by Dan Moran
Diane walked over to her bag and pulled out what looked like a dark mass of leather. When she handed something to Justine, it became clear what she had grabbed: two small, leather, multi-tailed whips.
“Have you ever used one of these?” Diane asked.
“No,” Justine answered, smiling and whipping at empty air to see how it worked.
“These are great because you don’t need a lot of force. Even a small flick of the wrist can cause great stinging pain. You have to be careful. Start out gently, like this.” She turned to face me sideways, drawing back her arm as if about to hit a backhand in tennis, and then pulled her hand through the air as if drawing an invisible line. I didn’t even see the whip fly, but a second after I heard the sound, I felt a line of stinging fire across my chest.
“Mngh,” I muttered.
“Now you try.”
“Okay.” Justine stepped up to me and tried the same quick backhand motion. She did it harder, though, and ended up hitting the exact same spot.
“MMMMHHH!” I yelled.
“Good,” Diane said. “You’ve got the basic idea. You might not want to hit the same spot that’s just been hit, though. There’s so much smooth, pale flesh to work on, anyway, so why repeat what’s been done?”
“You’re right,” Justine said, whipping my right hip. She flicked the leather against my leg then while Diane lashed me about the chest and shoulders. The whips made a wonderful whooshing noise, with a great distinctive splat! as the thin leather strips slapped my skin. The two of them walked all around me, getting new spots, trying to cover my whole body, whipping my naked flesh lightly but very thoroughly. I squirmed with inflamed delight as the fiery stings covered me, all of my flesh awakened to a point of great intensity, my lust filling me as I gave myself over completely, inside and out, to the control of these beautiful women.
After five minutes or so, Diane stopped and said, “Well, I think that’s enough for the moment. Let’s leave him where he is for now. Meanwhile, Justine, I want you to drop the whip and come over to the bed with me.”
Still tingling with delightful pain, I watched as Diane strode over to our bed and sat down on its edge, facing me. Justine followed meekly and stood before her. “What would you like, Mistress?” asked my lovely wife.
“You’ve mentioned that you like being submissive but that you don’t go for spanking. Well, Justine, I’m telling you it’s time for you to get a spanking. You can’t misbehave as you have and not suffer some consequences. You can’t just spank your husband and not expect to get yours in return. I know it’s not your thing, but I’m telling you that you deserve this, and I won’t go any further until you accept it.”
“But Mistress—“
“Don’t try to talk your way out of it. Either accept it and place yourself at my mercy, or refuse, in which case I’ll just go home now. You either accept my command or don’t.”
I was a little surprised by this, as Diane had earlier been so laid back and willing to do whatever we wanted. She certainly wasn’t forcing Justine, who could just say “That’s that” and conclude for the night. I suspected she was testing Justine, pushing her a little, perhaps having guessed at hidden desires Justine had never voiced. Whatever the case, I watched with excited interest as my wife placed herself over Diane’s lap. “You’re right, Mistress. It’s not fair that I never get spanked. I do deserve it. Please, Mistress, do it. Please spank me.”
“There. That’s better,” said Diane. “Now don’t worry. Now that you’ve accepted your punishment, I won’t make it severe. This is about knowing your place. I want you to think about what a naughty little slut you are and reflect on how good I am to help you out.”
“Yes, Mistr—ow!” Diane’s open palm came down on her butt. She raised her hand slowly, then brought it down again. I saw Justine’s buttocks jiggle as each slap resounded against them. Diane wasn’t spanking her very hard; it was more slow and deliberate, as if she really was punishing Justine just to make a point. Justine did not struggle or even move very much; she only whimpered a little and gave an occasional, “Ow!” Several times, when Diane paused to rub her ass, which was only a little pink, Justine actually thanked her. “Thank you for making me do this, Mistress. You’re such a good Mistress.”
“My pleasure,” Diane replied, smacking her buns some more. I was totally turned on by seeing this booted woman spank my wife on our bed while I was chained up naked. I found that I’d been unconsciously grinding my hips.
“Well!” said Diane with a final spank. “I think that’s taught you an important lesson. Now I want you to lie down on this bed. Right in the middle. Spread your arms and legs.”
Justine crawled from Diane’s lap onto the bed. I relished the sight of the warm reddish glow on her ass cheeks as she crawled away from me. She got onto her back, and Diane took hold of her right wrist and secured it to the cuff that stuck out from under the mattress. Justine lay quietly and compliantly as the other woman affixed all of her limbs to the bed’s corners. “Just look at you,” Diane said afterward, pausing to regard her bound and naked form. “Such beauty.” She picked up her digital camera and walked around the bed, taking shots from every angle. In every picture, Justine turned to face the camera with a smile. She was getting off on the idea of being in photos, of appearing along with me on Diane’s website. Diane repeated the process with her other camera then and finally swiveled the video recorder on its tripod to point at the bed.
Diane crawled onto the bed from one side, bending her head down to kiss Justine on the lips, the chin, the neck. Justine bared her throat and Diane pushed her tongue along it, stopping occasionally to nibble. Justine smiled with parted lips, her eyes closed as Diane kissed her collarbone, her sternum, her shoulders, treating Justine’s skin to the sweet wet touches of her tender lips. She kissed and licked each arm in turn, from shoulder to wrist and back again, and then her head slid down between Justine’s breasts. Justine panted, thrusting her chest up, but Diane bypassed her breasts and went on kissing her stomach and sides. She worked her way down Justine’s left leg, then back up to lick around the edges of pubic hair before making a similar trip down the right leg. Justine squirmed and squealed as the licks and caresses became quicker and covered more area.
My swollen cock felt like it was about to burst as I watched Diane slither up my wife’s naked, writhing body, pressing her flesh against Justine’s, her soft caresses becoming fondles and gropes as she kissed her way up. She had her palms on Justine’s ribs, just under the breasts. Justine’s chest heaved with excited breaths as Diane licked circles around her breasts, gently nibbling with her lips in spirals that led to the fat, pink hardness of desperate nipples. When Diane finally sucked one of the tender buds, Justine’s whole body quivered and she moaned, “Ohhhhhhhh....” Diane went from one tit to the other, squeezing the soft flesh, tonguing and sucking nipples. Justine’s torso shifted from side to side, trying to give more of herself to this woman’s mouth but unable to move very much.
Diane moved her face down Justine’s quivering abdomen, continuing to fondle her breasts as her mouth sought the warm, heavily-scented moisture between Justine’s bound, spread legs. Justine had her head up and watched as Diane’s head dipped into her crotch. “Oh?” she whimpered. “Oh yes... oh eat me please eat meeee.”
Then her head flung back against the pillow and she cried “Huuunnnhhhhh!” as Diane’s head wriggled around, her jaw working hard, the muscles in her neck flexing as she mouthed my wife’s eager sex. She let go of Justine’s breasts and used her fingers to stroke and spread Justine’s pink lips as she licked the insides. Then her jaw opened and her long, flat tongue draped across Justine’s exposed clit. Diane wiggled her head ever so slightly and slid her fingertips up and down the edges of Justine’s pussy lips. Justine’s hips bucked as much as they could in her bound condition, and she tried the slide her body down and press more firmly into Diane’s face, panting and sobbing with desperate abandon as she gave herself completely over
to this wonderful pleasure. I heard her shrieks get louder as they became shorter and closer together, and finally she screamed with joy, belting out great powerful notes of overwhelming happiness as her bound naked body convulsed, the sweat-soaked spasms rocking the whole bed, Diane pressing her mouth even harder against Justine’s pussy and moaning along with her. It was an intense orgasm, and just watching it was almost enough to make me come.
When Justine’s shudders had subsided and her breathing slowed, Diane crawled back up from between her legs and lay on top of her, hugging her and stroking her cheek. Justine was actually crying. “Thank you,” she sobbed quietly. “Oh, thank you so much. Oh God, I loved that, I love this...”
“Shhh,” Diane whispered, placing a finger on Justine’s lips. “It’s okay. That really was great.” She stroked Justine’s hair, then kissed her. “Now let’s get you out of these.” She sat up and undid each wrist cuff in turn, then got up and walked to the foot of the bed, freeing Justine’s legs.
Justine lay where she’d been for a minute or so, then slowly rolled over to face me and smile. She winked at me, then said, “Well, Diane, what should we do with this one?”
“Oh yes,” said Diane. “I nearly forgot about this gagged, naked man trussed up over here. I think it’s his turn on the bed.”
The two of them approached me and began undoing the clips and cuffs, pulling out the gag, too. As much fun as it was to have women gag me, it was also nice to get a good, deep breath of fresh air afterward. “Now, slave,” Justine said, “come with us. More torment awaits you.”
“Oh yes,” Diane added as they walked me to the bed, the women on either side of me, each holding me by an arm. “We’re not through with you yet. You still belong to us, and we’re going to torture this lovely muscled body of yours without giving you release until we’re satisfied. And there’s nothing you can do about it, slave. So get on the bed. Now! Do it! On your back and spread ’em!”
I got into the familiar position, and the two of them quickly had me secured tightly. I was naked, spread, and stretched, and as they walked around me, smiling, sliding hands over me, Diane said, “Let’s start with the delicate touch. I see that you have your own feather on the nightstand. Will you hand me mine, from my bag? We should stuff the gag back in his mouth, too. He’s bound to be noisy once we start tickling him.”
I lifted my head to see Diane at my feet, holding the feather she had used on me downstairs. She looked at me while dragging it lightly across the tops of my legs. Justine was at my right side, holding the feather I’d used on her many nights ago. She traced circles on my stomach, smiling. “Here comes the gag,” she said to me. “Ready?”
Another chance to say “blue.” A chance to get out of it. But I was eager for this. I wanted to feel this. I opened my mouth, and she replaced the plastic ball, thus committing me to an unknown span of delicious torment.
I lay my head back down and closed my eyes. I felt the delicate touches of the two feathers draw light lines over my limbs, electrifying every nerve as they mapped my body, making my newly hairless skin tingle. The recent waxing made me much more sensitive everywhere. Soon they were beginning to probe more ticklish territory, brushing lightly in my armpits and making me move for the first time. Naturally, I couldn’t move far, and the faint touch of the feather-tips simply pursued the parts I was trying to pull away and continued their delicate teasing. It was then that I fully realized what it meant to be tied up and tickled. It really was going to torment me, and there really was nothing I could do about it. Especially now, since I was gagged once more. As one of them continued to tickle my armpits while the other stroked the insides of my thighs, I couldn’t help the “GGH! Mgh. MMmmmmmggh. MNGHRHRNHMH!!” that tried to leap out of my mouth to protest the unbelievably intense over-stimulation. My ineffectual grunts only made the two women giggle and pick up the pace.
“Oooo, this is such fun!” Justine said with wicked glee in her voice.
“Isn’t it?” Diane responded. “Look at him squirm! Hee hee! Trying to move out of the way. Silly boy, you can’t move! Here, I’ll show you. Let’s tickle over here... Oh! Oh, look at him writhe.”
“I just love how helpless he is. Look at that flesh twitch. I bet he’s much more ticklish since I waxed him.”
“I’m sure. Hey, let’s tickle his feet.”
“Yes! Oh, he’s so ticklish there. This is going to be fun.”
After the briefest of pauses, the two of them moved down toward my feet, and I opened my eyes and looked up. “NNNHHH??” I tried to plead.
“No good, my love,” Justine answered firmly. “You had your chance. No getting out of this now. Anyway, your body belongs to us, remember? We get to do whatever we want to you.” And with that she grabbed my right ankle, as if being bound would not keep me secure enough, and touched the feather to the sensitive sole of my foot. My body jerked. She did it again, and then again, just poking me with the feather, and all of my muscles strove to get away, but nothing came free.
My attention was then grabbed by the long, slow strokes that Diane gave my left foot, pressing the feather just enough to make my nerves want to explode. “HHHHGGGHHH!!!” I whined, breathing hard and fast as they held my helpless feet and continued tickling, laughing at me the whole time, enjoying my agony and mocking me.
“Look, he’s still trying to get away.”
“Silly little slave. Your feet are ours.”
“What if I try to use my fingertips? Ooo, that looks like it really tickles.”
“Don’t forget the bottoms of his toes.”
My head thrashed, the only part of me that could really move, and I had to move something. I could not stand the stillness. I was sure I would go mad if this continued. On the other hand, some part of me completely loved this, as much as I really wanted to protest. If the gag was out of my mouth, I would’ve said “blue” long ago, but at the same time, the blood in my boner pounded with aroused delight. This made me hard in a way I’d never before experienced.
“Now, for some real fun,” Diane said. “Justine, you’d better straddle his stomach for this. We’re going to want to hold him down even more firmly.”
“Oh, I love it,” Justine said, eagerly climbing onto me, sitting on my waist but facing away, toward my feet. Just as they’d done downstairs, they began tickling my balls, Justine pulling back my dick to expose the sensitive skin. I struggled again, quite vigorously, but it was no good. Justine’s weight held me in place even more than the cuffs that bound my wrists and ankles. My hips were helplessly held firm while my two giggling tormentors brushed my balls and the underside of my sack with the lightest, most ticklish touches. I almost wept with the agony of insane delight when they stopped.
“Justine, will you go downstairs and fetch those lovely red candles from your coffee table?”
“Oh, great idea.” She got up hurriedly, and I heard her running downstairs as Diane walked to my left side and said, “Now that we’ve tried the delicate touch, we’re going to go for the not-so-delicate touch.”
I heard Justine’s hasty steps up the stairs, then watched as she came into the room with two candlesticks and a lighter. “You, my slave, are going to suffer now,” she said simply as she lit one of the candles and passed it across the bed to Diane. A tiny drip of wax fell on my sternum as she passed the candle over my body, and I made a small noise.
“Perfect,” Diane said as Justine lit her own candle. “He’s primed and ready for this pain.” She leaned over me, looking into my eyes with the softest and most loving expression, and for a moment I relaxed. Then I felt the sudden searing of hot wax on the left side of my chest, and I winced.
“Oh, you poor thing,” said Justine as she bent down to kiss me on the cheek. “Now here comes more.” She tipped the candle above the center of my chest, and as the first startling droplets spattered, she moved the candle down the center of my body, drawing a hot red line that stopped just above my pubic hair. I draw a sharp breath, and my saliva made a
hissing noise around the gag.
Diane placed the fingertips of her left hand on my torso, caressing me lightly. “Such a lovely body,” she said quietly, soothingly. “So beautiful.” Then more hot wax fell on my left hip, and she trailed it in a diagonal line up and across my stomach and chest, pausing at my right shoulder. She leaned over me to drip the wax slowly onto the fresh skin of my right bicep. Her naked breasts hung over my face, full and lovely, moving just a little in the candlelight.
Justine leaned over my chest, peering at it closely. “How about a nipple?” She let a few drops fall around my right nipple, then raised the candle slowly, holding it higher and higher above my chest so that the droplets splattered over a wider area.
“Nnngh,” I groaned.
“Oh my dear,” said Justine, stroking my cheek. “You’re so sweet. Don’t protest. You know that you need this. I’m doing it because I love you.” She dripped some wax onto a fresh spot on my stomach, and I furrowed my brows and tried not to make any noise.
“What a good slave,” commented Diane. “You ask him to stop, and he stops. So nice and quiet now. That’s the way to take it.” She held her candle close to my other nipple, and the wax ran in a slow but steady stream. She moved it so close that the candle flame almost touched my nipple. It kept melting the wax that formed over my skin, allowing new hot wax to constantly run over the same tortured spot. It was searing pain, and it was delicious. I smiled and winced at the same time.
Justine made her way to the foot of the bed, trailing spatters of red the whole way down my flesh, scalding my skin. Diane moved in the same direction. The two of them met at the foot of the bed, passed each other, and came back up the other side, caressing me with hot wax, awakening me even more with terrible ecstasies and making me yearn for further servitude and more pain. I cherished these moments of belonging to them so thoroughly, and I savored the sweetness of the pain that my lovely mistresses were kind enough to give me, knowing better than I how much I wanted, leading me down and stifling my protests to show me the desires that I was too afraid to confront on my own. I was in pure bliss as I grimaced and my flesh trembled, even as the two of them stood on either side of me midway down the bed. Diane was the one to grab my penis this time, holding my struggling erection down against my stomach and baring my balls once more. “Justine, will you do the honors?”