“Sorry to lay this all on you, first day, but it’s the machinations of Mansion politics. You don’t get eighteen beautiful, ambitious women together without some infighting.” Switching gears, she kissed me, and spoke again quietly. “We must go, so as not to keep Master waiting, but we will get reacquainted later, I promise.” She gave me a big doe-eyed look, sexy and wanting, and I knew she meant it.
As we scooted out the entryway, Gail asked if I had found anything special in my room.
“You mean the straps all over, the secret X-cross torture room, brass dildo in the tub, Y pole on the balcony, and the false headboard. No, I didn’t notice any of them.” Grinning ear to ear, I took her hand as we hit the spiral stairway. There was no greater reward to me than to watch Gail’s red and yellow lights blink in harmony as we trundled downstairs.
Two to Serve
Chapter 5: Teething on Cock
As Gail and I were walking down the huge front-room staircase, Alicia and Angel were coming up. I watch the lovely pair and did a double take when I saw that they were indeed bound together. Alicia’s right wrist and Angel’s left were cuffed, and while the cuffs themselves were metal, the link between them was some sort of strong, stretchable, rubber. Perhaps it was intended as symbolism. This pair could be stretched apart, but not broken.
When the sienna-haired girl looked up, she smiled and pulled her pair forward with wild enthusiasm. Their faces flush with excitement, the two lush young women approached me, and Gail whispered in my ear. “They’re quick, and you’ll enjoy, so go with what they want, Jen. If you don’t indulge them now, they will simply pursue you endlessly.”
Alicia was speaking almost before Gail was done, her voice alive with wanton desire. “Jennifer, Angel and I must taste you. We taste everyone, and we simply must drink your girl juice. Please say yes, as we so want to pleasure your holes.” She reached out and touched my intimate lips. “And it’s such a pretty pussy.”
How could I turn down such a stimulating plea from two nubile, young goddesses? Taking Gail’s lead, I responded with what I thought was an intelligent question.
“I would be happy to play with you girls, but shouldn’t we do it later, when we have more time?”
Alicia and Angel giggled like schoolgirls, and looked at Gail. When Alicia spoke, I began to completely understand the casualness of sex between Mansion slaves. “There’s time enough for a taste, right Gail?” She smiled as Gail nodded that there was, and I had the feeling I would be in bliss quite shortly.
“Spread your feet wide apart and lean against Gail, for support.” Alicia turned her head to her pair. “You want the rosebud first, lover”
Angel’s reaction was immediate, betraying the lust in her bisexual heart. While I spread my legs to give unrestricted access to my intimate orifices, Angel dropped to her knees and crawled between my spread legs. Before I really understood what would happen, Angel spread my punished bottom cheeks and began lustily lapping my crinkled hole.
Alicia’s head dipped, planting a kiss on each of my tender nipples. “My Angel likes bottom holes, and you will enjoy her tongue in yours.” Her words came out slow and sensuous, a seductress skilled beyond her years. Without delay, she too dropped to her knees, and her tongue found my slit.
It took only moments for me to writhe in pleasure under these twin female tongues probing and squirming deep in my holes. Angel’s tongue felt alive, squirming in my bottom hole like a pleasure worm, while Alicia tongue fucked me as no one ever had.
“Switch.” Angel called out, and the pair executed a move obviously well - rehearsed by them, but a complete surprise and pulsing pleasure to me. They brought their cuffed hands up and inserted fingers into the opposite holes than the one they had been licking. Suddenly Angel had three fingers deep in my slave cunt, as Alicia stretched my rectum with two of her digits. The rubber connector between their cuffs now sawed back and forth between my holes, nearly sending me into climax. It was a new feeling, and I had to admit it was a wonderful one. Leaning heavily against Gail, as my own legs were quivering so hard, I rolled my eyes to a first spend.
Yet the Alicia/Angel experience was not over, and in another ballet of coordinated movement, they switched places. Angel, now in front of me, flicked my sensitive bud lightly with her tongue and maintained her three fingers buried deep in my cleft. However, it was Alicia who would fire my second orgasm by stretching my asshole to a gape and slipping her whole tongue.
Bending forward toward Angel to offer more of my bottom hole to Alicia, I planted my face against Gail’s soft mounds. “Ohhh, this is so good, girls. Never been . . . never before.”
Never completing the sentence, I melted into a second thundering orgasm brought on by Alicia’s mind-blowing ass fuck. When I came to my senses, two faces stared happily at me, one platinum-framed, and the other grinning sienna. They licked their fingers greedily of my juices, and Angel spoke.
“Alicia and I definitely want to feast on you again, Jennifer. Can you come to our room, say this coming Thursday night? Perhaps, you can bring the first slave with you?”
Spent and delirious, I looked up at Gail’s face for direction. Thankfully, Gail took over for me, making a decision I seemed incapable of making. “It sound’s good, but I must check with Master, we will get back to you. Sorry, but we have to run now, to serve Master.”
Having almost forgotten, where we had been going, I tested my shaky legs and walked hand in hand with Gail to the bottom of the stairway. Deep in thought and racked by sexual satisfaction, I wondered what Donna was doing now. I hope she’s having this much fun.
Gail led me to the back area of the massive, mirrored front room, walking right toward the back wall as if it were not there. Reaching out, she stooped to open a small door near floor height which resembled for all the world a doggie door. “This is the slave entrance to the Victorian Room. Master has his own entrance, a normal door, but slaves crawl in on their bellies.” Pointing at the perhaps eighteen-inch-high door, she asked. “Would you like to enter first, or follow me?”
Somewhat stunned, I wondered how much of this huge house was secret, known only to those who served and were served. “I’ll follow, Gail. Will Master be there already?”
She nodded and got to her knees, adding more. “We best hope we are not past our time, or we will be punished for our tardiness before the Game.” Dropping down on her belly and breasts, Gail squirmed into the door, writhing like a serpent.
The Game? Whatever is the Game? An uneasy feeling came over me as I realized how truly inexperienced I was. Quickly, I got to my belly and snaked along after Gail, excitement pulsing through me to directly serve my Master in his home, for the first time. I must not fail or look foolish.
Once inside this secret room, I saw we had traveled back in time. It was a faithful recreation of a nineteenth-century study of some landed earl or baron. Old, but well preserved, books lined shelves on all four walls. The walls themselves were simulated stone, giving it a castle keep feel. A huge stone fireplace crackled and roared in the center of the room, but when I knelt next to it beside Gail, I realized it gave off no heat. Green glass lamps provided the light by which I saw Master, sitting on a sofa not twelve feet from where we knelt. Beside the sofa, a small table held four thick books piled upon one another. Master’s hand snaked out and deposited a fifth volume on the top of the stack.
“Just in time, pretty pets. Another two minutes and you would have been tardy. Yet, I thank you for rescuing me from Voltaire. He is brilliant but grates on you after a time. Surely you two can provide more stimulating entertainment.”
Master stood and I had all I could do to repress a gasp. Costumed in the old-style breeches with buttons, and a white lace ruffled shirt, he looked the period in a magnificent, royal purple waistcoat. Had he been a lord, and I a lady, I would have wed him in a heartbeat. But instead, Gail and I would be his wenches.
“We will teach Jennifer the first part of the Game today, Gail. You will be in the pleasu
re position.”
“If it pleases you, Master. We have no other purpose.” Gail’s voice betrayed excitement, and something more.
“Show the novice her proper position and then assume yours.”
Gail and I crawled to him, and Gail got her hands on me to position me properly. When she was finished, I was still on hands and knees, my face pushed up against Master’s crotch. His breeches were still buttoned, so as of yet, the duty I seemed positioned to perform was not possible.
With no word of warning to me, Gail rose and straddled me, sitting her warm bottom down just below on my shoulder blades. As I adjusted to her weight, she gave me all of it, sprawling back to lie upon my back, her head over my butt. Holding her legs in the air, she spread them wide, using her hands to hold them open. It seemed as clear to me what would be expected of us. Gail with her slave cunt presented to Master openly, would be feasted upon, while I bore her weight and sucked Master’s cock. It feels like Gail and I are one slave now.
“Now Jennifer, the Game is for two slaves and one Master or Mistress. It is a way to build pairs, by encouraging sacrifice for your pair mate. There are two slave positions, the pleasure position, Gail’s, which only feels pleasure, and the service position, yours, which only toils and feels pain. Do you understand so far?” He really did want me to understand, to know why things would be as they were.
“Yes, Master, perfectly.” I looked up at him, and he smiled his approval.
“Quick to learn, as I knew you would be. Your mouth will be, simply put, a receptacle to store and maintain the hardness of my erection. There will be no fulfillment or pleasure in the Game for you, as your job is to keep me hard and to hold Gail up so I may bring her pleasure.”
It did sound onerous, but I was so anxious to serve, to prove my mettle, I would have done anything. Feeling him pat me on the head, I watched his hand unbutton his breaches to expose his partially erect cock to me. Then he leaned forward, and I heard Gail gasp, and I knew she had been penetrated.
“Take it in, all the way, and get it hard.” His words were a command, spoken as one might to a dog, as his attention was focused entirely on Gail.
Taking his manhood into my throat, I worked Master to full stiffness. Thinking about letting the shaft go a moment, so I could lick Master’s balls, I was thankfully interrupted by further instruction.
“Now that you have me hard, slave, you are not permitted to disengage from my cock. If you let loose of my shaft, or make me come, the Game ends, your pair stops getting her pleasure, and your punishment ensues.”
Now I saw so clearly why it was called the Game. How long would I, could I, suffer for Gail’s pleasure? I could feel Gail squirming and jerking to her pleasures on my back as Master devoted himself to her hole. It was almost like being inside her, but not.
Truth be told, I was frightened. An accomplished cocksucker, I have no problem with deep throat, or swallowing semen, but nursing a cock, keeping it hovering hard between softness and climax, that was scary. There was no goal, no reward.
“Gail, give your future pair your best advice on her situation, as you have been there many times.”
Gail seemed to slip into a first orgasm as Master spoke, as I could feel her quivering on my back.
“Oh, yes, Master, teething is the best way. When Master is close to climax, bite up and down his shaft lightly. This will soften his erection somewhat.” This seemed a stopgap method at best, for once Master’s hard rod was in my warm, wet throat, he would eventually come, unless my limbs gave out first.
“One more thing, slave. Regardless of how long you hold out, you will be punished when the game ends. The service slave is always punished, but each orgasm your pair mate experiences will lessen your punishment. So, steel yourself and work hard.”
My Master said no more, and all I heard over my own choking on spittle was Gail’s soft moans and breathy gasps. Clearly, this was not a sprint for me; it was a marathon. When my arms, shoulders, and back got weary and aching, I began to understand what pure mental fortitude and blind obedience would be required of me. Soon, every twitch and spasm of Gail’s body brought fresh aches and readjustments of my position. Yet, her writhing and quivering only increased as our Master feasted on her hole with tongue and fingers. This Game spans the spectrum of slave experience, from wild pleasure to mindless toil with aching pain.
It is by no means easy to keep a penis in that rigid state between softness and climax. A game of diminishing returns, as I soon realized, finding myself slipping into a horrible cycle that was easy to see ending in disaster.
Sucking and bobbing my head on the shaft to maintain its hardness, I mixed in some of the light teething Gail recommended. At first the teething seemed to be a negative agent, backing the rigid flesh away from climax, but soon it turned traitor to me and championed climax. This left me with shorter and shorter time periods that I could work the cock before I felt the swell, or tasted precum, or detected a rapid rise in my Master’s breathing. Then my only hope was to stop and let the erect shaft simply lay in my mouth. For me, this was exquisite torture, to have a stiff pole in my mouth that I could not suck.
How long did it go on? I have no clue. The room had no clocks, and I was not in a position to see much but my Master’s groin. In that state of suspended time, I relied on Gail’s orgasms as a clock of sorts. I figured on two or three quick ones in perhaps the first twenty minutes or so. Then, I figured it would take her at least fifteen minutes per to get over the clitoral sensitivity she must be feeling. So, as she shuddered out a seventh spend, I figured we had been there close to an hour. Her seventh orgasm was herky-jerky, putting more tension on my screamingly sore muscles, but I forgave her, as no doubt she was intensely clit sensitive.
More from will than anything else, I lasted until she came an eighth time. Then my quivering, strained muscles collapsed, and Gail scrambled to get off me. Wondering how other slaves, particularly Gail, did on their first time, the outright look of amazement on Gail’s, and to an extent Master’s face, told me I had done more than passing well. Both of us got to our proper kneeling position, and Master stood up, his stiff erection waving in the air. “Finish, Gail.”
Gail rose to an erect position but still on her knees, and she tapped me and motioned for me to do the same. Master’s rigid cock was now waving in my face, and Gail took hold on the shaft and began to stroke it vigorously.
I am to be christened with Master’s semen. Smiling and happy like a devoted slave, I waited the short time it took for Gail’s skilled fingers to make Master spurt all over my face.
“It seems we have some wonderfully devoted new talent in the house, right?”
From the look on Gail’s face I could tell Master was speaking of me.
“Yes, Master, she seems almost perfect, a joy to be with.” Gail was spent, her voice said so, but I cherished her words of praise. Master patted both our heads, running opposite fingers through blonde and raven tresses.
“Look where she has started, with no training, or even beforehand knowledge of the Game. How many orgasms did Andrea have when you first served as her support?” Master’s tone changed between sentences, pride in the first, playfully mocking in the second.
Have I set Master’s expectations of me too high? What more will he expect when next we play the Game?
“Andrea got four orgasms riding me, Master.” Gail’s tone sounded defensive, and I would have put money on her violet light at least being on.
“And you had?” Master’s query was poking, meant to force Gail to confront the fact I was further along my first time than she was.
Please, Master, don’t embarrass her. It is not important to me.
“Eight, Master.” Gail’s reply was soft, as her memory was still strong.
“Explain the punishment sequence to Jennifer. I grant her choice of tool.”
“ The base punishment is fifty strokes of cane, crop, or singletail, usually Master’s discretion, but he has yielded the choice to you.
For each orgasm the top girl experiences, four strokes are deducted, hence you have thirty-two strokes deducted, leaving you to feel only eighteen.” Now Gail sounded proud of me, but she surprised me by continuing on. “May this slave take Jennifer’s strokes for her, Master? She did so well, I should take her punishment for hers.”
Master’s response was quick and angry. “No, and you should know by now not to ask such a thing. It would ruin the principles of the Game. The bottom slave must suffer for the pleasure of the top slave; otherwise, the point is lost. The bottom slave’s lesson is most important. Blind obedience under pained and stressful conditions can sometimes earn only punishment, and any fulfillment must be found inside, in the heart of her submission.” He paused a while and reached to play with my breast, giving only pleasure.
“What have you learned, Jennifer, in your own words.”
Thinking quickly, I decided the simplest answer was best. “Being the bottom slave is what submission is all about. Giving yourself for the pleasure of another. I don’t think that can be experienced from the top.” My answer was true to me, but I waited on pins and needles, wondering if Master would like it.
“When we play again, do you wish to be top, or bottom?”
“Bottom, Master, until I earn the top.” It was true. I did wish to be bottom again.
“For you punishment, how will you take your strokes?”
Caning was out of the question, and Amelia had cropped me earlier, so I would take the singletail. “Please, Master, whip this slave.”
“Well spoken, raven one, and well decided. You shall have eighteen with the tail, but first, ten cane strokes for Gail, for foolishness.” It was I who gasped at Master’s announcement of Gail’s surprise chastisement.
“Both of you, crawl to the fireplace, punishment will commence there.”
When we arrived at the heatless fireplace, I noticed things there I had not noticed before, perhaps because I had not been looking for them. There were two bolts in the floor in front of the mantle, fitted with leather ankle cuffs. When Master arrived, he pulled down two slats on the mantle, revealing leather wrist cuffs. Gail assumed a legs and arms spread position, her hands gripping the oak of the mantle, and Master secured her. Gail seemed emotionless, with none of her collar lights lit, and I wished I knew what was going on in her thoughts.
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