Manhattan Kink: A Boxed Set

by Serafina Conti

  “Untie me,” Emily said. “Untie both of us. This scene’s done.”

  “I don’t think it’s done.”

  “I used the safe gesture. Here, I’ll safeword, too. Satis. Enough. Now it’s fucking done. Untie me.”

  Reluctantly, Andrew untied Emily. She stretched her arms and legs as he untied

  Amanda, who scuttled over to Emily and pressed against her, as if for protection.

  “You didn’t mind, did, you, Amanda?” Andrew said.

  “No, Master Andrew, but Emily said—”

  “Emily says,” said Emily, “that before you do something like pee in the mouth of my toilet slave, we have to talk it through, and if Amanda says it’s all right, and I say it’s all right, that’s when it’s all right. You don’t get to just do it.”

  “Why not?” Andrew said. “If you belong to me and she belongs to you, why doesn’t she, as your property, also belong to me?”

  Emily was exasperated. They’d settled this back in June without any argument: why was it coming up now? “We put it in the contract. Have you forgotten? Do we have to pull it out and read it together? You have no rights over Amanda except what I give you. And I haven’t given you this right. And what was this scene all about, anyway? It was weird. It was no fun.”

  “I thought you’d like it. I thought it would be clarifying.”

  “What needed clarifying?” Emily was incredulous.

  “Our hierarchy,” Andrew said. “The way our family is organized. Who leads and who follows.”

  “We all know who leads and who follows here. Do you think either of us has a problem with you as our Master? I chose you for my Master, and so did Amanda. But she and I have a relationship too. This felt like you didn’t want us to have that—like if the three of us played, Amanda and I could play with you, but not with each other. Like we were both just objects for you, not entitled to our own desires and needs.”

  “That’s the way I wanted it tonight,” said Andrew stonily.

  “Well, I didn’t like it. You seem to be good at finding my triggers lately. This is one: interfering in my relationship with Amanda. I told you that was off limits, and you agreed. I’m holding you to it.”

  Andrew stared at her blankly. She couldn’t read him. She had no idea where these strange new ideas of his were coming from: he’d called her horrible, degrading things, had deliberately made her safeword—the first time since the day they’d gotten back together, when she’d challenged him to do it—and now wanted to piss in Amanda’s mouth. He’d never wanted to do that before, and Emily was sure Amanda would welcome it—but you were supposed to talk these things out first. You weren’t supposed to spring big surprises in the middle of a scene.

  “And where do you go when you stay out all night? You know, this isn’t that kind of vanilla relationship where you’ve got to sneak around behind my back. You told me about Asoko, and I said great, I was glad. But I’ve got to know we’re safe. If you do things you don’t tell me about, I don’t know that. Maybe we’d better go back to condoms for a while, till you start to talk to me.”

  He still didn’t say anything. She could sense his irresolution. He wanted to confide in her, but was afraid it would make him seem weak—another strange idea. She decided she’d try to make him feel strong.

  She went to him, laid her hands on his chest, and looked up into his face. “Master,” she said, “I’m yours to command. Anything that’s within my limits and not prohibited by our contract. Anything. Command me.”

  He stared at her for a long time. She waited, hoping the crisis was past, feeling nervous.

  Finally he said, “You and Mouche go sleep in the other bedroom. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” He spun on the ball of one foot and stalked off towards the bathroom.

  Emily put her arm around Amanda, and they waited together for their turn in the bathroom. When Andrew had disappeared into the bedroom he usually shared with them, they took their turn.

  Emily said, “Are you disappointed I didn’t let Master pee in your mouth, baby?”

  “You were right to stop him, Emily.”

  “But you wanted him to.”

  “Yes, Emily. Was that wrong?”

  “No, baby.” Emily took a bath towel from the rack, folded it once, and laid it on the floor. “Lie with your head on this,” she said.

  Amanda lay down, and Emily squatted over her. She remembered the first time she’d peed at Amanda’s request—she’d done it in her dog bowl with three other people looking on. It had been almost impossible, she’d been so self-conscious. But since then it had gotten much easier. It was just a matter of remembering how important this was to her slave, who now licked her clean.

  Emily raised Amanda to her feet and kissed her lips—this was her way of telling her she wasn’t disgusting. Then she said, “Brush your teeth, honey,” and they took turns washing up and brushing their teeth.

  Usually, when they went to bed together, they snuggled for a while and then made love. But now Amanda sat cross-legged beside Emily, who lay on her side, head propped on one hand, and looked at her.

  “I’m worried about you, Emily,” said Amanda. “Master Andrew hasn’t been nice to you lately.”

  “He hasn’t been all that nice to you either,” said Emily.

  “But I have you to protect me,” said Amanda. “Who’ll protect you?”

  “I don’t know, baby,” said Emily. “I guess we’ll just have to look out for each other.” But Amanda was timid at the best of times, and now she was too scared of Andrew to be much protection to Emily.

  Amanda said, “Why isn’t he talking, Emily? You’re supposed to talk about scenes, all the ways you’re going to play, and he used to, but now he doesn’t want to.”

  “I don’t know, baby,” said Emily. “I think he’s talking to somebody, but it isn’t me. Not Mistress Ai, either. She wouldn’t tell him this crazy stuff.”

  “Maybe it’s the person he’s been seeing late at night,” said Amanda.

  “You’re probably right,” said Emily. “But who could it be?”

  “I don’t know.” They sat still for a minute, and then Amanda said, “Emily?”

  “Hmm, baby?”

  “Can I have an orgasm?”

  “Yes, baby.”

  Amanda reached for her pussy, but Emily sat up and said, “No, baby. I want to do it for you tonight.” She kissed her slave, laid her down on the bed, and delicately took her clitoral hood between her fingers.

  * * *

  Daddy was getting tireder and slacker every day. Tonight she had shuffled off to bed, telling them to put themselves in their cages. Pipit was a little sorry—she didn’t exactly like having her hands cuffed to the bars of her cage, but she did like being controlled by Daddy. It was nice, though, being able to make love to Neko and cuddle with her on the mat for a while.

  Pipit knew that Neko was in love with her—she could tell by the way Neko looked at her, deferred to her, and touched her whenever she could. She liked it that Neko loved her. She didn’t think she was in love with Neko, but she really liked her—the two of them had a lot of shared interests, and she was great to talk to and have sex with. Sometimes Pipit was sorry about getting her fired from her job, but really things were better now for both of them. They got to live together and share Daddy, who provided for them and was finding plenty of business for them. Neko was a little depressed about her whoring, but Pipit had thought of something that would cheer her up tonight.

  After they’d made love, Pipit turned to her and said, “Listen, honey. I’ve got something I want to talk to you about. You haven’t found anybody to sublet your apartment yet, right?”

  “No,” said Neko sadly. “I think I probably didn’t advertise enough. I think maybe it was because I couldn’t face it.”

  “Why don’t I sublet it?” said Pipit. “I’ve got a little money put away, and since Daddy takes care of us, I’m hardly spending any of what I make at Mistress Shigemi’s. It’s a great apartment,
the rent is pretty low, and . . . well, it’d be nice to have a place to get away to, for both you and me. We could play there together.”

  Neko brightened. “That’s a wonderful idea!” she exclaimed, and hugged Pipit enthusiastically. “We could nap on the beds,” she giggled. Neko wasn’t one for complaining, but Pipit knew she didn’t love sleeping in a cage.

  “It’d be like a secret getaway,” said Pipit.

  It would be nice to spend time there with Neko. But what Pipit really wanted to do with the apartment was see Andrew. He’d told her the night before, after he’d fucked her and Neko, that he couldn’t afford any more sessions. But there was more she needed to do with him—she couldn’t let him go yet. Besides, he was fit and good looking, unlike the other men she was fucking these days. Daddy wouldn’t let her see him for free, but she could see him at Neko’s place. She’d gotten his cell phone number from him. She’d get her own phone the next time she was out and arrange everything.

  “It’ll be our secret,” she said, and reached for Neko’s pussy. Neko got more beautiful every time Pipit looked at her: she loved her flat breasts, pointed nose, thin lips, skinny body, bottom and back crisscrossed with scars, and little scars here and there all over. Yes, Neko was definitely better off now. Pipit put her hands on Neko’s thighs, parted her legs, and pulled her pussy open like a flower. It was so beautiful. The mound and labia were so often red and welted—she must be sore all the time. Pipit lay between her legs and sank her lips into the hot pink inside of her.

  * * *

  Andrew got up at four-thirty, showered, dressed, grabbed a bagel from the kitchen, and headed out for the subway. He didn’t want to have a conversation about contracts and limits with Emily—not this morning. He was still too agitated. He needed to get off by himself and clear his mind. He’d hole up in Butler Library and think things over till it was time for class.

  He found a comfortable chair in one of the reading rooms and settled in with a cup of coffee and the Thebaid. Once the coffee was gone, he put the book aside and tried to think about his life. But life’s problems are less tractable than Latin grammar and the simplified human issues of epic poetry. Everything seemed so complicated: thinking about his three-way relationship with Emily and Amanda made him sleepy. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

  His phone woke him up at thirteen minutes after eleven.

  Chapter 8. No safeword

  “I’m so relieved you came,” Pipit said, and unbuttoned the top button of her silk blouse, loving the way Andrew was staring at her fingers. “I was scared you wouldn’t want to see me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want to see you?” he asked, still staring.

  “Because, you know, you paid me for sex.”

  “I paid you for being a submissive. It’s skilled labor.”

  “It didn’t feel right to take your money,” Pipit said, “the way I felt about you. I can’t bear the thought of you giving me any more money.”

  Sitting in the living room of Neko’s apartment, Andrew didn’t say anything to that. He seemed mesmerized by her opening her blouse, but she could sense below the surface his doubt, confusion, and guilt, all jumbled together. She saw that the things she was making him feel tormented him, and part of him wanted to flee, but he was a prisoner of his lust for both sex and power. His emotions were so immense and painful! She was getting drunk on them.

  She unbuttoned another button. “Daddy mustn’t know I’m seeing you,” she said. “She’d beat me horribly, nothing like our playtime whipping. Promise me you won’t tell.”

  “I won’t,” he said hoarsely.

  “And I’m not trying to take you away from Emily,” Pipit said. “I want to help you make your relationship with her stronger.” She watched his face as she unbuttoned the last button and peeled back the blouse. She wore no bra, but had on form-fitting black pants that revealed narrow strips of skin where they laced up the sides. She’d leave the pants on for now, to tease him. Beyond that, she didn’t have a plan. She just knew how she wanted to feel when it was all done, and how she wanted him to feel.

  She made her voice tiny and kittenish. “But you’re so overpowering,” she said; “Don’t you have a little of that power left over for me?” She went to her knees in front of him and reached for his belt buckle. “I need you to overpower me, Master.” She unzipped his zipper, unsnapped his pants, and pulled them down, freeing his cock and balls. She took his shaft in her right hand and held it up as she leaned forward and drew his balls into her mouth.

  She sucked them and stroked his cock, looking up to watch the lust grow in his face. “I need you so,” she murmured into his balls. “I need you to fuck me.”

  She licked his whole length, from the balls to the head of his cock, down again, and back. She looked into his eyes and whispered to the head of him, “Will you fuck me, Master?” Already knowing the answer—he was here, after all—she kissed his slit and let him watch her draw him into her so slowly it had to be torture: just the very tip, then her lips widening around the head, pausing to tease the sensitive underside with her tongue, then slowly, slowly pushing forward, making his pale shaft disappear between her lips, closing her tongue and palate tight around him. Then the head of his cock was in her throat, and her lips were in his pubic hair, and she knew her power over him was growing with every second, his resistance dissolving.

  “I’m not your Master,” he said weakly.

  Sliding a hand under his shirt to caress his stomach, she sucked him harder and deeper for an answer. He’d give in to her, and he would be her Master, in just seconds now—she could feel it in his cock and in his skin under her hands. When she felt his body relax and knew there was no more resistance in him, she let his cock slide out of her and kissed her way down to his balls.

  “Master,” she whispered. “Fuck me.”

  “Yes,” he breathed.

  “Bareback,” she went on. “I’m safe—I have my labs in my purse if you want to see.”

  “No, it’s okay,” he said, and she sighed with relief inside. It would have been awkward if he’d wanted to see it—she hadn’t been tested since January and never kept her lab reports anyway.

  “Master?” she said timidly.

  “Yes, Tosatsu?” he said.

  “I want you to make me helpless.”

  “What do you have?” he asked. “Rope? Cuffs?”

  “I’ll see,” she said. “We’ve got to use my roommate’s stuff.” She went to Neko’s room, rummaged in her drawers, and found two cuffs and a bottle of lubricant, but no rope. She looked in the closet, but there was only clothing there. She was about to give up when she got the idea of looking under the bed. There she found a little collection of wonderful things: shackles, chains, plastic tubs full of clamps, vibrators, gags, dildos, and butt plugs—and, most inspiring, a spreader bar with ankle cuffs on either end and two wrist cuffs in the middle.

  One of the butt plugs was crystal, luscious and pink. She peeled her pants down, lubricated herself and the plug, and eased it in. She dried her hands on the bedspread and pulled her pants up again.

  She took the bar and a ball gag back to the living room. She handed the bar to Andrew and said, “I’ve been a very bad girl, Master. I need to be punished.”

  “How’ve you been bad, Tosatsu?” he asked.

  “Don’t call me Tosatsu, Master,” she said. “Call me . . . slut. All the things you called me when I was that girl Becky—slut, whore, worthless cunt—I’m those things. I need you to punish me for being those things.”

  Needy and hot, she gazed into his eyes, put the ball gag into her mouth, and reached behind her to fasten the strap, raising her elbows up high to make her breasts rise towards him. Then she wriggled out of her tight pants, and since he might not know what to do with the bar, got down on her knees, rested her shoulders and one cheek on the floor, and extended her arms straight back under her, between her legs.

  Pipit loved the way her pussy and ass with the plug were exposed
to Andrew’s gaze. She loved the way he had to bend down close to her bottom to fasten the bar and cuffs. The plug would tell him what she wanted him to do to her. When he was finished, her ass was high, she couldn’t straighten her body, and she felt wonderfully vulnerable and scared.

  There was a pause—he had to be undressing—and then he pressed something into her right hand. She closed her fingers around it—it was a set of keys. Andrew said, “Your safe gesture. Drop these and I’ll hear.”

  She felt safer, and her fear subsided a little. But no! The intensity of the moment was draining away. On an impulse, she opened her fingers, turned her hand, and let the keys fall to the floor.

  “What’s this?” Andrew said. “Safe gesturing already?” He bent down and unfastened the gag. He was naked—she could see his erection. He said, “Do you want me to release you?”

  “No safeword or safe gesture,” she said. “I want your power over me to be absolute. I want to be helpless when you punish me.” She knew very well how stupid this was. It was insanely risky. Her fear was coming back: her head was swimming with it.

  “Your limits?” he said.

  “I trust you to respect them,” she said. “I need you to do what you want with your slut.”

  “Very well,” he said, and replaced the gag. She heard him pick up the keys, and they jingled as—she supposed—he put them back in a pocket.

  Now she’d done it. There was no turning back. Her body tensed with fear. But what could he do? This wasn’t a playroom with a closet full of whips: he had just his bare hands and his cock, and she longed for them both.

  But when the first blow came it wasn’t a hand—the pain was hot and sharp. Oh, fuck, she thought, how could she have forgotten his belt? Frederick had loved his belt. She’d been terribly afraid of it and had safeworded a couple of times when he’d gotten carried away while using it.

  “One,” he said.

  Now real fear surged in her. She squirmed and said “Ungh!” but couldn’t make a word around the gag. Not that she’d have safeworded—the pain wasn’t that bad, but it suddenly sank in what it meant that there was nothing in the world she could do to stop this scene.