meet you," I said, holding my hand out to the nearest fellow.
He shook my hand and said, "Frank and my pet, Cathy." Cathy was on her knees leaning against Frank and rubbing her face on his leg. She was wearing cat ears on her head and had a plug in her ass with a cat's tail attached to it and nothing else but some body paint that suggested she was a gray and white tabby.
The other man stuck out his hand as well and identified himself as well. "I'm George and my little slave has been given the name of Dina, which means flower in Gorean." Dina had on a sheer red silk shift, essentially nothing more than single piece of fabric with a hole in the middle for her head and a piece of rope at the waist. She sat on her knees much like Marcia, but with her hands open on her thighs.
Frank was perhaps a little overweight, but not unduly so. He was around 5-9 and around 200 pounds. George was taller, 5-11 I guessed and perhaps 185. Both of them were wearing leather, so perhaps that was a commonality with people calling themselves Masters. I determined that I would have to keep an eye on what others were wearing and determine what I might want to wear to fit in. George also had a whip wrapped around his waist.
"I'm guessing that you and Cathy are into pet play, Frank; and that Dina is your slave in the Gorean style, George?"
"Right." "Correct." Came the the answers and George asked, "What do you practice, Sam?"
I looked down at Marcia and said, "Marcia and I are new to the lifestyle. That's part of the reason for our coming here. We wanted to see what was out there and see if we had a particular kink or would develop our own."
George followed my gaze and said, "You have an outstanding slave, extremely beautiful, and she appears quite obedient. Do you share?"
Marcia looked at me with a dangerous look in her eyes, awaiting my response but relaxed when I said, "Look at her, George. Would you want to share this flower of womanhood with anyone were she yours?"
George laughed. "You're right," he said. "It's unlikely that I would share something so lovely either, but if you should ever change your mind, let me know, would you." Dina said nothing but she pouted slightly at hearing that her Master would be interested in sharing another slave.
"Not likely, George," I smilingly said. "Would I be asking too much if I imposed on you both to have breakfast with us? I'm interested in what each of you considers to be the benefits of your particular lifestyles."
Both of them thought that would be most agreeable although I suspect their primary reason was to be able to keep watching Marcia, even though both of them had lovely slaves of their own. Cathy was perhaps a little plump, to match her master, but she had beautiful eyes and breasts. Dina did not appear to me to like the idea, but she had no say in the matter if what I knew of Goreans was true. Cathy didn't appear to care one way or the other.
"I notice it's rather warm in the hotel," I said. "Is the air conditioner broken?"
George and Frank laughed. "Not likely," George said, "but with all the nudity, they keep the temperature above 78 so the guests won't be uncomfortable. The staff find it a little warm, especially if they're working hard, but the hotel's relaxed their dress code so the staff can dress down to be more comfortable. Some of them may even be nude if they like the lifestyle. The only way you can tell they're staff is they still have to wear the hotel name tag, but it's usually attached to a chain around their neck."
Frank added, "I think they still have air on in the kitchen because of the stoves and ovens, but it's pretty warm everywhere else."
We took seats at a larger table, rather the masters did. The hotel had thoughtfully provided large fabric cushions on the floors next to the chairs for the slaves. They knelt down next to us.
We ordered and made small talk until our food order was delivered, at which point I asked Frank, "So, what can you tell me about pet play and why I and my slave might be interested in it." I fed Marcia some of her breakfast by hand as I did so. All of the masters fed their slaves while our conversation went on, eating our own food as well.
Frank thought a few moments, then said, "Pet owners want to have our own pets. Pets that are more special than the run of the mill pet. Our pet is essentially treated as such, using a litter box, kept on a cushion or a cage when we are busy, fed on the floor in their own little bowls, drinking the same way. In return, we love and caress our pets, take care of them, treat them nicely when they behave and punish them when they are bad."
"How do you decide what type of pet you will have?" I asked.
"Sometimes it's the will of the master, but those relationships rarely last as the pet usually has an affinity to a particular a****l and this affinity is usually reflected in their behavior. The best relationships usually result when the pet chooses the type of a****l she is and the master respects the choice." I saw Marcia watching and listening with interest as Frank gave Cathy a morsel of her food and she rubbed up against his leg and purred just as a cat would. He reached down and stroked her head and down her back, then scratching her head between her ears.
"And what attracted you to pet play?" I continued.
"You know how devoted some people are to their pets and their pets to them. Think of that times ten. The love and devotion of a beloved a****l with the intelligence of a person. Able to cater to you and your every whim, please you in ways that an a****l can't. What could be better?"
"A human slave," George chimed in. "One who has been trained to serve perfectly, to dance with grace, and makes every effort to satisfy her master in every way, one who is filled with slave heat and constantly needs her master to satisfy her and reduce her heat, even if for only a moment. That would be better than a pet. For example, 'Serve me my juice, slave'."
Dina rose gracefully to her feet, and twirling with lithe movements, took the pitcher of orange juice left at our table, poured it into a glass, knelt again with a little pirouette, took the glass and touching it briefly to her sex, her breasts and then kissing the glass, turned the glass to face her master and handed it up to him on upraised arms, saying, "This slave would ask that her master accept this juice as a sign that she finds favor in her masters eyes." The whole thing was done almost as a ritual, but so smoothly and elegantly, it was more than ritual, almost ceremony. This too was watched closely by Marcia, I noticed. I could see that she appreciated how graceful and dancelike Dina's movements were. George reached under Dina's silks and stroked her sex and she shuddered with the touch.
"This is slave heat," George said, licking her moisture from his fingers. "She can almost cum on command, she is so well trained and attuned to the needs of her master."
"But," Frank interjected. "She has little or no voice in her slavery. You Goreans buy and sell your slaves almost like cattle. There is no relationship there other than what the master wants."
"Slaves are happier when they are used in such a way. If she is sold, a slave knows that she hasn't been pleasing to her master and she will strive to do better with the next one so she isn't sold again and eventually ends up with the cheapest and most brutal of masters. They have no decisions to make, they only have to obey their masters," George replied.
"It doesn't sound as if you use safe words," I asked. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"If a slave doesn't want to be punished and misused, she should serve her master better, be more pleasing," George answered. "There is nothing more graceful and pleasing than a Gorean slave girl. They are demonstrating some of the Gorean slave dances tonight at nine at the sand pit. Dina will be one of the dancers. She is a most lovely dancer and the dancing makes her so hot that I must usually service her immediately to calm her down. You should come."
"I'll definitely consider it," I said, "but like I said, we're looking at a lot of things here this weekend and my time will be at a premium."
Frank also chimed in. "They're also having pony races tonight at 8:00 and pony dressage at 3:30 PM tomorrow. I would invite you to observe a branch of pet play then. Granted, it's a little specialized, but would give you an idea of how our pets perform for us."
"Thanks, Frank. We'll see if we have time. I'd better get going now. There's a lot to see today."
As we walked away, I asked Marcia what she thought.
"Neither one of the lifestyles particularly fits in with us, Master" she said. "I loved the grace and style of the Gorean slave, but the lack of a safe word and the general lack of consideration for the slave was totally distasteful to me. And having to act like an a****l all the time would be a no go as far as I'm concerned. I'm nobody's rabbit or cat or doggy. And using a litter box! Not for us."
"I agree," I said. "Let's check out some of the vendors."
We entered out on the exhibition floor. Masters were everywhere, leading naked or near naked slaves of all types, men and women. Some even had more than one slave on their leash. As anticipated, many masters did wear leather of some kind or another. Others were dressed in business suits, some were dressed as casually as I was, some had on no more than the slaves they led around. I saw one man with three young ladies he herded around with a riding crop, getting them to go in whatever direction he desired with a quick swat upon the buttocks.
"I don't want you to hide any orgasms during our three days here. You can be as loud and demonstrative as you want," I said. "I want people to know what an exciting sex slave I have," licking the fluids from her fingers.
"Just letting you know ahead of time; I'm not even sure if I'm capable of having an orgasm in front of others."
"I will be doing my best to make sure that won't happen. I want you to enjoy these three days as much as you did the first two."
I showed her the program. There were at least eight activities scheduled every day, more on the first two days as they extended until 10:00 PM, fewer on Valentine's Day as the exhibiters shut down at 12 PM. There would be a banquet and dance the last afternoon. Champagne and a special Valentine's Day dessert were included. Some of the activities were contests, two of which I wanted us to enter, but a lot of them were exhibitors demonstrating their products or modeling their clothes to the guests. I pointed out those exhibitions that I would like us to attend. Marcia said she was willing to go along with anything that didn't violate our pre-arranged limits.
"There are two contests that I'd like to enter, one tomorrow and one the following day," I told her. "There are prizes for first, second and third place for each contest of $1000, $700 and $400. The contest tomorrow is to see which slave will cum the most while riding a Sybian while sucking a Master's cock or cunt before the Master cums. The one day after tomorrow is to see which slave cums first while being punished by his or her master. I'm thinking of how quickly you released when I was hitting your pussy with the tawse. I think we have a shot at winning both. And of course the dinner and dance on Valentines's Day"
"What's a Sybian?" Marcia asked.
"It's a large vibrator that you sit astride like you're riding a horse. I understand the orgasms are quite frequent and intense. Some Master's use it as a form of punishment by tying the slave down on to it and forcing them to cum."
"I've never thought of cumming as a form of punishment," she said.
"I suppose it depends upon if they're allowed to stop."
Marcia pondered that.
"That could be a punishment, I guess. You do get kind of sensitive after awhile."
She looked at me awhile, studying my face. She pulled me towards her and held me very close, "Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"
"I know that if we're careful and keep communicating, this could be a very rewarding time. Look at me," pointing to my erection, pushing against my pants, "look at how excited I am right now, and all we're doing is talking. I'm so proud of you, Marcia. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your agreement to go along with this. I know more than anyone how difficult this is for you. This could very well be the best Valentine's Day present ever."
"I'm so worried that we'll end up harming our marriage. I don't want to do that."
"We will be cautious. I'm confident we can do this. I would be devastated if we damaged our relationship, but I know we're good."
"Make love to me, Sam. Don't fuck me, love me."
I kissed her. I stood her up and removed her skirt and blouse. I undid her bra and removed the butterfly.
"Plug in or out?" I asked.
"In please."
She climbed into bed while I undressed. When naked, I climbed into bed with her and pulled her into my arms, showering kisses upon her upturned lips. They parted and my tongue stole into her mouth and entwined with her own, dancing, swirling, sucking, making her breathless. I kissed my way across her cheek to her neck, nibbled and licked my way down her neck, giving her goose bumps. I chased the goose bumps down her chest, across her breasts, nibbling at the sensitive skin around her areolae before locking my lips around the hardened points of her nipples. She thrust her chest out against my mouth, pushing her flesh deeper into my mouth. I suckled the dimpled flesh, hearing her moans of arousal as I teased the taut tips atop her mounds. She began grinding her hips against my leg and I could feel the wetness of her sex against my thigh.
My hand reached down between us and she spread her legs, opening herself to my questing fingers. I could feel the heat of her blood engorged labia growing as her arousal grew, the lips parting for my manual stimulation. First one, then a second digit dug into the spongy flesh of her sheath, feeling the slick, silky smoothness as her body prepared itself for mating. My thumb rubbed the stiffened peak of her clit as it poked itself from the protective folds.
I couldn't wait any longer to taste her, the tangy, spicy center of her and my mouth left her breasts and my tongue speared into her core, feeling her excitement as her cunt squeezed against my tongue, trying to draw it deeper into her molten recesses. My fingers, freed from her sheath by my tongue, stroked the perineum in lazy strokes while simultaneously tapping lightly on her plug, sending little shock waves into her anal ring.
Lapping hungrily at the fluids flowing from her sex, I swirled my tongue upward through her cleft, tantalizing her lower lips before nipping gently at her engorged clit. Suckling softly on the turgid flesh while my tongue began dancing on the tip of her exposed nub, I felt her hips rolling against my mouth, thrusting against me, seeking more pressure. Two fingers slid back into her cunt and sought the roughened skin of her g-spot on the top of her sheath.
Rubbing against the nerve bundle while my tongue worked the nubbin on the outside, I heard her cry out, "I'm cumming, Sam. Oh, God! It feels so good."
Her hands grabbed my head and pulled me tighter to her sex, her sheath spasming around my fingers, deep moans spilling from her lips as I kept up my oral and manual stimulation of her trigger points.
"Put your thick cock in me, Sam. I want to feel you inside me, thrusting, driving, making me yours again."
I didn't need a second invitation. Positioning myself between her legs, I threw her calves over my shoulder and eased myself into her liquid heat, sliding easily in until our pubic bones fused together, the plug in her ass making her exquisitely tight and increasing her sensitivity.
"Yes, oh yes! I don't think I've stopped cumming. It seems to be going on and on and it feels so fucking good, feeling you buried in me."
She was right. I felt her spasms pulsating on my prick, massaging, milking, swallowing my cock whole. I began a nice, steady thrusting, pacing my plunges with the contractions of her cunt. Sinking in on the tightening of her sheath, withdrawing on the dilation. The intensity of that tight sleeve pulling and tugging on my shaft was divine.
It appeared to me that the more we had sex, the better it got. That our act of pleasure was perfected with practice and the rediscovery of our bodies. Marcia had an almost unlimited capacity for sex. I had never reached a point where it was too much for her. Always, she was capable of giving and taking more.
What's more; she'd apparently determined to exercise her Kegel muscles after our little game the last time we played at Master and slave. I could feel her bear down on my prick as her orgasm continued and the excitement building up all day exploded as I shot huge wads of my cum into her womb in spurts that jetted from my cock. It was like having my cock in a vice.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, how can you be squeezing me so tightly while you cum?" I said, panting my release.
"Ben wa balls, honey. You gave them to me so I could practice. I've been practicing."
"You're not k**ding. My cock was so sensitive after I orgasmed and you just kept squeezing and squeezing. It was wonderful. If you left a single drop of juice in me, it must have been hiding in the deepest darkest recess of my balls." She was still compressing my cock although the poor little boy was giving up and going home.
My wife grew silent after our passion and I knew that she was thinking about what the next few days would bring. The fact that she would agree to this left me with a feeling of awe and wonder. I could not think of any greater way for her to show her love to me than agreeing to this despite how I knew she felt.
"My love, I know you're nervous and the fact that you would consent to do this means the world to me," I said. "I will do my utmost to make sure that I don't violate the trust you've placed in me. Remember, either one of us can cancel this by saying 'Cocoa Puffs'. We'll start at 7:00 tomorrow morning. I trust that all will be okay."
"Please hold me, Sam."
I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close. Gradually, her breathing slowed and I knew that whatever bedeviled her mind, it no longer troubled her sleep. I held her in my arms as I too settled into sleep.
*******
I'd set our alarm for 6:30 AM, and after it went off, Marcia went into the bathroom and took care of all her necessities. When she got out of the shower, I was waiting for her in the bedroom with her collar, slave tag, cuffs, leash and a black mesh romper that could scarce be called clothing. She knelt when she entered the room and I had her display so I could fit all of the items on her. The romper went over her neck, had two sheer panels that went over her breasts before they came together again to pass between her legs, then parted again to wrap around her waist and tying in the front. It left nothing the imagination as it could not be said to cover anything, merely accenting and accentuating her nudity. She looked stunning and I could feel my cock responding both to her beauty and the situation. I hooked the leash to the collar and asked her to follow three feet behind me and to kneel if we came to a stop. I wore a plain white t-shirt and cargo pants shorts with a few of our toys in the pockets, and sandals. I also carried an express bag with a few more toys in it. It would allow me to add any purchases to it while looking around.
I can say without equivocation that as I walked her to the elevators to go to breakfast, I was the proudest man in the world. When we got in the elevator, there were two other couples already there. Marcia knelt down at my feet. I introduced myself and my slave.
"Hello, my name is Sam and my slave here is Marcia. Pleased to meet you," I said, holding my hand out to the nearest fellow.
He shook my hand and said, "Frank and my pet, Cathy." Cathy was on her knees leaning against Frank and rubbing her face on his leg. She was wearing cat ears on her head and had a plug in her ass with a cat's tail attached to it and nothing else but some body paint that suggested she was a gray and white tabby.
The other man stuck out his hand as well and identified himself as well. "I'm George and my little slave has been given the name of Dina, which means flower in Gorean." Dina had on a sheer red silk shift, essentially nothing more than single piece of fabric with a hole in the middle for her head and a piece of rope at the waist. She sat on her knees much like Marcia, but with her hands open on her thighs.
Frank was perhaps a little overweight, but not unduly so. He was around 5-9 and around 200 pounds. George was taller, 5-11 I guessed and perhaps 185. Both of them were wearing leather, so perhaps that was a commonality with people calling themselves Masters. I determined that I would have to keep an eye on what others were wearing and determine what I might want to wear to fit in. George also had a whip wrapped around his waist.
"I'm guessing that you and Cathy are into pet play, Frank; and that Dina is your slave in the Gorean style, George?"
"Right." "Correct." Came the the answers and George asked, "What do you practice, Sam?"
I looked down at Marcia and said, "Marcia and I are new to the lifestyle. That's part of the reason for our coming here. We wanted to see what was out there and see if we had a particular kink or would develop our own."
George followed my gaze and said, "You have an outstanding slave, extremely beautiful, and she appears quite obedient. Do you share?"
Marcia looked at me with a dangerous look in her eyes, awaiting my response but relaxed when I said, "Look at her, George. Would you want to share this flower of womanhood with anyone were she yours?"
George laughed. "You're right," he said. "It's unlikely that I would share something so lovely either, but if you should ever change your mind, let me know, would you." Dina said nothing but she pouted slightly at hearing that her Master would be interested in sharing another slave.
"Not likely, George," I smilingly said. "Would I be asking too much if I imposed on you both to have breakfast with us? I'm interested in what each of you considers to be the benefits of your particular lifestyles."
Both of them thought that would be most agreeable although I suspect their primary reason was to be able to keep watching Marcia, even though both of them had lovely slaves of their own. Cathy was perhaps a little plump, to match her master, but she had beautiful eyes and breasts. Dina did not appear to me to like the idea, but she had no say in the matter if what I knew of Goreans was true. Cathy didn't appear to care one way or the other.
"I notice it's rather warm in the hotel," I said. "Is the air conditioner broken?"
George and Frank laughed. "Not likely," George said, "but with all the nudity, they keep the temperature above 78 so the guests won't be uncomfortable. The staff find it a little warm, especially if they're working hard, but the hotel's relaxed their dress code so the staff can dress down to be more comfortable. Some of them may even be nude if they like the lifestyle. The only way you can tell they're staff is they still have to wear the hotel name tag, but it's usually attached to a chain around their neck."
Frank added, "I think they still have air on in the kitchen because of the stoves and ovens, but it's pretty warm everywhere else."
We took seats at a larger table, rather the masters did. The hotel had thoughtfully provided large fabric cushions on the floors next to the chairs for the slaves. They knelt down next to us.
We ordered and made small talk until our food order was delivered, at which point I asked Frank, "So, what can you tell me about pet play and why I and my slave might be interested in it." I fed Marcia some of her breakfast by hand as I did so. All of the masters fed their slaves while our conversation went on, eating our own food as well.
Frank thought a few moments, then said, "Pet owners want to have our own pets. Pets that are more special than the run of the mill pet. Our pet is essentially treated as such, using a litter box, kept on a cushion or a cage when we are busy, fed on the floor in their own little bowls, drinking the same way. In return, we love and caress our pets, take care of them, treat them nicely when they behave and punish them when they are bad."
"How do you decide what type of pet you will have?" I asked.
"Sometimes it's the will of the master, but those relationships rarely last as the pet usually has an affinity to a particular a****l and this affinity is usually reflected in their behavior. The best relationships usually result when the pet chooses the type of a****l she is and the master respects the choice." I saw Marcia watching and listening with interest as Frank gave Cathy a morsel of her food and she rubbed up against his leg and purred just as a cat would. He reached down and stroked her head and down her back, then scratching her head between her ears.
"And what attracted you to pet play?" I continued.
"You know how devoted some people are to their pets and their pets to them. Think of that times ten. The love and devotion of a beloved a****l with the intelligence of a person. Able to cater to you and your every whim, please you in ways that an a****l can't. What could be better?"
"A human slave," George chimed in. "One who has been trained to serve perfectly, to dance with grace, and makes every effort to satisfy her master in every way, one who is filled with slave heat and constantly needs her master to satisfy her and reduce her heat, even if for only a moment. That would be better than a pet. For example, 'Serve me my juice, slave'."
Dina rose gracefully to her feet, and twirling with lithe movements, took the pitcher of orange juice left at our table, poured it into a glass, knelt again with a little pirouette, took the glass and touching it briefly to her sex, her breasts and then kissing the glass, turned the glass to face her master and handed it up to him on upraised arms, saying, "This slave would ask that her master accept this juice as a sign that she finds favor in her masters eyes." The whole thing was done almost as a ritual, but so smoothly and elegantly, it was more than ritual, almost ceremony. This too was watched closely by Marcia, I noticed. I could see that she appreciated how graceful and dancelike Dina's movements were. George reached under Dina's silks and stroked her sex and she shuddered with the touch.
"This is slave heat," George said, licking her moisture from his fingers. "She can almost cum on command, she is so well trained and attuned to the needs of her master."
"But," Frank interjected. "She has little or no voice in her slavery. You Goreans buy and sell your slaves almost like cattle. There is no relationship there other than what the master wants."
"Slaves are happier when they are used in such a way. If she is sold, a slave knows that she hasn't been pleasing to her master and she will strive to do better with the next one so she isn't sold again and eventually ends up with the cheapest and most brutal of masters. They have no decisions to make, they only have to obey their masters," George replied.
"It doesn't sound as if you use safe words," I asked. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"If a slave doesn't want to be punished and misused, she should serve her master better, be more pleasing," George answered. "There is nothing more graceful and pleasing than a Gorean slave girl. They are demonstrating some of the Gorean slave dances tonight at nine at the sand pit. Dina will be one of the dancers. She is a most lovely dancer and the dancing makes her so hot that I must usually service her immediately to calm her down. You should come."
"I'll definitely consider it," I said, "but like I said, we're looking at a lot of things here this weekend and my time will be at a premium."
Frank also chimed in. "They're also having pony races tonight at 8:00 and pony dressage at 3:30 PM tomorrow. I would invite you to observe a branch of pet play then. Granted, it's a little specialized, but would give you an idea of how our pets perform for us."
"Thanks, Frank. We'll see if we have time. I'd better get going now. There's a lot to see today."
As we walked away, I asked Marcia what she thought.
"Neither one of the lifestyles particularly fits in with us, Master" she said. "I loved the grace and style of the Gorean slave, but the lack of a safe word and the general lack of consideration for the slave was totally distasteful to me. And having to act like an a****l all the time would be a no go as far as I'm concerned. I'm nobody's rabbit or cat or doggy. And using a litter box! Not for us."
"I agree," I said. "Let's check out some of the vendors."
We entered out on the exhibition floor. Masters were everywhere, leading naked or near naked slaves of all types, men and women. Some even had more than one slave on their leash. As anticipated, many masters did wear leather of some kind or another. Others were dressed in business suits, some were dressed as casually as I was, some had on no more than the slaves they led around. I saw one man with three young ladies he herded around with a riding crop, getting them to go in whatever direction he desired with a quick swat upon the buttocks.
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