by L. L. Chance
When he drug his fingernail over my labia and across my clit, it was the final straw, and I collapsed, screaming in the release of my pent up passion, no longer caring about what it meant. I might’ve collapsed and fallen into the stream if he hadn’t held me up, since my entire world had been reduced to the limitless waves of ecstasy radiating out from my loins.
He helped me to my knees as it passed and held me tight until I recovered. I didn’t know what to think, but I vaguely realized that even though we hadn’t actually had sex, a major barrier had been breached.
Once I was close to normal again, he helped me to my feet and directed me to return to the house. My arms were still trapped behind my back and I had to step out of my skirt, but I followed his instructions anyway. He was teaching me something I desperately needed, and I couldn’t bring myself to end the lesson if my life depended on it.
He kept a firm hold on my arms as we walked back to the house, but I couldn’t have said what happened on our return trip; I was in a complete daze. He guided me inside and down into his basement office, where we had a prime view of Sylvia working over Claire.
Holding my arms up, he sat me down in a chair, and when he released my arms, I found they were over the backrest, which kept me pretty much stuck there unless he helped me up. He turned the chair so I was facing the two-way mirror, and pulled up a chair behind me.
“We arrived at an excellent time,” he said, leaning over my shoulder. “Watch how Sylvia is slowly driving Claire to the brink of insanity with her relentless ministrations.”
It took me a minute to figure out what he meant, but I saw Sylvia was slowly running her riding crop between Claire’s legs, and each little bump in the crisscrossed leather had to be tormenting her clit.
Claude reached around with both arms and began stroking my groin, with the fingers on each hand just barely outside my moist folds. My panties were completely drenched at this point, and the wet silk only amplified the feeling of his relentless fingers.
The fire in my loins was almost out of control again, but we weren’t alone, and I couldn’t let myself cum with only a thin piece of mirrored glass separating us from Sylvia and a complete stranger.
“Please… stop,” I begged him.
“Don’t you want to come?” he asked.
“Yes… I mean no... I mean, I can’t,” I floundered. “They’ll hear me,” I finally finished.
“Ah, you think your release will be embarrassing when you climax and make some untoward noises. There is a simple solution to your problem, if you stop and think about it.”
His fingers never stopped their assault, and while I had a hard time thinking, I knew what he meant.
“Gag me,” I desperately asked, no longer even trying to pretend I didn’t want my release.
I don’t know where it came from, but he held a bright red ball suspended from two black leather straps in front of my face. I eagerly opened wide and took it in without a fuss, leaning forward to let him buckle the strap easier.
Being free to vocalize my whimpers and moans seemed to set my soul on fire, and even the slightest brush of his fingertips over my sensitive nipple or pussy seemed amplified completely out of proportion to what seemed possible. Even if my arms weren’t trapped over the chair back, I couldn’t have moved if my life depended on it.
I was completely under his control… submissive and uncaring, my entire existence depending on his whims. In a small corner of my mind I was still ashamed with myself, but that little piece of sanity was slowly disintegrating under his expert touch. It wasn’t long before it was completely gone, and only the fleeting touch of his fingers was left.
When I saw Claire explode into orgasm, my mind went blank and I joined her with a climax of my own. Never before had I experienced sensations like this, and I might never again. My eyes rolled up in my head and I began thrashing wildly, Claude’s strong arms barely able to contain my gyrating body.
He held me firmly until I collapsed in exhaustion, only then removing the belt from my arms and leaving me to recover on my own. With my arms still stuck over the back of the chair, it took me several minutes before I could stand and free myself, and several more before I felt able to make a run for the safety of my room.
When I finally mustered up the courage to make the dash, I did it with one quick burst of energy that left me ready to collapse the moment I closed my door, and only then did I realize I still had the big ball trapped in my mouth. It took forever for my shaking hands to open the little buckle holding it in place, but I eventually succeeded and let it fall to the floor.
I drew a bath, crawling into the tub the moment the water felt right, letting it slowly wash away my sins. What was I becoming?
Billy the Goat
It took me a long time to realize the incessant knocking I was hearing wasn’t inside my head, but was actually coming from the bathroom door.
“Yes?” I finally said.
“Dinner will be ready in one hour,” Billy said. “Does Ma’am need any assistance getting ready?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” I shouted, unwilling for him to come see me soaking in the bathwater that had long gone cold while I slept.
“Very well,” he said, sounding very formal. “At Master Claude’s request, I’ve taken the liberty of laying out your evening wear. Good day, Ma’am.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave the safety of the tub, but the combination of curiosity and cold water made up my mind for me. I rinsed off and warmed up with a nice shower, feeling infinitely better when I stepped out to see what he was talking about.
I almost had a heart attack when I saw what his idea of evening wear was, but slowly calmed down and forced myself to take a closer look. Standing on a dress stand was what looked like an antique Victorian corset, complete with whale bone reinforcement and ornate lace trim with miniature pearls. I tentatively reached out to touch it, but jumped back when I heard a knock at the door.
“It’s Sylvia,” she called out. “Can I come in?”
I tightened the belt around my robe before answering, feeling very self-conscious again. She entered with her arms held in front of her due to the blindfold over her eyes. She carefully walked in until she felt the bed in front of her, stumbling slightly as she hit it, but turning it into a semi-graceful sitting maneuver.
“The boys told me you needed help getting ready for dinner, but forbade me to see what they selected. I’m here because I know lacing up a corset properly is way out of your comfort zone.”
“Do I really have to wear that thing?” I asked.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but if I were you, I’d trust what Claude has in mind. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll wear one myself so you don’t feel singled out,” she said, pulling off her top and sitting with her hands in her lap.
I liked that idea, and under her direction, pulled a spare out from a box on the top shelf of the wardrobe. It was awkward putting it on her since she was sitting and waiting with bare and aroused nipples, but I got it in place and laced at least somewhat tight. Or at least I thought.
Even blindfolded, she fitted my corset onto me with incredible skill and pulled the laces so tight I thought I wouldn’t be able to breathe. When she finished, I went back to her laces and pulled them properly tight, but I’m still not sure if I did it out of a desire to do it right, or simply out of revenge for how tight she made mine.
Either way, we both had our bodies compressed beyond anything I’d ever seen or felt before, and even the simplest of actions caused me to run out of breath. Even still, when I looked at the pair of us standing side by side, I found it to be incredibly hot; we were a pair of real sexy ladies! I went to remove her blindfold so she could check it out herself, but she slapped my hand away.
“Not yet,” she chided. “I want to wait to see the full effect all at once.”
“Ok, then what next?”
“Stockings,” she said with a dreamy look on her face.
&
nbsp; Looking on the side-table, I found two pairs of black fishnet stockings, and almost lost it when I realized that in her blind state, I’d have to help her put them on so they were straight. It wasn’t hard putting them on her, although her lack of panties made me uncomfortable and my corset kept me from bending properly.
She instinctively knew when I started putting on my stockings, and even blind was able to grab my wrists and give them a chiding slap. She immediately took over and began pulling them up my legs, running her fingers over them from ankle to hip multiple times to make sure the seams were perfect.
Once again, I found myself lost to unfamiliar sensations, and she probably could’ve done anything to me without any complaints passing my lips. It was a bit of a disappointment when she finished with the garter belt and reached for my shoes.
Things must’ve been laid out in a prearranged pattern with how little searching she needed to do, and it took her only moments to get them on my feet. Despite never seeing them before, I found they fit perfectly, although the heel was higher than anything I’d ever seen before, and my arches were strained quite severely.
Once mine were in place, she held her own feet up and made me put her shoes on. They had what looked like six inch heels, and hanging off the buckles were tiny little locks. I looked at my own feet, and sure enough, identical shoes were locked on my own feet.
The only items remaining were a pair of sheer, pale red robes, so I put them on us both and helped guide her out to the patio where dinner was waiting for us. Between the killer heels and the constricting corset, I was out of breath from the short walk, although Sylvia didn’t seem to have a problem. I guess she was used to it.
Claude removed the blindfold and had us pose for a few pictures before we ate, and this time it was Sylvia holding my arm and guiding me. I felt like a little girl dressed up in mommy’s fancy clothes, but went along with it anyway. I kind of wanted one anyway so I had something to remember this weekend by, just in case it was my only experience like this.
Dinner was more of a formal affair tonight, even though it was just the three of us. There’s something about a starched white tablecloth and fancier clothes that short circuits the brain and makes a person feel the need to act classier.
Claude was dressed all in white tonight, and I shuddered involuntarily when I saw him drinking red wine. One little slip and his outfit would be ruined, as I well knew; I stuck strictly to white after that awful night.
I should’ve been ravenous after what I’d been through today, but barely touched my plate. Maybe it was the corset. It sure wasn’t the conversation, since I barely spoke a word for the entire meal, and their efforts were limited to the food itself. The thousand pound elephant was back in the room, and none of us wanted to be the one to point it out.
Dessert was champagne, strawberries and truffles, and the platter could’ve been put straight into an art gallery. It must’ve taken hours to arrange, and it almost seemed a shame to pick an item and destroy Billy’s hard work.
Sylvia seemed as excited as a girl on Christmas morning, and reached for the blindfold she wore earlier, tying it quickly but carefully before putting her hands on her thighs and sitting ramrod straight in her chair. Claude came around to her side of the table and sat on the chair arm, giving me a wink before selecting the first item from the tray.
He fed her slowly and sensuously, sometimes teasing her with one of the delicacies, other times holding it close to her lips while she licked and nibbled at it. I could tell she was highly aroused from the deep moans she’d occasionally make, and once I realized that, I recognized the same heat building inside me. I began to wish I was in her place right now, and felt a slight twinge of jealously that I wasn’t.
I didn’t dare say a word and break the moment, especially since it felt like something that should’ve been private for them. Heck… I barely even dared to breathe in case I spoiled it. When they’d finished, he removed the blindfold and I wondered if it was my turn to experience it, but he simply folded it neatly and placed it back on the table before resuming his seat.
I felt flustered and confused over the show they’d put on, and wondered if I could find a way to excuse myself early without sounding like I was as uncomfortable as I felt. Before I could come up with something, Sylvia broke the ice.
“Claude tells me you watched part of my session with Claire. What did you think of it compared to the other one you saw?”
“I… I don’t know,” I stammered. “It all seems so strange to me.”
“Strange can be good,” she said. “Imagine what the world would be like if everyone was the same? I think that’d be dreadfully boring.”
“What was that about just now… that thing with the blindfold?”
“Ah, it’s a little treat Claude does for me sometimes. Without sight, my other senses are heightened, and every little morsel is like an explosion of taste that feels like its bursting through my entire body. You really should try wearing a blindfold sometime… I think you might like it.”
It was a good opening, but I let it pass since the moment was gone. Maybe I’d try wearing one when I was alone later. I felt lucky that they didn’t press the issue, and with the ice broken, something close to a normal conversation ensued, although it still felt like I was lost at sea.
I wasn’t sure if they realized how uncomfortable I was and took pity on me, or called the night early because they had a difficult session lined up tomorrow. Either way, I got my wish and escaped to my room without making a fool of myself.
Of course, now that I was alone, I found myself facing a new set of problems. I couldn’t reach the laces tucked into the back of the corset, and I couldn’t remove my shoes without the keys. I knew I’d be in a world of hurt if I tried to sleep like this, so I reluctantly went to get some help. It looked like Claude and Sylvia already went to bed, but Billy was still outside cleaning up.
“Excuse me,” I said, poking my head out the door. “I need a little help.”
“If it’s your shoes, the key is on your nightstand,” he replied, not looking up from his work.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling dumb that I hadn’t even looked for it. “Can I also get you to help me with the corset? I can’t get to the laces by myself.”
He gestured me to come over and turn around. Obviously familiar with the corset, it took him all of about three seconds to pull out the laces and release the knot. I breathed a sigh of relief in more ways than one, as some of the restriction was let loose.
As way of thanks, I began helping him load the dirty dishes into his cart, which made me realize I’d barely ever spoken a word to him.
“So tell me, how do you like working here?” I asked, hoping to start a polite conversation.
“I like it a hell of a lot better than working for NASA. The pay is better, and the fringe benefits can’t be beat.”
“You used to work for NASA?”
“Yeah, I’m actually a real life rocket scientist, but the stress and internal politics were driving me crazy. Getting this job was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Why would a guy pick being a lowly servant over working for a prestigious organization like NASA? He must’ve noticed the look on my face, since he gestured for me to take a seat.
“I used to think working in a place like Cape Canaveral was a dream come true. I wasn’t an astronaut myself, but the job I did made sure that they got where they were going in as safe of a manner as possible. The only problem I had was the amount of stress I had to deal with.”
“I think I know where this is going… you started coming to see Sylvia to relieve your stress.”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “For one or two days out of the month, I got a chance to simply exist with no stress or hard choices, and Mistress Sylvia knew exactly what I needed to help keep me sane. When the couple working for them back then decided it was time to retire, I jumped at the chance to take their place, and handed in my notice
the very next day when she said yes.”
“So you’re submissive like Claire or that stock trader lady?”
“Technically speaking, Claire is what’s called a switch. It means she enjoys being both submissive and dominant, but you’re mostly right.”
“So now that you’re stress free, do you… umm… still have your sessions?”
“Only when I’m a good boy… or a bad one,” he grinned.
“What does Claude really think of all this? Doesn’t he get jealous of the way his wife gets intimate with her clients?”
“No… he has no problem with it at all. After all, who do you think trained her? He also helps out with a few of the clients who want both of them for their session, like the one they have tomorrow.”
That one threw me for a loop. It made the ‘Master’ honorific make more sense, and even though he did a fine job of dominating me earlier without even trying, I somehow didn’t see him in that role. I had a lot of thinking to do.
“Thanks for your candor,” I said, getting back on my feet. “Sorry about keeping you from your work.”
“It’s never a problem,” he assured me. “Feel free to bend my ear anytime you like. It’s good to have some company around that isn’t here because they’re paying for the privilege. To be honest, they don’t have a lot of real friends, only business associates and clients.”
“I know what that’s like. Anyway, good night Billy, and thanks again for taking the time to clear things up for me.”
I really did have a lot to think about, and sleep was a long time coming.
***
I didn’t oversleep like last time, but I was still the last to get moving. All three of them were wearing matching black leather outfits today, and even though I didn’t plan on staying around, I still felt like the odd man out.
The doorbell rang just as Billy was placing an omelet in front of me, and had to scurry off to greet the guests… or customers, would be a better term I guess. The clients were earlier than expected, and they had to go take care of them, but they told me to finish eating and they’d be back shortly.