Bedroom Eyes 13

I’d woken up with Stephanie, who I hadn’t slept with before, and with Maires, my lover and, when we remembered, slavegirl. It had been a wonderful night, the three of us finding each other.

Stephanie had rolled out of bed to use the toilet and do other things she wanted to do. While she was away Maires and I had conferred.

We agreed that we both wanted Stephanie in our bed often or even permanently. And then Maires had said that when Stephanie came back, I should whip her: she meant I should whip Maires, while Stephanie watched.

I’d said, “What?”

“She’s thinking about what it might mean, to submit to you. Not just fuck you and get her bum spanked from time to time, but actually to be under your control. Rule.”

I said, like Cartman from South Park, “Autoritah.”

She shook her head, annoyed. “No, it’s not a joke. She means it, Master, and so should you. She liked obeying you. Surrendering turned her on. So did things like humiliation, when you made her crawl past all those people. On a leash.” She smiled: she’d have liked that too.

“She liked your hand on her arse. She liked knowing that she’s giving herself. Now she’d like to go further. So I’m saying, let her see something between us. Where your ownership of me is real, and has real consequences. You should punish me, while she watches.”

“What for? No, I know why you’re saying I should, but what for? I mean, seems you’ve been pretty good lately.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Master, I’m pleased you think so. But I didn’t go to my Medicinal Plant Chemistry lecture last week. I was playing Bioshock 2, and I forgot.”

“And when were you going to tell me?”

“I was going to tell you, I promise, Master. But now seems like a good time.”

A thing about penises, penes, is that they can be tired out, but still wake up when offered novelty. It wasn’t that there was any blood flow to my cock, but there was a sense of awareness, and that blood flow would probably happen if things continued the way they were. I pinched Maires’s nipple, hard, to watch her wince.

“All right. You’re a bad girl, and you deserve whipping. But you’re a lucky girl, because that’d look a bit scary. I’m not going to do that the first time Stephanie watches.” 

Stephanie, at the door, said, “While I watch what?”

I said, “Stephanie, come to bed, love. Maires, go and kneel in the corner, hands on head.”

Maires said, “Yes, Master.”

She got up, and Stephanie watched her walk naked across the door, and put her nose in the corner. It was an impressive demonstration of submission.

Stephanie looked at me doubtfully, but came to bed, and when I put my arms round her and kissed her, she pressed her body against mine and kissed me back. 

She said, “Is Maires in trouble? Am I?”

Bedroom Eyes 12

I woke up at a bit after five, with Maires sleeping on her side, her arse rammed into my left side, which is never a bad thing. Stephanie had slept with her head on my right shoulder, so that my arm was numb but I could also look at her hair and face.

I thought she looked astonishingly and dishevelledly beautiful, also loving and lovely, and unbelievably sweet. 

Still, I needed to piss and I didn’t want to wake them, so I had to manoeuvre carefully. I kissed Stephanie’s forehead and she made a small happy sound, though her eyes didn’t open. I stroked her back and made a yawn sound, so she stretched a little and turned onto her other side. I had two arses pressing against me.  I worked my way slowly up the bed between them, until I could crawl, Ninja-like, over the pillows.

While I pissed I thought about the evening’s events. My first priority was to make sure Stephanie was happy. Maires was already happy, and for uncomplicated reasons like liking and lust she wanted Stephanie to stay this morning and come back often. Stephanie had further to travel.

She’d done a lot of things she hadn’t done before. She’d crawled naked past strangers. She accepted orders, and light but real punishments when she hesitated. And she’d had sex with a woman, which was also sex with a man and a woman. Lesbian sex and threesomes were probably not things she’d expected to do. 

She had to accept what had happened last night without thinking she’d done wrong, and she had unfinished business, especially with me but also with Maires: what was she to us, and what were we to her?

Anyway, getting back into bed was much easier. Bodies like it when familiar bodies return. That’s warm and comforting. It’s bodies leaving that’s unsettling. Back between two wonderful women, I missed Stephanie’s face, so I yawned again so that she did too, and rolled back to put her head on my shoulder, her arm near my head. I drifted back to sleep.

Stephanie woke about nine. She raised her head, so I woke too. She looked at me, wondering what her reception might be, since she’d gone so far last night. Maybe I disapproved. So I kissed her and said, “Good morning, lovely Stephanie.”

“Good morning, Jaime. That was a night, wasn’t it?”

“Magic night. Stars in our eyes, pixie dust in our hair, love everywhere else.” I’d said that before, I’m afraid, but not to her. It was good enough. We kissed, and I pulled her on top of me, with my hands on her arse, and let her feel my cock noticing her.

“It was like that, wasn’t it?” So I realised how how worried I’d been, by the relief I felt when she said that. I knew she’d still need more love and assurance. I reached down and smacked her bottom lightly. She smiled. “You’re a kinky man, you.”

I said, as if I was quoting her: “‘Oooh, I’m not kinky: it’s just that my Master is.'”

She laughed, but said, “I’m not sure you’re my Master. I’m not certain I need one.”  

I nodded. “In love, my love, beautiful, wonderful Stephanie, it’s not always just what you need. It’s also what you want. I’m only your Master while you want me to be.”

“So you think you are, right now, and I’d have to fire you, if I wanted you not to be.”

I kissed her. That didn’t need an answer. Then I spider-walked my hand down her beautiful bottom and down between her thighs, to touch her cunt. 

She said, “Uh,” when I touched her. She was still sensitive. I stroked folded, sensitive skin. Then she said, “Hold that. I’m bursting for a piss. Sorry to break the mood. Be right back.” She rolled out of bed. Of course it was easy, for her.

Maires opened her eyes. She’d been awake for most of that, I guessed. She said, “Good morning, Master.”

“Slavegirl. You’re not often so formal. And good morning. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Don’t be an idiot.” We heard the toilet door close. So we kissed. “I want her. I know you do.”

I nodded. “She didn’t object to the idea that you’re her Master unless she says otherwise. And she didn’t say otherwise.”

“Yeah. I can’t say how wonderful that was. If that’s what you want … ?”

“Yes. She’s lovely. I mean her, who she is. not just that she’s beautiful. And I think she found some things in herself last night. Big things. I’d love to help her through them.”

I smiled at her. “Don’t forget you’re wonderful. And you come first. No matter what.”

“Sweet boy. Master.” We heard the toilet flush. She said, “When she gets back, whip me.”

I said, “What?”