Delilah s Tribulations
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Delilah AgainChapter 4 free porn video
When I made it to the kitchen, they were both there, both in pinafore aprons over their nude bodies. L ... Enid ... had her back to me, the marks of the whip vivid. I thought there was some swelling, too.
“Good morning?” Yes, there was a question in my mind as well as my voice.
They both turned to face me. Sally mimed a kiss before saying, “Good morning, Master Jerry.”
Enid, though, took a couple of steps toward me and fell to her knees, head down and wrists crossed in front of her.
“Enid?”
She looked up. “Yes, Master?”
“Come here, please.”
She stood, and walked slowly up to me, head down. When she stopped a pace away from me, I closed the gap and carefully wrapped my arms around her; there was really room for one arm where Sally avoided her kidneys. My right hand pressed her head against me. She went limp, slumped against me, and began to cry. Over her head, I could see Sally, smiling and nodding as I began to stroke Enid’s hair. “Shhh. Easy. It’s okay, girl.”
I held her like that for several minutes before she stiffened and straightened up, when I released her. “Thank you, Master. Thank you.”
“Slave!” Sally spoke for the first time.
“Yes, Milady.”
“Serve us. I need to talk to Master Jerry.”
Most of the breakfast was already cooked; it was really only the eggs they’d waited to start. I sat with Sally at the kitchen table. She leaned towards me and spoke very quietly in my ear. “You handled that perfectly, Master. Enid isn’t a natural slave, but she needs this for now.”
I turned and touched my lips to hers. “I love you, Sally.”
Her eyes twinkled. “I know, Master Jerry. It’s lovely to hear it, though. I love you too.”
“A question, Sally. Milady?”
She giggled. “I am not, and never will be, a Mistress. But I am the woman, the Lady of the house. Hence, to a junior slave, I am ‘Milady’. A recognition of my status and authority.”
“Ah! That explains it. Thank you.”
Coffee was placed on the table – black for me, white, with frothed milk, for Sally. Enid went silently back to the pan and began filling plates with bacon, sausage, scrambled egg, fried bread, baked beans. One was placed in front of Sally, the other, piled high, in front of me, with an extra fork. Enid knelt by my chair. I opened my mouth to tell her to sit at the table, but Sally placed her hand on mine and squeezed. I shot an interrogative look at her. She shook her head and glanced at Enid, then at me. I nodded, and began to eat, interspersing mouthfuls for myself with mouthfuls for Enid. After the third, a tear trickled down her cheek. I ignored it.
Sally finished before me, just. At that, she’d clearly been taking things slowly. When Enid swallowed her last mouthful, Sally told her, “Slave, clear up, wash up, and come to attend us in the lounge.”
Enid stood; rather gracefully, I thought. “Yes, Milady.” She began to clear the table, and I followed Sally out of the room. I sat on the settee and, unusually, Sally sat on my lap and snuggled into my arms. She kissed my neck, and I caressed the smooth skin of her back.
“Master Jerry, I suggest that, tonight, Enid be locked in the cell. The thugs coming to kill us and her wouldn’t be able to get in to her without special equipment and if her change of heart isn’t genuine, she won’t be able to derail anything we do.”
“You think that’s necessary?”
“I think it’s safest. She can have food, water, books, whatever.”
I thought about that. I was a little distracted – even after over a year of married life – by her nubile body in my arms. En passant, I must comment that I would never have guessed that she was in her mid thirties. Her body would do credit to a twenty-year-old.
“You are so beautiful, Sally.”
She giggled. “I’m very happy you still think so.”
“Okay. I’m not entirely happy about it, but okay.”
We stayed like that for some time – I don’t know how long, perhaps twenty minutes? But Enid entered the room and knelt in front of us. She, like Sally, had discarded the apron. Sally straightened up. “Slave!”
“Yes, Milady?”
“Straighten your back! Part your knees! Head up, eyes down! Fold your arms behind your back! You are on display for your Master, so display!”
My cock was already hard from Sally sitting in my lap. I don’t think it was possible for it to get harder. Enid was shaved, though it looked as though that needed refreshing.
“Slave,” Sally obviously thought so, too, because she went on, “you need to shave. Go and do that now, please.”
“Yes, Milady.” Enid disappeared rapidly.
“Master, when she returns, you must inspect her. Thoroughly. With your finger. If you are satisfied – there must be no hint of stubble – complete the inspection with your tongue.”
“Sally...”
“Master, she has been humiliated and degraded in the process of becoming owned. What I am asking you to do...”
“You mean telling me, Sally.”
“Asking. Is intended to drive home that she is now owned by you, and her obedience, her loyalty, her very self, now belongs to you. Once the business is over, we can begin to free her, but right now our lives – and hers – depend on being able to trust her.”
I nodded, sighing. “Sally, I never wanted this, you know.”
“I know, Master Jerry. I thank God every day that you love me enough to give me what I need, that you love me enough to accept me the way I am. But Enid needs you to be a Master, too.”
I didn’t respond to that, because Enid reappeared and Sally slipped of my lap. “Stand in front of Master Jerry, Slave, for inspection.”
She blushed, which was a surprise, but obeyed. Her mound was certainly smooth enough, but my finger – hardly the softest and most sensitive part of me – while it slid smoothly enough between her labia – found a couple of rough, bristly areas and even a few wisps of hair. “Not good enough, Slave. You obviously need supervision. Slave Sally?”
“Yes, Master. Shall I do the job under your supervision?”
I pretended to consider that. “That sounds like a good idea, Slave Sally.”
I followed two gyrating bottoms upstairs, but fixed my attention on Sally’s to distract me from the whip marks. Enid had to sit spread wide in the bathroom in order for Sally to be able to shave her. I sat so that I could see everything she was doing and, again, I was surprised that Enid blushed. Comprehensively. Sally finished up after stroking Enid’s vulva with her (much more sensitive) fingers. She looked round.
“Master?” And stepped back.
I knelt in front of Enid for a close inspection. Despite the application of soap and water, perhaps because of that and Sally’s manipulations, she was clearly lubricating freely and, yes, my fingers found smooth skin. My eyes also noticed the blossoming of her pussy and the emergence of quite a large clitoris. I dived in. Enid’s scream was delayed a few seconds by surprise, I think. Her orgasm followed shortly after – she must have been on a hair trigger – announced both by the movements of her hips and further screams. She tasted good. Not as good as Sally, by any means, but more than just okay. She tumbled through several more before I moved away and stood.
“What a wet little girl,” I commented, looking down at her. “I need another shower.” So saying I stripped off, headed for the shower, and started the water running.
“Don’t just sit there, Slave.” I turned at the sound of Sally’s voice. “You made him like that, you go and wash him.”
I was clean and rock hard when we finished. “Master,” Enid spoke tentatively.
“Speak, Slave.”
“Master, there’s one way you haven’t taken possession.”
“Oh?” As if I didn’t guess what she was referring to. Anal was something I’d never tried and never wanted to try. I glanced at Sally, who nodded and turned to one of the bathroom cupboards, to produce a tube of KY jelly. I took a deep breath. “Then present yourself, Slave.”
I expect most of my readers will have seen porn photos or films of a woman on her knees, face to the floor, spreading her backside for penetration. I’m not going to give the gory details, except to say, ‘hot and tight’. I came rather quickly. And have zero desire ever to repeat the experience. But that’s just me. Chacun a son gout.
Enid stood, facing me, eyes down. I stepped up to her, lifted her chin with one finger though her eyes stayed downcast ... and gently brushed my lips against hers. She collapsed against me in tears, and all I could do was hold her.
“Slave.” Sally was less abrupt that time.
Enid took her own weight. I released her and she turned to my wife. “Yes, Milady.”
“There is cleaning up to do. Both of you.”
“Yes, Milady.” She turned back to me. “Master?”
I gestured to the shower, and followed her in when the water was running hot. We cleaned each other up, thoroughly. I got another erection, but discouraged Enid from doing anything about it. We dried each other, and the three of us made our way to the lounge. Sally and I sat on the settee, while Enid adopted Sally’s usual position.
“Enid,” I began, but could feel Sally’s frown. “Slave. Is there anything you can tell us about who is coming tonight?”
“No, Master. Only that I was supposed to wait in the lounge if I could.”
“Very well. Sally and I are able ... we have skills so that we can protect ourselves. Within limits. What we cannot do is protect you and ourselves. This evening, we are going to lock you in the cellar, with food, drink, books ... anything like that you like. Our visitors won’t be able to get at you, and if you position yourself against the near wall, they wouldn’t be able to shoot you, either. The peep-hole wouldn’t allow a weapon to sight on you. If something should happen to us, others will come and release you within a couple of days.”
She sagged against me, but responded, “Yes, Master.”
After a substantial lunch, Sally and I equipped ourselves for, potentially, twenty-four hours of guerrilla operations; combat dress (including Kevlar jackets) ghillie suits, rations, water, weapons. I felt, perhaps, less of a fake than before, but still hardly a combat veteran.
We separated. I can’t say I was happy about that, but it made sense. I was concealed among the trees within sight of the stile and main gate. Sally, similarly, was positioned among the woodland to the rear of the house. That was a longer range, but she had the Mannlicher. And the Boys*.
Cathalina
- 27.02.2020
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