Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 104: Three hearts, and two sisters’ asses, beat as one

Raylene made a little noise: “nn”, nasal, falling in two notes. I took it that she was disappointed that Lynette hadn’t turned up, not fearful because she was about to be caned. But she dropped her hips, seeking firmer contact with my fingers in her cunt and my palm under her. She was taking consolation of a kind, and demanding that there be more consolation to come. 

How I imagined Raylene and Lynette. The state of Lynette's ass was wishful thinking on my part. So was my possible presence, which depended on Lynette's attitude. So that's Schroedinger's Penis at lower right: it may or may not actually be there.

How I imagined Raylene and Lynette. The state of Lynette’s ass was wishful thinking on my part. So was my possible presence, which depended on Lynette’s attitude. So that’s Schroedinger’s Penis at lower right: it may or may not actually be there.

But consolation should come later. I took my fingers out of her and smacked her bottom wetly. I said, “We’ll still try.” Meaning we’d try to get Lynette into the same bed as Raylene. Even, I thought nobly,  if I wasn’t in that bed too. Maybe that was too noble. I wiped my fingers dry on her t-shirt, so she could feel me being ungallant

In the meantime, she was going to feel what the cane was like, which she seemed to be looking forward to. And there was me, urgently needing to fuck her as soon as Dorabella had left us. I knew that was consolation too. I trusted her need and want for me, even if a day and a night with Lynette and me might be better still. 

Anyway, it was time. Hardship leads to the stars, Raylene’s old school used to tell her. In Latin, so they must’ve meant it. Still, the hardship had to come first. “Get that ass up, girl. And keep it there.”

Raylene complied, still spectacularly, the backs of her thighs stretched and straight. “Yes, master.” Her voice was cheerful again. 

“And keep still. You don’t get up till I tell you you can. That’s an order. And what happens if you disobey an order?”

“Fif. Fucking hell, Jaime. Master! Fifty-two strokes. So…” 

“That’s right. So you’ll stay in position.”

For some reason Raylene seemed to relax. This wasn’t familiar ground yet, but at least there was certainty. I raised the cane. Dorabella stepped back, stumbling on one of Raylene’s shoes. “Come round to my left side, Dorabella. I don’t want to catch you with the cane. Accidentally.”

My brain on vasopressin. (A male arousal hormone. Noted for its brain-fuck capacity.)

My brain on vasopressin. (Vasopressin is a key male arousal hormone, noted for its capacity to reduce blood flow to the brain. My brain, anyway.)

I hadn’t put any stress on  accidentally, but Dorabella blushed again. She crossed behind me and stood close on my left side, almost touching. I breathed out, shakily. I’d imagined, for less than a second, the other threesome. Dorabella naked and splayed beside Raylene, the two girls well-striped across their asses and upper thighs, holding hands and waiting for my cock. That vision had seemed immensely real, vibrantly coloured, and powerful.

I shook my head. 

 

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 103: A male dom, the straight girl and the bi girl: No more waiting

Raylene had just just been told her caning would double if she disobeyed me again. I’d liked her reaction, so I tried to extend it. Stretch it out like a Jaime Mortimer story. “So you’re going to start doing as you’re told, Raylene?”

“Yes, master. And … thank you. For letting me off with just a warning.”

Raylene was in what had already become her element. Sex is best complicated, but happiness is best simple. She was happy.

I thought I might be able to spread some of that happiness around. I took the other, heavier cane, and passed it to Dorabella. “Hold that, please, in the meantime, Dorabella. And pass it to me when I ask.”

That's the cane grip of someone who expects to use it.

That’s how someone who expects to use the cane might hold it

Dorabella took the cane, holding ot at the thickest end. She swished it in the air, impressed at the sound it made. I said, “No, Dorabella. You hold it in the middle.”

She changed her grip. Then she understood why I’d told her to, and her face flamed red. “Yes…” There was hesitation because she’d had to stop herself falling into Raylene’s speech pattern. She wasn’t going to call me master. Or sir. Still, it had been a late catch. She compromised. “Yes ok. I can do that.”

“Thank you.” I patted her bottom lightly, a caress and not a threat, then drew her in close for another kiss. The cane was awkward in her right hand, so she only put her left arm round me. But her body pressed hard against mine, and I grunted with simple animal pleasure when her belly came into contact with my erection.

I mouthed at her, “I want to fuck you. So. Much.” She didn’t react, just watched me as if there had to be more. So I added, aloud, “And I will. Fuck you. Tomorrow.” She nodded: I’d better, if I knew what was good for me. It seemed that Raylene agreed.

I wondered what had happened to Dorabella’s erratic boyfriend. He must have annoyed her enough for her to dump him, or else he’d left her. Either way, the man was a moron. But his departure was one reason why she was back wanting me. Also, she’d had more time to think about the bdsm, and not be shocked by it any more. That, along with Raylene’s obvious enjoyment, was apparently intriguing. And it’d released the competitive thing she and Raylene had going.

But now Dorabella was holding it like someone who expects to have to hand the cane over to have it used on her. Or, maybe, her sister

But now Dorabella was holding it like someone who expects to have to hand the cane over soon enough, to have it used on her. On her sister, in this case. But holding it like that still set off a chain of ideas

I put both hands on her ass, so she could feel the slender cane in my hand touching her, pressing against her right flank and down the back of her leg. We held each other firmly. Dorabella stepped even closer, placing her feet outside mine. She wasn’t as mischievous and manipulative as Raylene, not quite, but the two of them did have equally perfect asses.

But this was as sexual as Dorabella and I could be for now, because today was Raylene’s. Though Raylene would have been perfectly happy with Dorabella as our bed guest, and even happier if we managed to bring Lynette in. With Lynette she’d be fucked by two people at once, which wouldn’t happen with Dorabella.

Me, I’d committed to doing what I could to assist Raylene’s Lynette project. But I’d prefer to have Raylene to myself for a day first.

Anyway, it seemed a shame that Lynette didn’t seem to be coming. I’d thought that Raylene had done a formidable job of enticing her this morning, and that she and I had made some progress away from loathing and towards sexual interest. Raylene had been sure that watching her ass dancing while I caned her would have brought Lynette into our bed as soon as possible. I’d have insisted that it not be before tomorrow morning. Lynette would have set her alarm clock.

On the other hand, time had passed and Lynette wasn’t here. I applied a final luxurious squeeze to Dorabella’s ass and let her go, the robe sliding back to cover her.

before cane cunt strokeI took a step forward and touched Raylene’s hip with the cane, then slid it over her skin until it pressed across her buttocks. I tapped the target a little harder, just above the crease of her buttocks and thighs, and Raylene’s left hand, the one I could see, tightened its grip on the table-leg.

I stroked her, my fingers entering her cunt for the first time in a while, to remind her how much she needed to be fucked. She kept her head down, but her ass dropped to meet my hand. She whimpered with pure desire and need. 

“Sorry, Raylene love, we’re a guest short. Pity. But we’ll begin now anyway.”

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 102: A male dom, a straight girl and a bi girl stop waiting for Lynette

Raylene had turned her head to see what all that silence behind her was about. It probably seemed unfair that I was rubbing Dorabella’s ass and not hers. She was the star this morning, after all. I took a step forward and rubbed, squeezed, fondled and stroked Raylene as well, left-handed, while still keeping my right hand on Dorabella. A sister’s ass in each hand. That was interesting, tactilely and socially.

Raylene laughed. “Your face! You’re in heaven, aren’t you?”

head downI grinned back at her. She was right, of course. But I made my voice sound angry. “Raylene, did I tell you to look down at the floor?”

“Yes, master.”

“And..?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, master.” She bent her neck, and her face dropped out of sight.

I smacked her bottom, still not very hard, and picked up the lighter cane again, tapping her ass with it. “Do you think you should get extra strokes?”

There was a moment’s silence. Followed by another moment. With no sound. Eventually, Raylene said, subdued, “Yes, I’m sure I should.”

She didn’t say “master” that one time. But she did like the word. I wondered where it had come from. I was sure she’d never had a master before, or even played much beyond getting an unenthusiastic spanking from some boy who wasn’t into it. Maybe it was something she’d read. But I couldn’t think what it would be. The Master and Marguerita? Hardly. I’d have to ask her. In the meantime, I’d been drafted into the role. And, looking at Raylene, it was impossible to regret this.

cane begin“You’re right, girl. That’s two extras. You’re getting thirteen with the light cane, and thirteen with the heavier cane.”

Dorabella moved, a little shocked by those numbers. But she didn’t move away from me. I still held her ass, and I didn’t let her go: just squeezed reassuringly. Raylene said, “Yes, sir. Sorry! I mean, yes master.”

“And that’s not a punishment, Raylene. That’s just a warning. Disobey me again, and I’ll double it. Twenty-six strokes with each cane.”

Raylene, head down, said, “Ahhh, yii! I’ll be good! Seriously good.”

And Dorabella said, “Oh.” Numbers again. I patted her ass lightly. Unthreateningly. But otherwise I ignored her, for now.

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 101: A male dom, a straight girl and a bi girl wait for Lynette 2

Dorabella dropped her eyes from eyes from Raylene’s cunt when she saw I was looking at her. She told me, “She’s very turned on.” As though she’d been making scientific observations.

bellie smackedI stepped beside her, and pulled her dressing gown up, to hold her left buttock. Round she was, and firm, and her skin cooler than Raylene’s ass, for obvious reasons. I said, “You were ogling.”

She smiled, as if pityingly, and shook her head. So I slapped her bottom, where I’d been holding. Not hard, but not a pat. It was an experiment. My hand settled back on smoothly round skin, and rode the rapids while she rocked her hips, forward and back. She turned to look at me, so I kissed her.

After a while she drew back and opened her mouth. Then she thought better of whatever she’d been going to say, and closed it.

I tried not to look triumphant. She said, “Smug bastard.”

I rubbed her ass to remind her that my hand was still there. She looked worried, then comfortable when it appeared that I wasn’t going to smack her again. After all, having her ass rubbed isn’t such a bad thing.

Still, Dorabella had been enjoying the sight of her sister’s arousal. I didn’t know why Dorabella and Raylene seemed to be so close sexually. In those threesomes they did together, I was sure they both concentrated on the male guest and didn’t do anything with each other, but still…

I can see the attraction from her point of view. But the fact is, neither of those guys would be me.

I can see the attraction from her point of view. But the fact is, neither of those guys would be me.

Dorabella was het; so am I. But no matter how much I wanted to please a woman, I wouldn’t bring another guy into bed with us. I’d be happy for her to enjoy herself with two other guys, but I wouldn’t want to be there myself.

It’s just more intimacy than I’d want to have with any guy. Let alone one of my brothers. The awkwardness would more than cancel out any sexiness.

That’s just me; I’m het to an almost embarrassing extent. But so was Dorabella, so why would she join her sister and me in bed?

I didn’t know, but there were some things I had worked out. I was so sexually popular in that house just then mainly because of Dorabella. The night she’d taken me to her bed she’d had a good time. So had I. I never fully understood why she’d left something so good after just one night.

Though I suspected it was partly because of the domming thing. She’d asked me about it because she knew other women I’d had sex with. Bdsm was part of my sexual reputation, for good or ill. She’d accepted it when I told her about it, and she she didn’t think it was wrong or anything. But it wasn’t for her. A bit later a previous boyfriend who’d changed his mind and wanted to come back turned up, and Dorabella had given him another chance.

When I’d told her I was writing a piece about the boot boys, she’d mentioned Raylene’s time with them, and said she’d ask her if she wanted to talk to me about it. When the two of them talked, Dorabella would have given me a good sexual review. And mentioned bdsm. That had to be why Raylene had steered things into a sexual direction so fast, and given me cues that had led us to this point.

I’d thought I’d been pushing her towards submission but she’d been driving things too. She was quite strongly submissive, and as submissives will, she’d got what she wanted. All I’d had to do was turn up, not be too much of a creep and keep my nerve, and here I was, being addressed as “master”.

It's no bad thing, being a man her friends had warned her about.

It’s no bad thing, being a man her friends had warned her about.

That’s one of the good things about having a reputation as a kinky man. It has its downsides, but the caution, “look out! he might want to push you round, hold you down and smack your helpless little arse” also works as advertising. The female half of my circle of friends all knew that about me, some from direct experience and some from gossip, and being out to that limited extent had never done me any harm.

Raylene had tested and found that I was as advertised. So here she was, doing as she was told, waiting for the cane, in her bedroom. 

While I had my hand on her sister’s ass. 

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 100: A male dom, a bi girl and a straight girl wait for Lynette

raylene over desk 2Dorabella looked around. Raylene had invited her to sit, but the only chair was near the window, where the desk had been. I picked it up and carried it, placing it beside the bed. Whosoever sat in that most special chair would have a perfect side view of Raylene’s caning, capturing the impact off the cane on her ass, her facial expressions, and her belly and left breast crushed into the tabletop.

The view would be even better when Raylene raised her upper body, as I intended she’d do after each fourth, harder, stroke. It would be the best seat in the house,

Dorabella smiled at me gratefully, and took a step towards to the chair. “No,” I said. “You stand.”

“Oh?” Dorabella was puzzled.

“The seat’s for Lynette, if she comes. You, on the other hand, stand.”

Dorabella’s mouth dropped open. That seemed to be information about the sexual pecking order in this room, and it caught her by surprise. She touched her upper lip with her tongue, raising her brows and stared at me. It was an appeal: could I mean it? I smiled at her. “You can be beside me.” That sounded like another privileged position, and Dorabella smiled back and joined me.

raylene strokedI put my hand on Raylene’s ass and squeezed. “Just a few moments more, I think.” Raylene turned her head at the touch, and smiled. But there was strain there, in her eyes. She was getting nervous. In the meantime that would be sexy for her, if I read her right, but I shouldn’t keep her waiting too much longer. I let my thumb stray between her buttocks to rub her cunt, without entering.

Her face relaxed a little. “Look at the floor, love,” I told her. “Good girl.”

I pressed a little harder against her cunt and she hissed in air. Then breathed out, long and slow, while I moved the side of my hand down, and then up, pressed hard against most soft, moist and puffy skin, still without entering. But that was my farewell. I stepped back.

Dorabella, beside me, had watched this interaction intently, but she still gazed at Raylene’s ass. I didn’t understand that part of what was happening. Dorabella wasn’t into girls, she’d often said, and I believed her. Anyway, your own half-sister would be a … controversial choice for a lust object. But something about this titillated her. More than titillated. I didn’t understand that part. 

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 92: Raylene’s back and Lynette’s coming 3

Lynette and I looked at each other. I hadn’t thought this far ahead. I had no idea what to say to her. She seemed to have the same problem with me. I wasn’t even sure what my intentions were. I’d wanted her to witness Raylene get the cane because Raylene would find it deliciously humiliating.

Now I’d seen that Lynette fancied Raylene, it was a little more complicated. She’d been in the middle of a seduction that would probably have worked, if her timing hadn’t been so terrible. I didn’t mind, not because I don’t take sexual competition from women seriously, but because I knew that Raylene and I were both very interested in and excited by each other.

Anyway, once I’d thought about it properly I’d realised that I was giving Raylene too little credit. She’d been up to mischief when she sprawled out on Lynette’s bed with her arse on display, that display featuring irresistible cuteness, also blushes and bruises. She was making sure Lynette was sexually interested in what Raylene and I were up to.

cold creamThere was no way Lynette could have avoided doing something helpful like smearing on the cold cream and rubbing it in. Slowly and gently. At least at first.

Which raised a question about the extent to which Raylene had been playing me, all the time I was thinking that it was me taking the initiative. I shook my head. This was no time to get distracted. Lynette saw that and scowled, assuming that I’d had a negative thought about her. So I said something that was true, and probably helpful.

“This is kind of awkward, but it doesn’t have to be.” She said nothing.

I shrugged apologetically. “Anyway, I’m certain it’ll get easier. But what I really wanted to say is that Raylene really wants to be caned this morning. Yeah, I know you know that. But, you know, the official reason, in inverted commas, is that she was rude to you last night. And you should know that that’s just nonsense. It’s just an excuse, because it seems hotter if there’s a reason. But you’re not, in any sense, responsible for Raylene being about to get a hot arse. Well, hotter.”

caned tableLynette still looked at me without speaking, but her stance had relaxed a little. I plunged on. “I mean, if you come up and watch, which she really would like, then she’ll say sorry to you, and so on. But if it hadn’t been her being rude to you last night, it would have been something else. Still this morning. Still the same number of strokes. So you did no harm, not to anyone.”

“Hmmm.” I hadn’t gotten her past dubious yet. Raylene’s approach had probably been better. But she might not like my arse as much. 

So I said, “The real reason, truth to tell, is that she’ll love it, and she’s got a cute arse. Ahm, as I guess you noticed.”

There was a second of silence and stillness. Then Lynette’s eyes opened wide and she blushed. The blush transformed her face. Suddenly I liked her a lot more. She said, “Ah, I -“

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 91: Raylene’s back & Lynette’s coming 2

standing spanked 2Raylene settled again, though it took a few seconds after I’d stopped smacking her arse for the dancing to stop. Our faces were close, eye to eye. Raylene was looking earnest, wanting me to recognise that she’d been a good girl, really. I knew that. I made to kiss her nose but she suddenly grinned, then bowed her head. “Thank you, sir. For punishing me.”

It was said to me, but it was aimed at Lynette. Some women are scarily good at that kind of game. It took real effort not to glance at Lynette just then.

Although she was still carrying out guerrilla raids on Lynette, which was the very thing I was going to cane her for, I admired her cleverness too much to feel like punishing it. I pulled her into a hug, and let my hands stray down to hold her by her ass.

I looked at Lynette then. She was still watching, expressionless. So I said to Raylene, “I’ve put your desk out for you in the middle of the room.” I looked into her eyes to make sure she was listening. “You’re a good girl for fetching those two canes. That’s well done.”

“Thank you, sir.” Raylene looked at the carpet again, as piously good as a submissive can be. But the praise made her smile, happily blushing, anyway. 

“I want you to put the canes, both of them, on the left side of the desk. And I want you to stand facing the desk and wait for me. I’ll be up shortly.”

Raylene said, “Do I take off my t-shirt, sir?”

standing spankedLynette looked alarmed. She knew what was coming. I held Raylene’s waist and smacked her bottom again, six spanks medium loud, while Raylene drummed the floor with her feet. It seemed, from Lynette’s expression, that it was as bad as she’d expected. Though this time she watched Raylene with more obvious interest.

I said, “Raylene, I’ll tell you when its time to take the shirt off. Till then, just do as you’re told when I tell you. Is that understood? Do you understand?”

I kept spanking Raylene throughout that speech, and Raylene’s gasped “Yes, sir!” had a faltering, almost panicked, quality.

“And after I’ve caned you, we’re going to discuss this morning. Before we put those two canes away.”

Raylene looked shocked. Maybe she was. Anyway, I pointed her at the door, still using her hair as my handle. I pushed her forward.

“Go! I’ll be up to see you in a few minutes.”

Raylene scrambled to the door, tugging her t-shirt back down. So Lynette and I were left. She folded her arms across her breasts and frowned, studying me.

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 90: Raylene’s back & Lynette is coming

Someone had thrown a towel over the top of the door, in Lynette’s room. So the door hadn’t closed when Raylene had followed Lynette. I assumed that Raylene was there to reassure Lynette that she, Raylene, was fine with the idea of getting caned. And that it would even, in some arcane way, be a good and wonderful thing if I caned her that morning. 

Therefore, I expected to hear praise of me, if I waited for a second. I like praise. Maybe Raylene would say, “He pretends to be a bastard, but that’s just a game. Getting the cane is what I want, and I trust him to get it just right. So it hurts a bit, but it’s hot. And Jaime’s hot too, fucking amazing, did I mention that?” Something on those lines, maybe.

But I didn’t hear that. I just heard a sigh,a good, satisfied sigh, that had to be Raylene’s. Then a bed creaked. That was unexpected. It was also possible that it might not be good news, for me at least. On the other hand, Raylene knew she had an appointment with me, in her room, in a few minutes. and she’d been pleased with me the last time I saw her. About quarter of an hour ago.  

I wasn’t about to burst the door down and carry on like an outraged husband. But nor could I simply stay outside and call Raylene. A girl’s new master can’t really do that kind of thing. It seems a little … conciliatory. So I coughed, then knuckled the door a couple of times, and said, “Hey, Raylene. Ah, Lynette, ‘scuse me.” 

There was silence. But it was the kind of silence that meant they’d heard me. I pushed the door open, reasonably slowly, and stepped in. 

coldcreamRaylene and Lynette were on Lynette’s bed. Raylene lay stretched out on her front, with her t-shirt pushed up to her armpits. Lynette sat straddling the backs of Raylene’s thighs, so she could inspect and stroke the damage I’d done to Raylene’s ass. She’d rubbed in some cold cream.

I didn’t mind. Cold cream wasn’t going to make any difference to Raylene’s experience of getting caned. And rubbing Raylene’s bottom was definitely a pleasant thing to do, and you could even feel virtuous while you were doing it. I couldn’t blame Lynette for that. Well, I didn’t, anyway. She wore blue knickers and a little maroon blouse that I think belonged to Raylene and Dorabella’s mother. She looked at me, neither friendly nor hostile.

I said, “Sorry. You’re looking after Raylene. But I’m going to have to borrow her for a bit. She’s -” The two canes were on the bed beside Raylene’s right arm. I waved a hand in their direction.

Lynette glanced over at the canes, then spent a few seconds thinking. Then she scrambled off Raylene – as I’d speculated, she had slender thighs and a very nice ass, the hard-apple kind – and put her feet on the floor. She fumbled one-handed with the only button on the blouse that was still buttoned, and made it a little more secure. “Mmmmm. The, um, the event.”

It occurred to me that Raylene had been working in my interests, in her own way. Lynette was more relaxed about “the event” than she had been. I said, “Yeah. That. You’re very welcome to come up and watch. But you don’t have to if you don’t want. ‘Sup to you.”

Lynette frowned. “I know I haven’t got long, but I’m going to have to think about it.”

“Well, either way.” I watched Raylene roll over onto her side, staring at Lynette and me. “You’re welcome. But it’s not compul- It’s fine, either way you feel like.”

Lynette had noticed my slip, when I’d started to tell her I wasn’t making something compulsory. Before remembering that I couldn’t make anything compulsory for Lynette, and that claiming I could would be fighting talk. It was lop-sided, but I got a smile.

I grinned back at her. Trying to make it conspiratorial, between us. The smile stayed lop-sided. So I turned to Raylene. “Raylene.”

“Sir?”

I didn’t look at Lynette to see what she thought of Raylene calling me “sir”. I doubt if her attitude on that had softened. I said, “You’ve got an appointment. And you’re late.”

Raylene nodded. She held her hand up for me to pull her off the bed. Then she said “Yo-ike!” I’d reached past her hand and lifted her up by her hair. She followed her hair, as one does, and stood in front of me, facing me. Raylene looked into my eyes, trying to communicate something. That she’d been a good girl, for all that it looked otherwise. 

The t-shirt had drifted down to her waist since she’d stood up, but it hadn’t covered her ass yet. 

spank raylI thought that Raylene probably had been doing me a favour as well as enjoying herself. So, as doms sometimes do with submissives you suspect of being good, I smacked her arse.

My hand cracked across already well-reddened skin several times, setting Raylene dancing a little on her feet, waving her hands, trying to keep still.

Lynette watched without comment. 

 

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 89: Dorabella’s pink-velvet spanner

Dorabella was in the kitchen, sitting at the table in a Hello Kitty t-shirt and her pink gown, flashing her very fine legs and eating cereal. I said, “Hi, Dorabella. You seen Raylene?”

“Oh, course.” She waved a milky spoon at me, to demonstrate how visible Raylene was. I frowned.

Fine way to spend a morning

Fine way to spend a morning

“Well, is she OK? I mean, about this morning? Getting the cane? Where the hell is she?”

Dorabella had been Dorabella, her full name, when we’d slept together. Bellie was Raylene’s name for her sister. I preferred, at this moment, the name we’d fucked under. Dorabella pointed down the corridor at the room Lynette had slept in last night.

“They’re in Lynette’s room. She’s talking Lynette down. When she invited Lynette to come up and watch her get caned – watch you cane a woman – Lynette didn’t take it all that well.” 

“I thought you were going to talk to her. Lynette. To calm her down.” 

“Jaime, I did. She was sort of okay with it. She could see that you’re giving Raylene what she wants. So I’d got her down to dubious.” She pulled a face, illustrating dubious.

“So how come she’s in a panic now?”

Wearing fuck-all

Wearing fuck-all

“I think it was that Raylene was so cheerful about it. She can be a bit much in the morning. She’d cut two canes. Guess that’s your idea. And making her wear fuck-all while she got them from the church. That’s your style too.”

I shrugged. Anyone in a position to tell Raylene what to do, and get obeyed, would make her to wear as little as possible. The same was true of Dorabella, but I wasn’t in a position to tell her anything. Probably.  That was starting to feel like a shame.

“And Raylene whacked a pillow with the thick one. Cane, I mean. It was quite graphic.”

“Oh. I see.” Raylene hadn’t liked Lynette for coming up the stairs without permission, and then disapproving of her. She was waging a small war against Lynette’s peace of mind. 

“Lynette freaked and ran into her room. Raylene followed her. Well.” 

I smiled. For some reason that made me proud of Raylene. But I said, “Are you coming up?”

“Of course. When are you starting?”

“Well, pretty soon after I’ve fetched Raylene and sent her up the stairs. And followed her. Give me ten minutes from then. Snogging time, mostly.”

robe cuntDorabella nodded. She stretched out one leg. The t-shirt stopped at her lower belly. She meant to show me her legs; I wasn’t sure if she’d meant to flash her cunt as well.

But then she inspected her foot, and I decided the cunt exposure was deliberate. “Are you going to be hard on her?”

I was going to answer, reassuringly and truthfully, that of course I wasn’t; I’d make it hard enough to impress and mark her, but for most of the strokes that wouldn’t have to be hard at all on a first time. But I remembered this was theatre, and Dorabella was part of the audience too. “Yes. Very. It’s her first lesson. It has to be hard.”

Bellie smiled a private, inward smile and nodded. That was a satisfactory answer. Was it why she was flashing her cunt at me? A nice soft spanner, to adjust my attitude? “It’s what she wants.”

I knew there was something going on, that Dorabella had her own reasons for wanting Raylene to feel her caning. I had no idea, and filed it under “sisters”. Instead, because the display of long, sleek leg and the sweet, pink folds of her smooth-shaven cunt was having its effect on my brain, I said, “Dorabella.”

“Nnh?”

t-shirtoff“You’re not wearing that t-shirt while you watch Raylene.”

Dorabella tilted her head, amused. “It’s too cheerful?”

“Any t-shirt. Raylene’s going to be naked. After the first six.” I shook my head as if I there was some good, fairness-based reason for what I was saying. “You can just wear the robe.”

Dorabella looked at me. Of course I’d be hoping the robe spent some of the time falling open. She knew that. But I’d expressed it as if there were some greater issue there. Something about fairness, apparently.

She did know that it was a test. It was getting obvious that Dorabella and I were going to fuck soon. Not today, because I’d be looking after Raylene, but soon. Going by what Raylene had said last night, it would probably be with Raylene, in a crowded, sisterly bed. Still, today we weren’t going to fuck, but it’d tell both of us a lot if Dorabella decided to obey my clothing suggestion.

Dorabella gazed thoughtfully down at her cunt, which made two of us. And didn’t pull the robe closed. “OK,” she said.

I stopped myself from saying, “Good girl.” Instead I said, “Thank you. It’s right.” And I walked down the corridor to Lynette’s room. With a song in my heart.  

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 88: Over the table

I couldn’t have my cock in Raylene the second I finished her caning, if Dorabella turned up. Bellie had volunteered to watch Raylene getting her ass caned. Watching my ass instead, pumping away while I fucked Raylene, was a step or two further along. Neither of us was quite ready for that.

Raylene, little show-off that she was, would probably enjoy having the audience, but her preferences didn’t count. She’d like it even more if I fucked her with Lynette watching as well. But I’d like that even less, and my preferences counted.

Yeah, that transition...

Yeah, that transition…

But if I couldn’t use the bed to give Raylene a seamless, or at least instantaneous, transition from being caned to being fucked, then there was no point in putting her on the bed at all.

It made things more awkward for the witnesses, who’d have to stand close to me to view Raylene, and occasionally duck while I waved the cane about. 

There was a metal and plywood chair. I could make her bend over the back and hold onto the seat. But it would be uncomfortable for her, because there was no support for her body, and anyway I thought that position only looked stylish with a high-backed wooden chair.

Very hot position. Also silly

Very hot position. Also silly

I could turn the chair around, and make Raylene could put her knees on the seat and lean down to rest her hands on the floor.

That would be awkward for Raylene but not the rest of us, and it was a position that certainly displayed her body very fully. Also, the witnesses could watch Raylene’s face as well as her ass, when the cane landed. It would be almost too exhibitionist, which would make it peak sexy.

For everybody, including Raylene.

But it was her first time, and it was a hard position for a girl to hold, even a strong girl like Raylene. She was new to the cane and to discipline generally, and when I applied the strokes that were meant to mark her for days, she’d almost certainly break position and fall on the floor. So, with regret, that was out, too.

There was a desk in front of the window. She would have used it to do homework, and the odd bit of university work before she quit. I took the vase of dead flowers, the bear, the rabbit and the jarful of pens onto the floor and lifted the desk into the centre of the room.

Hands down the best position for a caning noob

Hands down the best position for a caning noob

It was wooden and sturdy, perfect for both strength and style.

I pushed it a little further forward, closer to the wall, so that Raylene could have her head over the edge, looking at the floor while I attended to her ass. Also, I thought itd be good to leave room, if necessary, for Bellie to stand in front of her and keep her shoulders down.

I put the chair where the desk had been. I flipped the duvet into place on the bed, so it’d didn’t look so obviously fucked-in. I picked a couple of condoms off the floor, wrapped them in tissue and dropped them in her bin. We were ready, except that the damn girl hadn’t arrived.

I’d have to get her. I picked up her robe, practiced my “concerned” look, in case she’d been bailed up by Christians and I needed to rescue her, and tucked my shirt in. I should have shaved. Too bad. 

I set forth to find my girl.