Letters to Penthouse XXXII

by Penthouse International

  Once we got to the cabin, I let Nicole be in charge of him, and she ordered him to remove his clothes and get into high heels, stockings, and his cockring. She’d come armed with some of her own goodies, and I’d made sure Mark packed a well-stocked toy bag as well. We conferred while he changed in front of us, his cock already at half mast before he stretched the ring around it. We then jointly placed him in cuffs, laid him facedown and bound him securely to the hooks located at each end of the bed while I fished out a riding crop.

  Then Nicole left the room, and I couldn’t resist the sight of my slave spread out before me, so I began lashing his ass and thighs with the crop while he moaned and groaned. I knew he was loving every minute of it and becoming more excited as I exerted my power over him. My pussy was getting wet, aching with need as I strategically applied the crop, allowing him to kiss it when I took a break to let his skin cool off. I found his hard cock beneath him and gave it a single, teasing stroke, before moving my hand to his warm ass cheeks.

  I had just returned to beating him with the crop when Nicole came back in the room. To be honest, I had almost forgotten about her, so lost was I in disciplining Mark, but when she made her grand entrance, both of us gasped with delighted surprise. She was clad in nothing but a red garter belt with matching stockings and high heels, her hair swept up from her face. Her pierced nipples jutted out proudly and her clean shaven pussy glistened.

  I was in awe and I’m sure Mark was as well. We simply stared at her while she basked in our adoration. “I see that you’ve gotten our slave all warmed up for us, dear Laura,” she said, practically purring, her voice dripping with sex. Then she walked over and kissed me—not our usual peck on the cheek, but a full-on French kiss, with her tongue brushing hungrily against mine. Taken aback momentarily, I pulled away and looked deep into Nicole’s eyes.

  I knew Mark had to be staring at us as well. “Kiss me, Laura,” she urged, and I did, dropping the crop on the floor as I gave myself over to her mouth. Her hands were soon roaming along my body, and when she un-buttoned my blouse and ordered me to remove my skirt, I was powerless to resist. I slipped it down while she continued to kiss me and began tweaking my nipples. My plan to jointly top my husband had given way to my submission to my sexy friend. “Laura, get up on the bed next to your slave,” she ordered, and I immediately clambered onto it. There was nowhere to go except to climb directly on top of Mark, and somehow, I didn’t think he’d object.

  “Laura,” Nicole said in her husky voice as she pressed a finger against my slit, not yet putting it inside, “be my slave. Say yes,” she urged as she teased my opening with her finger. I was so wet I was amazed she didn’t slip right inside, but she was waiting for me to agree. When I whispered, “Yes, ma’am,” she rewarded me by pressing two fingers deep inside my hole. She finger-fucked me steadily while I writhed on top of Mark, whose cock I knew would’ve been totally hard even without the cockring. When her fingers curled in just the right place, pressing against my G-spot while she told me what a horny slut she knew I was, I came, gushing against her hand in one of the most powerful orgasms of my life.

  She pulled me up and kissed me again, making me taste myself as I sucked my juices off her finger, then she addressed Mark directly. “What did you think of that, Mark? How does it feel to know your wife is getting topped by me?” she asked, stepping right up to him so her luscious tits were in his face.

  “It made me totally hard, Mistress Nicole,” he said, automatically deferring to her power.

  “Good answer,” she said, patting his bald head. Then she reached for her own whip, a flogger made of rubber, while she handed me my crop. “You take that side, and I’ll take this one,” she said as we stood on either side of my prone husband, who squirmed in delight. I gave him a smile before taking the first whack. He cried out, saying, “Yes, please, more,” and that’s exactly what Mistress Nicole gave him. She rained blows up and down the right side of his ass and upper thighs, while I stuck to the left, both of us beating him thoroughly. Then she indicated that I should stop, and she delivered one final powerful blow, covering both cheeks.

  “Do you think you deserve to be rewarded, Mark?” she asked him.

  “If it pleases you, Mistress, I really want to come,” he said, a pleading note in his voice. She unstrapped him and took off the cockring, but made him leave on the stockings and heels, then ordered me to lie down on the bed, then pushed him on top of me. He started to fuck me, his cock ramming into me harder and harder. I suddenly heard the crack of her whip as it struck his skin. I’d underestimated Nicole, thinking she was done with her domination, but she couldn’t let such a ripe opportunity pass by. Each time she whipped him, he shoved his cock into me even harder, and I cried out, reaching for the headboard as his cock drove right into me. Her lashes spurred him on, which in turn made me buck against him.

  “You’re both mine,” she said, putting down the whip and climbing onto the bed with us, using her bare hand to smack Mark’s ass while she lightly tickled my arms with her fingernails. Both Mark and I exploded within seconds of each other while a proud Nicole looked on.

  Since then, she’s taken to coming over to our house and making both of us submit to her as a special treat. Doing so has transformed both my relationship with my husband and my relationship with my friend, and I couldn’t be happier.

  —Ms. Laura M., Cincinnati, Ohio

  Domme Convention Offers Devoted Slave a Chance to Prove His Worthiness

  I’m such a lucky man because not only do I get to serve Mistress Catherine, but if I’m very good, sometimes she loans me out to her domme friends, who can be even more demanding than she is. Recently, she took me with her to a domme convention. On the first day, she gave me a list of tasks to take care of before the evening. I scurried around, intent on getting everything done so that I could spend time with her and her sexy friends. Every time I walked through the hotel, my cock got hard from being surrounded by so many powerful women. They seemed to know exactly what kind of guy I was, as if they could read my innermost fantasies merely from glancing at me.

  After fetching her favorite flowers from the local florist, I had to take the elevator up to my mistress’s hotel room. It was a tight squeeze because it was already packed with imposing women. “Excuse me,” I said meekly as I shoved into the tiny space. I accidentally bumped one of them and she gave me a disapproving look.

  “Do you belong to someone, slave?” she asked, staring down at me. I was completely aroused but also regretful for having jostled her.

  “Yes, I belong to Mistress Catherine, ma’am,” I said.

  “Well, tell her that you need to be taught some manners!” With that, she brusquely pushed me to the side so I was no longer imposing upon her personal space. I held my breath until we reached my floor, only letting it out once I got off the elevator. When I got to my mistress’s suite, I hurriedly arranged the flowers in a vase, laid out her dry cleaning, and generally tidied things up in the way my mistress expected, then quickly jerked off because I just couldn’t stand the pent-up arousal any longer. If I lived in a home surrounded by strong, dominant women all the time, I think I would have a permanent hard-on.

  Finally, my mistress returned, chatting loudly with a group of women I’d never met, but whom she seemed to know well. She greeted me by offering me her arms to remove her bags, then her hand to kiss, before brushing past me. She didn’t even bother to introduce me to her friends, though I figured out their names from hearing them talk as I mixed them drinks from the minibar. As I poured and stirred, I tried to remain calm, even though I was picturing them enacting all sorts of wickedly erotic scenes.

  As they relaxed, I glanced behind me and observed that they’d all dressed in elaborate fetish costumes. Mistress Donna was wearing a skintight, full-length red latex dress, with a slit that showed off one leg, along with tall red heels. Her elegant black hair was swept up off her face, and her lips gleamed with the same color as her dress. In her hand, she held a
long cigarette holder and was puffing away, the smoke pluming from her lips as she exhaled. Mistress Samantha was Asian and more petite than the others, but no less severe-looking in a tight black dress, through which I could see her prominent nipples. Mistress Celia simply wore a black, low-cut top and black leather pants, but she exuded dominance nonetheless.

  I offered them their drinks, then Mistress Catherine patted a space by the floor. I dutifully sank to the floor, resting my head in my usual spot against her leg while she put her hand affectionately on my head and stroked my hair, petting me as she made conversation. Even though the women weren’t actually speaking to me, being in the presence of such raw female power had my cock as hard as a rock. I knew my mistress was aware of my arousal and I hoped she would let me lick her pussy, and perhaps even come later that night. When she noticed that Mistress Donna’s drink was running low, she let go of me and snapped her fingers in my face.

  “Slave, what are you waiting for? Go refill Mistress Donna’s glass immediately!” she ordered. Mistress Donna thrust her glass at me, empty except for a few half-melted ice cubes. As I was mixing her another drink, I heard the tinkling of a bell, which is my mistress’s signal for me to stop whatever I am doing and come directly to her.

  I immediately finished the drink I was mixing, wiped my hands, and returned to my mistress. “Slave, we need more ice. Go get some,” she said imperiously, as if trying to impress her friends. As I started for the door, she called me back. “Wait a minute. Ladies, don’t you think he’s wearing too much clothing?” She got a wicked grin on her face. “Strip down to your underwear,” she ordered. My cheeks flushed even as my cock hardened. She knows I’d do anything for her, and I wanted to prove myself a good slave, so I took off my clothes while all four women looked on.

  Their unyielding gaze caused me to fumble a bit with my shirt; the buttons seemed to get stuck, even though I was trying to complete the task as quickly as possible. Once I was down to my boxers and shoes, Mistress Catherine made me turn around. “Bend over and touch your toes,” she commanded. When I did, I felt a whack against my ass; her hand spanked each cheek once. “Look at what a fabulous butt he’s got,” she said proudly, and I beamed, even though they couldn’t see my face. “Maybe later I’ll let you take a crack at it,” she said to the ladies, then pinched my butt and shooed me on my way. I could hear their loud voices behind me as I exited, looking down the hallway left and right. I didn’t see anyone, so I hurriedly walked toward the ice machine. The idea that someone might see me was such a turn-on, especially because I was doing my mistress’s bidding.

  As I held the ice bucket in front of me to block my erection should anyone be strolling down the hallway, I told myself that men walked topless in hotels all the time. I got to the alcove with the ice machine and was grateful to find it empty. I took the bucket and placed it in the appropriate spot, then pressed the button. A loud rumbling noise issued forth as the ice tumbled into the bucket. I was excited to be the only slave in a room full of dommes and wondered what else was happening at the convention. Surely there were many powerful women who would know exactly what to do with a wayward slave. As I headed back to the room, I saw a tall woman dressed in head-to-toe purple latex coming toward me. She had to know exactly what was going on, and smirked as I knocked on my mistress’s door. My dick twitched as I felt her eyes on me while I waited for someone to let me in.

  Finally, Mistress Donna opened the door, pulling me inside and grabbing the bucket of ice. “What took you so long?” she barked as she stalked back inside. Even though I knew I hadn’t really taken longer than anyone else would have, I felt contrite, especially when I saw the look on Mistress Catherine’s face. She was in the mood to punish me, and I’m such a slut for being spanked, how could I object?

  “Now, slave, get over here,” she said. She never used my real name—to her, I was and will always be, simply, “slave.” Hearing her call me by my pet name made me even harder than I already was, and I quickly got into position on all fours. This meant only one thing—I was in for some punishment.

  Mistress Catherine leaned down and whispered softly in my ear, “Are you ready?” This was her way of making sure I was okay, yet another reason why I love and worship her. I nodded, and then I heard a loud clapping sound, followed by a whack upon my ass. I felt two hands slapping each of my cheeks, and knew that more than one woman was involved. They sounded like they were enjoying themselves, and then Mistress Catherine suggested they smack my bare ass instead. “I want to see his butt turn a pretty shade of red,” she instructed, and they followed her orders, like I always do, pulling down my skimpy little bottoms to bare my behind.

  While I was focusing on enjoying the sensation of being spanked by not just one but several mistresses—who were taking turns and using varying styles and degrees of force—Mistress Catherine knelt in front of me, showing me she had another treat in store for me—a bulging strap-on cock to suck. Usually, that was our private ritual, and I blushed in excitement, knowing they were all about to see what a good cocksucker I was. Even though there were only three new women in the room, it felt like the whole convention full of dommes was watching me as my mistress’s friends continued smacking me while I swallowed her cock.

  Mistress Catherine was humming in pleasure, going into the trancelike state she enters when I suck her cock. The base of the toy rubbing against her clit arouses her, and she delights in the physical sensation as well as in seeing me bobbing up and down on her shaft. We were both getting the best of both worlds, and I desperately wanted to come. My cock was hard, and I grunted around the dildo in my mouth. She reached down, tenderly stroking my chin. I gazed into her eyes as she held my face steady while her friends made my ass blush. She began jerking the cock against my mouth, grinding the base against her body as she brought herself to orgasm. “Suck harder,” she groaned, and I did as commanded while the whacks grew in intensity. The more I got spanked, the more effort I put into sucking her, until the two acts seemed to merge seamlessly, forming a smack/suck pattern that brought both of us bliss. Suddenly, she was crying out in orgasm, then she breathlessly granted me permission to come. I grabbed my shaft and shot my load after a few quick strokes.

  Mistress Catherine made me stay in that position while she surveyed her friends’ handiwork. She put her own hand on my ass, pressing the warmth back into my skin. “Very good, ladies,” she said, bestowing some hard-earned praise. She’s a tough customer and doesn’t dole out compliments easily. The women allowed me to stand, but made me continue serving them naked, with my flaccid cock hanging in front of me.

  When the dommes left later that evening, they allowed me to kiss their cheeks, and I was granted a pinch on my butt cheeks in return. Mistress told me I did so well that she’s thinking of taking me with her to the next convention, too, and may even loan me out to other mistresses. I’d do anything for her and look forward to many future adventures with my beloved mistress.

  —Mr. Frank P., via email

  Naughty Sub Gets Spanked When She Breaks Her Master’s Rules

  My master, Brendan, likes to put me in my place, which is serving and submitting to him. Ever since we moved from boyfriend and girlfriend to master and slave, I’ve been his permanent, on-call submissive. I love following his orders and love it even more when he “punishes” me by taking me over his knee.

  He likes to make up rules for me, ones that are fairly impossible to follow. It’s all an elaborate game because we both know that when I “mess up,” it’s just an excuse for him to spank me silly—something I truly adore. My ass tingles just writing down the words—and so does my pussy! Brendan’s the best spanker I’ve ever encountered; he can go for as long as I want him to, and he’s as excited about the prospect of taking his hand—or another implement—to my ass as I am.

  The deal we’ve struck is that he matches his spanking implement to the severity of my infraction. If it’s something tiny, like forgetting to put the milk back in the fridge, he’ll
use his hand. The other day, I not only left the milk out, but I also left some dishes in the sink from our pancake breakfast. That night, he made me wash them by hand, then took me upstairs afterward and made me apologize for being so messy while he swatted my bare ass.

  We both have a fondness for hand spanking because of the immediacy and sense of connection. Knowing that his skin is stinging in much the same way mine is when he’s done makes me all the more excited. This time around, he had me repeat, “I will put the milk away and wash my dishes,” with each slap, and if I didn’t say it fast enough, he’d hit me twice as hard the next time. I loved every second of it, my pussy tingling with desire the more his palm swatted my womanly curves.

  Eventually, he allowed me to stop speaking and I drifted off into silence with my lesson clearly learned. I felt his dick hardening beneath me as I wiggled on his lap. His cock is what usually trips him up in his role as the enforcer of my punishments, because we both know he gets just as turned on from spanking me as I do from getting spanked. But we both ignored our intense desire for the moment. His hand continued to rain blows onto my blushing behind, while I eagerly absorbed each and every one.

  Finally, when my pussy couldn’t take it anymore, I said, “I promise to always put anything I take out of the fridge back into it, and I’ll wash all my dishes when I’m done eating. Can I please have your cock now?” I knew he’d be unable to resist my charm, plus my wet cunt, which he’d already begun frantically fingering.