by Anthology
Geez, I’m glad she got her business sorted out, Reagan thought. It’s not like I’m just standing here bare-ass naked or anything.
She heard the distinct sound of the mistress’s boots click-clack their way across Evan’s bedroom floor, and then the duffel bag’s zipper echoed around the room. A brief buzzing sounded and then shut off.
Yessss, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. Reagan tried not to squirm as the mistress ran something solid and cool to the touch up the back of her thighs.
“Bend over and grab your ankles,” came the voice in her ear, and she shivered with anticipation. Leaning down, she held on to the black ankle straps of her heels and awaited the first touch.
Mistress J ran the toy down the back of Reagan’s spine and then farther…farther…until she felt it between the crease of her ass. Mistress kicked her legs open wider and then Reagan felt the toy probe against the tight hole of her—
“Wrong hole, wrong hole!” Reagan said, clenching her cheeks together. Jesus, isn’t it staring you in the face?
Mistress J slapped her ass. “This is the hole I want.” Then she pushed the toy back into Reagan’s resistant flesh, and the burning sensation as the unwanted object tried to pry its way in without proper lubrication had Reagan shooting up and covering her private bits with her hand.
“Whoa, buddy,” she said. “I’m all about having a good time back there, but that’s a helluva way to say hello.”
“Is there a problem?” Mistress J held up the flesh-colored butt plug. “It’s not that big.”
She stepped toward Reagan again, who put up her hands and said, “Lube. Lube would be good first.”
Mistress J stopped and frowned. “Oh. Right. Very well. Assume the position again.”
“Maybe I’ll just wait to make sure you find it okay.”
As the mistress rummaged through her bag again, the whistling of the teakettle filled the condo before quickly fading.
“This is good for you?” Mistress J said, holding up a pink bottle of lubricant. She popped open the cap, and the scent of red velvet cake filled Reagan’s nostrils.
“Much better.” Reagan smiled and then asked, “You sure you wouldn’t you prefer some front time playtime first?”
When Mistress J pursed her lips, Reagan faced the wall again and bent to grab her ankles.
Okay, so that plug looked a little bigger than the ones she and Evan had used before, and that had always been after quite a bit of foreplay. But dammit, she wasn’t a wimp, and she would take it like a champ. Provided that she was generous with the—
“Oh holy shit,” she cried out when the cold liquid hit her crack. “Did you stick that in the freezer first?”
“No. I did not.” Mistress J said, and though Reagan wasn’t facing the woman, she could’ve swore she had her teeth gnashed together. Mistress J sounded frustrated with her, but hell, it was like this was Reagan’s first damn rodeo, and honestly, if that were the case, having a butt plug that looked wider than Evan’s cock jammed up her ass suddenly didn’t sound so appealing.
“Stay as you are,” Mistress J said. “I need to…ahh…do something real quick.”
Reagan whipped her head around to watch the mistress in the window as she turned her back, but before she was fully facing away from her, she saw J reach in her corset and pull out that blasted cell phone again.
Are you fucking serious right now? Here I am with my ass in the air, the blood rushing to my face as I grip my ankles for dear life. Not to mention the view the neighbors across the way are getting of my hole—which thank God I bleached.
Yes, if one was adding up humiliating moments in life, standing bent in half while Mistress Incompetent made a fucking phone call was right up there.
“Oh. My. God.”
Yep, and now the humiliation was complete. Evan’s voice made it to her ears, and she reminded herself this was probably appealing to the kinky bastard, but then again, he hadn’t seen Mistress J try to pound her like a battering ram.
“I leave you alone for five minutes, Reagan,” he said, and through her legs she could see him walking back into the bedroom with a fucking teapot and cup on a tray like he was about to sit down to afternoon tea and cucumber sandwiches.
“Oh good, you’re back,” Mistress J said.
Reagan watched Evan’s feet come to a halt and then saw the heels of the mistress’s boots as she headed over to stand beside him.
“Your woman is very mouthy. You didn’t mention that during our phone call.”
Reagan wanted to defend herself, but at this stage she figured the fact that the woman being off her damn cell phone was a step in the right direction, and she wasn’t about to break the momentum.
“Now, when you say mouthy,” Evan said, “do you mean mouthy as in she’ll suck a dick like a Hoover, or mouthy as in she won’t be quiet?”
“As in she won’t be quiet.”
“Well, in my defense,” Evan said, and then placed the tray on the bedside table, “I thought it would be fun to watch you…rein her in. That’s your job, right?”
“It is,” Mistress J replied. “So go stand by her and strip. Scoot.”
“Gladly,” Evan said, as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and strolled over to his very naked, very delicious-looking girlfriend. “Lookin’ good, babe.”
Reagan glanced over at Mistress J, who was pulling items out of her bag, and then glared at him. “She tried to fuck me with no lube,” she whispered. “Even you know better than that.”
“Maybe she was just excited to get into that tight little asshole.” He ran his hand over the smooth skin of her rounded cheek and then gave it a smack.
“No touching,” came the voice behind him. “And you still have your clothes on. That’s going to cost you.”
Evan kicked off his shoes and gave the mistress a smirk. Then he slipped his shirt off and unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the ground.
“Better?” he asked.
She placed a cereal-type bowl and a package of straws on his dresser before going back to the bag and pulling out a lethal-looking flogger.
Reagan leaned toward him. “Uh…what the hell is she planning to do with hot water, a bowl, and some straws?”
“How would I know?”
“Really? Mr. Ziploc Bag? Don’t tell me you’re not into some weird shit,” she said.
“I can honestly say I’ve never used any of that before. In the bedroom, anyway.”
The sting of the flogger against his thigh snapped his focus away from Reagan and had him cursing. “What the hell?” he asked.
Mistress J looked between the two of them and shook her head. “Since neither of you take direction very well, I think I’ll have to make you. On your knees, both of you.”
Evan raised an eyebrow at Reagan, who looked like she was about to protest, but then she looked down to his thigh and the redness spreading across it and chose to lower to her knees instead.
Once they were side by side facing Mistress J, she said, “Very wise decision. Now. Clasp your hands out in front of you. Fingers interlocked.”
Evan immediately complied, his cock twitching at the command. Hell, the woman had been overzealous at first with Reagan, but maybe she’d been a little nervous. Now, she seemed to be in complete control. Well…at least he thought she was.
“Shit, one second,” Mistress J said. She then turned away and scurried across the bedroom to the bag again. Evan frowned as he watched her go, and when he looked to Reagan, her eyes were wide as saucers in a See? kind of expression.
“Where did you find this woman? I don’t think she has a clue what she’s doing. She keeps getting on her phone—look.”
Indeed, there was Mistress J on her phone…texting someone. Evan was about to speak up when he saw her stash her phone back in her cleavage and put what looked like a vibrator in the back of her skirt. She then grabbed some rope and headed back in their direction.
She stopped in front of them, and as soon as Reagan saw what was in her h
and, she said, “Rope?”
Mistress J gestured to Reagan’s arms. “What did I say about your mouth earlier?”
“You told me to shut it.”
As the mistress began winding the rope around Reagan’s wrists, Evan watched on in silence. He wasn’t sure what it said about him that he was thoroughly enjoying this badass dominatrix tying up and reprimanding his sassy, wicked woman, but yep…he sure as hell was. His cock was now upright and ready to fucking play.
“That’s right,” Mistress J said. “But since you seem incapable of following that order, I’m going to give you some incentive to keep your pretty lips shut.”
Oh fuck yes, Evan thought, dying to know what the terms of this little game were going to be.
As Mistress J finished securing the restraint, she took Reagan’s chin in her hand, tilted her face up, and bent to brush her lips over Reagan’s cheek to her ear, and Christ almighty Evan had to unclasp his hands and grip his cock. That is fucking hot.
“From now on,” Mistress J said loud enough so he could hear, “every time you open your mouth to do anything other than moan, sigh, or scream, I am going to flog your boyfriend over there.”
Wait…what? Evan’s erection deflated somewhat at that little announcement.
“Do you understand?” Mistress J said directly in Reagan’s ear.
Reagan turned her head to look at him, and when a devious smile curved her lips, even the threat of a whipping wasn’t enough to stop his arousal. That clearly solidified him as fucking insane, and his girlfriend too, because then she responded with a “no”—guaranteeing his first flogging.
The tails of the flogger whipped against his other thigh, and when he grunted, both women fucking smiled.
Okay, it’s not that bad. Hell, he’d done worse to himself.
“Mistress, can I have another?” he asked with a wink, and she obliged by snapping the whip again in the same spot.
“Now your hands,” the mistress said, and when he put his hands out in front of him, she shook her head. “Behind you.”
“Trying to render me useless and at your mercy?” he asked.
Mistress J raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment, and Evan turned around and put his hands behind his back.
Panic set in as Reagan watched the mistress tie Evan’s hands together. “Wait, wait, wait. She can’t tie up both of us. What if she goes rogue and steals all our shit?”
Evan gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I know how to get out of these things.”
“I fucking hope so.” And then under her breath, she said, “I better start feeling some pleasure soon.”
Mistress J’s hand went to the back of her skirt, and when she brought it back around in front of her, she held up a monster-size, neon-pink cock. With a flick of her finger, the vibrator began to buzz, and Reagan nodded enthusiastically. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” she said, and spread her knees wider. When mistress dropped down to the ground to join her, she picked up the bottle of lube she’d used earlier and coated the vibrator with the liquid. Reagan licked her lips in anticipation until the mistress aimed the lube toward her pussy and squirted a steady stream that soaked her entire pelvis.
What…the shit.
But before she could voice her complaints, the vibrator was on her, rubbing against her slit. Her breath caught in her chest, and next to her, Evan let out a groan as he watched. His long, thick cock jutted out like it was dying for attention, but with his hands tied behind his back, there was no way to relieve the ache.
Perfect torture for my man…
The vibe moved against her like a damn slip and slide, too slick to stay where she most needed it, a.k.a. her damn clitoris. Mistress Incompetent had slicked her down like a jammed door that needed extra WD-40.
This is getting ridiculous.
As the buzzing continued, Reagan tried in vain to lift her hips and direct the vibe where she wanted, but it was no use, and just as she was about to mention that tiny little fact, Mistress J reached around the back of her skirt and pulled out a sleeve to slide over the top of the vibe. Reagan’s eyes widened when she saw the little rubber nubby spikes, and she hoped like hell that the soft points would add the extra traction needed to keep the toy in place.
When the mistress had the vibe ready, she gave Reagan an evil grin and crooked a finger at her.
“Come closer,” she said.
Reagan rose up on her knees and shuffled close enough that any farther and she would be straddling Mistress J’s lap. She looked into the woman’s eyes and was hoping that after all was said and done, the woman would lower the vibe, rub it all over her, and get her the fuck off while Evan watched.
But yeah, I should’ve known better…
Mistress J brought the vibe up in front of Reagan and her mouth parted, as if she was about to say something, and then…well, then all fucking hell broke loose. Before Reagan could work out how, her beautiful curls which she’d spent a goddamn hour styling for this evening were tangled all the fuck up in a toy that was supposed to be giving maximum pleasure, not intense pain.
“Reagan?”
She heard Evan’s voice but was too busy shouting, “Oww!” Reagan jerked her head forward to try and ease the pulling on her scalp, but that didn’t help because the brainiac holding the blasted thing was now yanking the vibrator her way. “Stop fucking pulling on it,” Reagan said.
The mistress put her hand on Reagan’s forehead and continued to tug. “Keep your—”
“So help me God, if you tell me to shut my mouth before I have this the fuck out of my hair…” Reagan aimed her eyes up at the woman who had a death grip on the vibrating device. Mistress J obviously decided the threat of death was a real one, because she shut her mouth and listened.
“Switch the damn thing off.”
God, when did I become the one in charge tonight? Evan better give me the check at the end of this debacle.
Mistress J switched it off, and as the humming stopped and silence fell around the room, Reagan thought she caught a chuckle behind her.
Oh no he isn’t…
Reagan glanced over her shoulder to where Evan was still kneeling, hands secured behind his back and a stupid-as-shit grin on his fool face.
“Karma,” he mouthed at her. Reagan narrowed her eyes on him, and he was smart enough to clamp his teeth down on his bottom lip.
She then looked back to the woman still holding the vibe, which was tangled in her hair like a curling iron. “If you don’t mind, how about you go work on him while I go and wipe myself off.”
“Don’t you want me to—”
“Oh no. You have done quite enough to me for the night. From here on out, you can do things and also have me do them to him. Capiche?”
Mistress J stared Reagan down, and then let go of the vibrator and got to her feet. The toy hung heavy and pulled at Reagan’s scalp, and with a grumble, she managed to put her foot underneath her and push herself to a standing position, but goddamn if the floor didn’t move under her fucking feet. The ocean of lube that’d been poured all over her dripped steadily on the hardwood, and her stiletto skated, trying to find purchase. Slowly, she put her weight on her leg and tried to stand, but the thin heel of her shoe slipped from underneath her, and she fell ass first back on the ground.
“Are you fucking kidding right now?” she cried, struggling to sit up. Great. Now there was lube in her hair, all over her back. Her legs were sliding around in it. So fucking gross. She lifted her arms to move the hair sticking to her skin out of her face and only proceeded to make herself even more of a hot mess.
And Evan’s stupid-ass chuckling wasn’t making things any better.
“Aw babe, don’t be like that. You look sexy with your hair all tangled and uh…full of cock.” He winked at her. “And you know how much I love you on your back…”
“Are you enjoying this right now?” Reagan said. “I should have her castrate you. Hell, at this rate, she might.”
“Silence!”
Mistress J’s voice echoed off the walls, and had them both shutting their mouths. For the moment, anyway.
“You sit there like a good girl while I take care of Evan here,” mistress said as she poured the water from the teapot into the cereal bowl.
Reagan rolled her eyes. “Not like I can get up anyway.” And I smell like a damn cupcake.
“That’s okay,” Evan said, smirking at her. “I’m up enough for the both of us.”
Oh holy shit, Reagan thought as she watched the mistress coming around to the front of Evan. Not for long…
Evan’s eyes were on his disheveled hellcat who was…was…now looking over his shoulder in alarm. What the—“Motherfucker!”
Mistress J had laid a firm hand on his chest and pushed him until his shoulders were touching the wall, making his thighs spread for balance as she slid the cereal bowl full of hot water under his ball sac. Before he could think more than the curse word he’d just shouted, the crazy bitch had her head down over his wilting cock with a straw inserted in the bowl, blowing like she was inflating a motherfucking balloon.
Evan tried to scramble back, but he had nowhere to go as the effervescence of the hot bubbles had him cringing and looking to Reagan for some fucking help.
Reagan’s eyes were huge as she took in the unbelievable scene happening to him, and then when they managed to lift from what the hell was going on to meet his, Evan said, “Fucking do something!”
Reagan scrambled, bare-assed, to her knees, and had this been any other part of him bar his fucking balls on the line, he may have found the situation immensely hilarious…but it was his balls on the line, and they were currently losing the ability to produce sperm with the heat that they were being drowned in, and all he could think was, Swim, fuckers, swim for your life!
“Hey, lady!” Reagan shouted, but Mistress J had apparently lost her hearing along with her damn mind, because she was still down there blowing away on her cauldron of crazy.
“Lady!” Reagan shouted again, and finally Mistress J raised her head.
She didn’t, however, free his boys.
“When your sub is shouting motherfucker, that’s a sign he is not happy to continue. Though considering you didn’t even ask us for a safe word, you probably don’t even know that. Take my guy’s balls out of your bowl. Now.”