Wicked Wednesday: Maddie kisses Lucy!

Note

Last week’s episode, and a quick summary of events to date, can be read here. 

Maddie kisses Lucy!

Lucy stood behind me while I took the key from my blazer pocket and opened the little door in the back of the school library. Luckily it was a nice day, and there wasn’t a single person in amongst the books. So I didn’t have to come up with any stories. About why we were there. 

I pushed the door open and stood back, waving Lucy in. She hesitated, and then turned to face me, so she could step sideways into the little room beyond the library. Her smile flickered like a streetsign in an old film, not quite on and not quite off. I followed her quickly and locked the door behind us.

It helped that Lucy was a bit shorter than me. I’d always been the short one, when I got kissed, especially when it was Sir, but I knew what to do. So I stepped to press my body against Lucy’s.

She was so soft, and her breasts were so wonderful: she made me think of motherhood and ripe fruit. There was something so hot about her.

Not just sexy but somehow life-giving. She opened her mouth and licked her lower lip, so I kissed her. It had to be. 

I felt her slide her hands up my sides to hold me by my shoulders. My head felt like it was spinning. Everything was too wonderful and too heady to be real, and yet it was happening. I slid my hands down from her shoulders, and lifted her little skirt at the back. I put my hands on her bottom, through her panties. Lucy leaned into me at that, her head snuggling onto the side of my left breast. 

I smacked her bottom, not hard, not as hard as I wanted to. But I wanted to let her know that I could smack her bottom, from now on. If she took it now, she’d take many more. From now on. I said, “I’ve never spanked a girl before.” 

Lucy looked at me. “I’ve seen you get the cane. Naked. You didn’t seem to mind. Doesn’t it hurt?” 

“Kind of. It’s hard to say. It hurts, but when it’s the right person, and you want them, it feels like… Oh, it feels like a sexy, loving touch. And it still hurts, but I kind of like that too. Anyway, you’re going to find out for yourself this evening, after school.”

Lucy looked sulky. I loved what that did to her mouth. It turned down at both sides, but didn’t thin the lips. I kissed her again, because I couldn’t stop myself, then drew back. She said, “You did that. That’s your fault. I’m going to strip naked, and get twelve strokes across my bottom.” 

“Sir’s going to love it. Caning you, I mean, darling. You’re so beautiful, little Lucy.”

“Nnnnh.” She snuggled closer into my breast. I held her tight. She was so precious.

“I bet he’s going to take his time. And he won’t be too hard on you. Because you’re so beautiful, and you don’t spoil beauty. And I’m going to love watching you get the cane. And… like I said, you’re going to get a surprise. Yes, it’ll hurt, but” – I slid my hand under her underpants and stroked her bare bottom – “you’ll find out. You’ll be so hot afterwards. I mean, the good hot.” 

Something happened. Lucy got heavier in my arms. I think her knees gave for a second. So we pressed together, and I pulled her panties down to her thighs, at the back, and rubbed and patted her bottom. She felt so wonderful. I learned, I think, why Sir liked my ass so much. I wondered if I dared stroke her pussy next. 

Lucy set her feet a little further apart. It was as if she’d heard me. She kissed the side of my breast. Her mouth was so soft.

She was so sweet. 

Wicked Wednesday: The return of Maddie!

Maddie’s been waiting in the wings, biting her tongue, for seven weeks now, while I told a different story, that Didn’t Have Her In It!

But she’s a girl who gets what she wants, and she’s back. 

The background to this story is that Maddie’s lying in the storeroom, in warm afterfuck with her employer, the headmaster of the school where she works. And she’s telling him about her own adventures when she was at school. She wants her story to encourage him to look after a girl, Jennifer Perch. He’s disciplined Jennifer, and it’s clear to Maddie that Jennifer wants her headmaster, and that she should get him. 

Those thighs

In the story Maddie’s been telling, she’d just been caned, naked, in her own headmaster’s office. She’d got her twelve strokes while held down between the deliciously plump thighs of a new girl, Lucy. And Maddie had discovered that she’s capable of lust and maybe love for a girl. 

And that afternoon, both Lucy and Maddie are due back in the headmaster’s office to be caned, for the first time in her life in Lucy’s case, and for the second time that day in Maddie’s case. 

And afterwards, the headmaster and Maddie are going to to the headmaster’s house together. They’re certainly going to have sex. Probably they’re going to make love. 

But there’s just one thing. The headmaster has said he wants to devote that evening to Maddie. But Maddie wants Lucy to be there. With the help of a superior blow-job she gets the headmaster’s permission to invite Lucy to come along, though he says he’s not going to do anything sexual with Lucy on Maddie’s night. 

Phew! So you’re up to date! Now read on… 

Maddie’s story

So I made sure that Lucy and I had lunch together. Lucy was a little embarrassed to be speaking with me, at first. That morning, well, I’d watched her get her bottom spanked, and then, when she was holding me down for my caning I’d deliberately got up so that Lucy was going to get punished too, this afternoon. 

Maddie was finding it difficult to focus on food

But there was something about Lucy: something about the two of us. I wanted her, and she was waking up something in me that I never expected to find. I wanted to rule her, hard, stripe her, make her cry, make her serve me, like my Sir did to me.

And then make her come, over and over, helplessly. Like my Sir did for me too. 

And I don’t know how much of that she knew, or how much of it she wanted, but I could see she felt at least some of it. It was in her eyes. And when we ate together she kept finding reasons to touch me. Safe touches, in public, on my wrist, my shoulder. Once on my waist. But we had to be careful. We didn’t want to be gossip. 

So I told her to put her hands flat on the table. And she did. She sat quietly, listening while I explained what was happening between Sir and me. I’d been raped by some creep, when I lost my virginity, which I’d wanted Sir to have. And tonight, after he’d caned both us, he was going to take me back to his home, where he’d looked after after I was raped, and he was going to show me what loving sex was like. 

We were neither of us looking at each other while I told her this. There was silence. I looked at Lucy at last. She was blushing so brightly. But her eyes, and her dimples told me she was ok. “And,” I said, “I’d like you to be with me.”

“What? At the headmaster’s? While he fucks you?”

Some problems are easily fixed

“Yes. He’s not going to do anything to you. It’s me who wants you to be there. As my… moral support.”

Lucy stared at me. “Moral support, it’d be, would it?”

Immoral support. Anyway, I’d love it if you were with me.”

“Do I have to watch? I mean, his arse pumping up and down? And, god, whatever?”

“Lucy. I’m thinking it’ll be more romantic than that. And if you don’t like his ass, I could always drape a sheet over us.” 

“I suppose.”

“Or I could be on top, and you can watch my ass instead. Would you like that?” 

Just like that!

“Um?” She dropped her head again. 

“Yes. Yes, you will.” 

“You said he’s not going to do anything to me. Will you?” 

There’s a little room at the back of the school library. I had the key. It’s one of the advantages of being a good girl. By reputation.

 I said, “Come on. We’re going for a walk. You. With me. Now.” 

Lucy stood. My cunt just wrenched, clenched, so hard when she obeyed me. Maybe she’d be my good girl. Oh, drenched. 

 

Wicked Wednesday: The Kiss 7

Note

The previous episode is here

The story so far is that I took my slavegirl Arethusa to the local bdsm club, Club Bento, after months of begging.

I’m running this “Arethusa and the late essay” pic again, because I’m quite proud of my aim and spacing.

It took months because I was monitoring her university work, and she kept fucking up and having to be caned, and then grounded. Finally, she was good, handing in all essays and studying for her tests, for a whole month! A Master’s life is hard, but at last I could reward her! 

We met Delores there, an ex of mine, who was showing the club to a girl called Cash, who turned out to be yet another ex. 

Cash was Qing, when I’d first known her, and she was still dressing like a mainlander Chinese girl from a small city. Because back then she was. (You should hear what diaspora Chinese say about mainlanders. Hollywood writers being rude about the deep South doesn’t even come close.) 

In the years since we’d lost touch she’d transformed herself into a zippy, leatherette, platinum blonde bobbed style icon, who moved at twice the speed of everyone else, though I bet she had less amphetamine in her system than most people there. 

They hadn’t actually kissed yet (they would later, in Arethusa’s and my kitchen and bed), but this was on their minds five or so seconds after they’d met

So we all met, and I introduced Arethusa to Delores and Cash. Cash and Arethusa contracted a case of lust at first sight, while Arethusa and Delores didn’t hit it off.

I took Arethusa into the dark part of the club, to feed her champagne while fingering her under her tutu, keeping her close to coming but not giving permission.

Delores went looking for a man to bruise and fuck her. Cash picked up a girl on the dancefloor, and dragged her off to the women’s toilets to facefuck her up against the wall. Then Cash went back to gthe dancing, followed by the girl, who was smitten, and then by the girl’s master, who sensed a threesome.

Cash didn’t want any part of his body anywhere near her body, but she wanted to be polite, for the girl’s sake more than his. So she said she’d love to, but she’d have to get permission from her Mistress.

Now read on.

The Kiss 7

Delores (now we’re following this story from her point of view again) was also a girl who’d come from a small town, but she’d never re-packaged herself as a big-city girl the way Cash had.

She still thought it weird that girls might want sexy stuff with girls, when there are men around. She had many lesbian and gay friends, who loved her and who she loved. She genuinely was not a bigot. It was just she had no perspective from which same-sex desire made any sense to her. 

Similarly, she was submissive and that’s that. She was assertive in her life, with her children and her work and so on, but in a bdsm context she couldn’t switch to save her life. She could no more spank another submissive, or give one an order, than she could flap her arms and fly.  

Cash kissing Delores (Cash’s perspective)

So she was a bit taken aback when Cash raced up to her, kissed her passionately on the lips, and whispered, “I’m going to call you Mistress and ask you for something. You have to answer no. Save my life. Ok? Just say no!” 

So Delores wiped the girl-kiss off her lips, and said, “Just say no… What? To drugs?” 

But the dazed girl and her Master arrived. Out loud, Cash said, “Mistress, darling Mistress, can I please go off with these two tonight?” 

So Delores, still thoroughly confused, saw the girl and her Master, there waiting for her permission, which gave her an inkling of the problem. So she gathered up all her wits, and said in the most Dommely voice she could manage, “No.”

Cash whined, “Pleeeeease?”

“No. No, you may not go off with… these two tonight.” It was the most unconvincing domme voice ever heard, according to both Delores’s and Cash’s account, but it was enough to disappoint the dazed girl and her Master. They were sad, but they knew they’d won Cash over, and their threesome had only been thwarted by the despotic and arbitrary rulings of a jealous and mean ol’ Domme.

At least, they thought they knew that, and that made them feel better. So they slunk back onto the dancefloor, and paid more attention to each other. They’d both just been certified sexy, by an independent party. The girl more than her Master, but his honour was satisfied. 

Meanwhile Delores was still giving Cash the thousand-yard stare. “What,” she asked, “the buggering hell was that about?” 

Cash kissing Delores (Delores’s perspective)
Girlgerms!

So Cash explained, the pick-up on the dancefloor had led to Cash fucking the girl with her face, in the women’s toilets, and the girl’s Master wanting Cash to go off with them, and she didn’t want the Master to get shitty with his girl because she’d scored with Cash and he hadn’t.

So she’d done the right thing to get everybody out of a difficult situation.

And hey, thanks for your help, Delores, that “no” of yours was really powerful, just like the real thing. 

But Delores hadn’t got past the “face-fuck in the toilets” part of Cash’s story yet. “And… you kissed me with THAT mouth?” 

[The End.]

 

Another note:

Obviously, that’s where that story has to end. More events happened, when Arethusa and Cash and I went off together a bit later, and our night together. That was a steamy night, and some time it’ll make a good story too. In a different way. 

But next Wicked Week, I’m going back to fiction, and Maddie’s saga with her Wicked Headmaster. 

 

Wicked Wednesday: The Kiss 6

Note:

The previous instalment of this story is here. But we finished with Cash having girl on girl sex kisses with another girl on the dancefloor, then racing her off into the Women’s toilets. 

Because Delores didn’t go in after them, we’re going to switch to Cash’s point of view for the next half hour or so of this story. 

Cash in the Women’s

Cash had a starry-eyed girl in tow, hand in hand. The wide-eyed girl had never done anything girl on girl before, but music, dance, alcohol and Cash’s irresistible energy had turned her on, massively, and she was very keen to experience whatever happened next.  

Cash had liked Arethusa, and fancied her. The knowledge that she was invited into Arethusa’s and my bed, some time early in the morning, or later that night, was exciting too. But in the meantime she had a pretty girl, obviously submissive, wanting her attention. So she grabbed the girl’s hair at the back of her head and kissed her again. 

There were other women passing, so the couple pashing near the door were a bit on display. A sort of tasteful centerpiece.

Club Bento isn’t the sort of place where anyone, including straight women, will mind the sight of two pretty girls making out. So the starry-eyed girl got compliments for being a good girl for her Mistress.

Cash never even asked that girl’s name, and never knew it, but she did know that the girl was finding the compliments mildly humiliating and hot as fuck, all at once. So she upped the ante and pushed her up against the wall. She flipped up the girl’s little tartan skirt, and pulled her panties down. The girl closed her eyes. Once the panties were at her knees, Cash pushed them down to her ankles with her boot, and kissed her again, with her hand on, and then partly in, her cunt. 

Club Bento isn’t a sex-on-premises venue, by the way. If a bouncer had found them they’d have been thrown out for putting the club’s licence at risk.

But the bouncers didn’t go into the loos, or the seating in the dark where the girl next to me had just sucked her Master off, and I was using Arethusa as my cunt-puppet, still at the edge of coming with three of my fingers in her, but not allowed to come. Or make a sound. 

Cash stroked the girl, who was now wild-eyed and trembling, until she was nearly ready. At the last second she dropped to her knees, and finished the girl off with her tongue and lips, getting her face quite thoroughly wet. Eventually the girl moaned, then shouted, her arms flat against the wall as if she were being crucified, and she fell forward, onto Cash’s back, moaning, stroking her and calling her mistress. 

But Cash was done, for now. She stood up, kissed the girl, face shiny-wet with her fluids, and helped her with her panties. She said, “You’re really cool! And fucking pretty! But I’ve got to dance now.” 

Cash left, and the girl followed her out: she was a bit dazed, and she wanted more of that sort of thing. And she, the girl, bumped into her Master, who’d seen her go into the toilets with another girl, and knew something good was happening that he wasn’t part of. But now the two girls were out, and one of them was his submissive, and there was another girl with her. He knew he had a threesome lined up. 

His idea was on these lines, except he’d need a bigger shirt

But he didn’t. He was a little softer-bellied than Cash liked, and he had unfashionable hair. So this dom spanked his submissive, standing up, for going off without him. And then he said to Cash, “Come with us.” He was using the command voice to someone who hadn’t submitted to him, and for Cash that absolutely confirmed his complete unfuckability.

The scene in the toilets may make Cash seem a little heartless, but she’s not that at all. She was just living in the moment. So she knew that if she turned the guy down, he’d take it out on his girl, and she’d have a horrible night instead of the brilliant one she’d been having until then. 

She remembered seeing Delores, just before going into the toilets. “Yes, that’d be great,” she said, politely. “I’ll just ask have to ask my Mistress for permission.” 

[To be continued]

Wicked Wednesday: The Kiss 5

The story so far…

I take my loved slave Arethusa to Club Bento, a bdsm nightclub. I meet an ex-submissive of mine, Delores, who is showing the club to Cash, who turns out also to be an ex of mine. 

(If you spend enough time being a really dedicated slut, as I had been before Arethusa, then the chances of you having had sex with at least two or three people in any given nightclub in your city starts to approach 100%. The same applies to bdsm sex and bdsm nightclubs.) 

Eye contact? Not _always_

Arethusa and Cash eye each other off, and it’s agreed, non-verbally, that Cash, Arethusa and I are bound for my bed, some time in the early hours of the morning. But Cash goes off dancing, then Delores goes looking for a dom to bruise and fuck her that evening. Arethusa and I go and get lovey-dovey in a dark area where there are seats and, in our case, champagne. 

But now this story will follow Delores for a while.

Now read on…

Delores still had her glass of champagne, because she wasn’t really much of a drinker. Still, it made her look elegant, and gave her something to do with her hands while she looked around. 

Bedroom eyes. Leather panz. What more do you want?

A young man came over, dressed in tight leather pants that squeaked when he walked. His name was Marty, and he’d wanted to be her Master once. She’d been interested, until he’d tied her up and flogged her far harder than she’d agreed to. When she’d told him to stop, he’d said he was punishing her, so safewords didn’t count. When he released her, he told her she’d been a good girl. She’d slapped him hard, and told him to fuck right off. 

But here he was, with one hand on her shoulder, turning her round. “Hey, Delores!” He made to kiss her. 

Arethusa isn’t afraid of men, because she’d never been with one who’d wanted to harm her. But Delores has had a different life. She isn’t afraid of men because she’d experienced the worst, the very worst, they can do. She said, “I haven’t told many people what a pathetic, sick little fuck you are. I need to fix that. And if you don’t get your hand off me and fuck off in two seconds, you fucked-up little coward, I’m calling a bouncer.”

He went from scowl to smile in about a second. “Jesus, Mary-Jo, chill out for god’s sake. I’m just sayin hello.”

Mary-Jo was her given name, which she’d rejected. Marty was insulting her by using it, but in a deniable way. He was a passive-aggressive, whiny little sadist. When the two seconds were up and Marty was still there, she shouted, “Hey, Ron!” Ron the bouncer, not a small man, headed her way.

Marty snarled, “Crazy fucking bitch” and disappeared into the crowd in the dark.

Ron arrived. “”Hey, Delorry, you ok?” 

“I’m ok. Keep an eye on that little shit who was pestering me. And…” 

“Yep?” Ron, a sensible man, remembered Delores, liked her and trusted her judgment. 

“He’s a non-consent player.” Ron bristled. They give bdsm, and doms in particular, a bad name. But he said nothing, waiting. “If you see him getting lucky with anyone, it’d be a favor to all womankind if you fucked up his night.” 

“Ok. Done. Thanks for the tip. I don’t think he’s coming in here again. I mean, he can do what he likes, but he’s not getting in the door.” 

“Good.” Delores tiptoed and kissed him on the cheek. He clutched the spot, as if overcome. He smiled and, as he was walking away, turned and blew her a kiss.

Scuse fingers. (And no orgasms allowed.)

So that was a good outcome, she thought, but Marty had fucked up her mood for a bit. She looked for me, but I was kissing Arethusa with my hand under her tutu, and Arethusa was squirming nicely. She wasn’t allowed to come, and she was wondering about begging, with another Master and his slavegirl sitting so close. I slipped a third finger into her.

So Delores looked for Cash, instead. She turned around (I hadn’t seen her), and went to check the dancefloor. 

Girls, eh. What can you do?

And so she saw Cash on the edge of the dancefloor, kissing another girl, with the girl pushed a little back and Cash’s hand on her arse. Cash had kissed many girls; the other girl hadn’t. This was new for her: twenty-one and never been kissed. Not by a girl, anyway. But it was an intense, sex kiss. 

Delores, for all her many virtues, doesn’t really see that girl-on-girl can be a real thing, so she approached them instead. But before she’d got in range, Cash had grabbed the girl’s hand and was pulling her, she following very willingly, into the women’s toilets.  

[To be continued.]

 

Wicked Wednesday: The Kiss 4

So the four of us swayed together, Arethusa and Cash, Delores and me. Arethusa was my current slave, Cash had never been a slave, but I’d introduced her to bdsm, in a relationship that lasted one night. We’d both wanted more, but circumstances were against us. It seemed we were about to have more. And Arethusa and Cash were new to each other, and fancied each other with all the power that comes from newness. 

Delores was my ex too, but she didn’t fancy girls at all. So she wasn’t for threesomes, or foursomes. Anyway, she wouldn’t fuck a man who wasn’t single, and I clearly wasn’t that. So our kiss was more affectionate. I had lots of things to ask her about how she’d been since we’d last met, which was a few months ago now. 

But it was Cash who broke the foursome. The dj had put on Daft Punk’s Get Lucky, and her ass needed to bop to it. She tried to drag Arethusa and me onto the floor, but Arethusa didn’t like electronica much, and I liked staying with Arethusa. So Cash raced back into the mix of dancers. 

So we watched Cash go, until she was on the dance floor, moving to a rhythm exactly twice as fast as Daft Punk, and I bought champagne for Arethusa, Delores and me. They keep the area around the bar in near pitch-darkness so you can’t see your change. You measure it by weight. They didn’t leave me much to carry, apart from the champagne. 

We talked for a while, the three of us. Delores and Arethusa were very different people, and they didn’t find much in common. Except me, I guess. I got the latest news from Delores, about her family, and whether she’d found a good dom yet. She hadn’t. I made encouraging remarks, but I didn’t have any dom friends I could recommend.

She told Arethusa an anecdote about the time I’d punished her for losing her purse, and how she’d finally stopped being careless after that. 

Arethusa smiled. “He’s good at that.” But I could tell she was finding Delores a little boring. That was a pity.  

Delores hugged me, and shook Arethusa’s hand. “Lovely to meet you. But I’m going to get fucked and bruised tonight. So I’d better do some circulating. See you soon.”

She went into the darker areas on the far side of the dance floor. I looked at Arethusa. “That was rude.” 

“I’m sorry, Master.” She looked down. “There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s a nice person. I just wanted time with you. On your own.”

“Don’t you want Cash?”

“Um.” She smiled. “Oh yes. She’ll be an ornament to our bed.”

“So what you just said, about just wanting me was bullshit, wasn’t it?”

“Um. Yes. I’m sorry, Master. I suppose I was being a snob.”

“I suppose that too. Hold out your hand.”

“Here?” Then she thought better of protesting. She held out her hand, palm flat upward, while I fished a narrow strip of leather, about a centimetre across, from my pocket. I gave her four strokes on her right hand. It’s a bdsm club. She had quite an audience by the time she got her fourth stroke. Her face clearly showed they’d hurt.

Arethusa isn’t an exhibitionist, but she liked being held in strict control. I said, “Other hand.” 

This time she obeyed quickly and properly, holding out her left hand palm up with a “Yes, Master.” I watched her eyes, and she watched mine while I gave her the next four strokes. 

She waited for permission. I nodded, and she shook her hands, as if she could waggle the pain into the air. Finally she gasped and said, “Thank you, Master.”

“That’s better. Good girl. Now come with me.”

I led her into the seats and tables in the dark. There was a space by the slavegirl who’d been surreptitiously sucking her Master’s cock. She was sitting up now, her task completed. She was immensely proud of herself, and introduced herself cheerfully, and mentioned that she’d caught the last few seconds of Arethusa’s punishment. So they were two good girls together.

They seemed to get on better than she had with Delores. I’d have to ask her later what that had been about. I didn’t think it was jealousy.

Her Master and I congratulated each other on the excellence of our good girls, so that they could hear it. And we talked about where we were from, and he made the joke about the lights around the bar that I used above. After a while, he sent his girl to get more champagne, and we sat back. Arethusa climbed onto my lap. I kissed her. She kissed me. She was happy again. 

In the meantime, Delores about to have a complicated night. So I’m going to leave Arethusa and me in comfort, and follow Delores’s adventures for the next episode or two. 

Wicked Wednesday: The Kiss 3

So I was at Club Bento, with my slavegirl Arethusa, with whom I was madly, passionately, in love. I was holding a tiny platinum blonde Chinese girl who’d jumped up on me with her legs round my waist and, because she wasn’t taking much care while she rocked against me, I’d put my hands on her ass to support her. She’d realised by then that I hadn’t recognised her, and that seemed to be hilarious as well. She was still beaming at me.

I looked her. It was her eyes and her mouth that did it. I said, “Qing!”

She kissed me. “Where’ve you been, stranger?”

“I’ve been here. I kept trying to call you, at your house. And I kept getting through to your housemates. Who were grumpy as fuck. And I left messages. Did they get through?”

“Not to me. They were stupid bastards, those people I lived with. And they thought you were that other guy, your asshole friend. So they probably thought they were doing me a good… Anyway, that’s a pity, but… Here we are!”

Er, artist’s impression. Cash still had her knickers on, though tugged down considerably

She fell forward, and we kissed. Eventually, because it seemed like a good idea I pulled her tiny skirt up, and tugged her knickers as far down as they’d go, on a girl who was straddling me. That provided a space of bare bottom that was tempting in every possible way, and in easy reach. I spanked her, hard, six times, while she squealed and hung on.

It seemed like a good idea to set the mood. Before she’d been my possession, Arethusa had been in a relationship with a lucky guy and another girl, and she liked threesomes.

I hadn’t delivered one for us yet. But it seemed likely that this would work out.

Finally I dropped the girl to her feet. “How come you’re calling yourself Cash?”

Cash, as I was getting used to calling her, tugged at her skirt. I smacked her bottom again, and said, “Leave it.”

She dropped her hand, skirt still round her waist, half her bottom bare. “Nickname, darling. Too many people couldn’t pronounce Qing. So they started calling me K-Ching, like a cash register. Then I changed it to Cash. I liked it, so it’s my name.”

“I like it too. Cash, this is Arethusa.”

The two girls looked at each other. Cash pointed her head at me. “You’re with him?” 

Arethusa said, neutrally, “Yes. I’m his property.” 

So Cash hugged her, and said, “Cool! Lovely to meet you! How long have you been together?” 

“About a year. When did you..?” 

“When I was an accountancy student. We’d known each other for about an hour, and by then he’d tied me up, whipped me, fucked me, and then taken my anal, uh, girlhood. So it was just one night, but it was memorable.” 

Arethusa looked at me. Our first night had been roughly similar, except that she’d preserved her anal virginity for another month. I’d taken it with more ceremony than I’d allowed Qing. Arethusa said, “That’s Master, all right.” 

I looked at her. She smiled at me, thank fuck. I pointed at Cash. She nodded.

Strictly, we’d agreed that she was property, and it wasn’t her decision who came to bed with us, or what she did with her body. There was a piece of paper that said that, among other outrageous things, signed by both of us. In reality, of course, a slavegirl is the most wonderful person in the universe to her owner, and no master with a clue wants to make his girl unhappy. 

I said to Cash, “Do you have, um, an owner of any sort?” 

This doesn’t represent reality. It’s a pretty good indicator of what I was thinking, though

She was still looking at Arethusa. They’d reached some sort of understanding. But she shook her head. “I’m more of a top these days. So…” 

I considered that, disappointed for a second. On the other hand, Cash still hadn’t pulled her skirt down, after I’d told her not to. So I pulled her and Arethusa into a hug. And then, though I didn’t expect her to come to bed with us, I reeled in Delores as well. And we held each other, swaying together, and Arethusa and Cash kissed, and, because Delores didn’t kiss girls, I kissed her. 

It was one of the most blessed moments of my life. But I’m going to disappear from this story soon, for a while, anyway. 

[To be continued]

Note:

This is the sequel to a story I told a couple of years ago. You can find Qing’s and my first encounter, when she was a very different sort of girl, here. Or you can look for it, under its title, “Mouth to Mouth: Qing’s story”. 

 

 

Wicked Wednesday: The Kiss 2

Note

I wrote the next episode of The Kiss before seeing the prompt. So you get story anyway! 

But for the share the love project, there are five blogs that keep making me think, “yes, that’s good,” and “I wish I’d said that”, and “word! That’s hot as fuck!”

And they are: 

The incandescent Cara Thereon: https://closed2.wordpress.com

The sultry F Leonora: http://fdotleonora.com

The untrousered Kilted Wookie: https://kiltedwookiewrites.wordpress.com/about/

The frankly indecent Kayla Lords: http://kaylalords.com

The uncammied Cammies on the Floor: http://cammiesonthefloor.com

All of them are just wonderful, sensual writers. Enjoy!

 

The Kiss 2

I saw a red-haired woman, waving at me. She’d been my submissive nearly ten years ago. We’d separated because at the time I’d been a very committed dom-slut. I was honest and open about it, but she wanted a settling-down kind of dom, and that was not me. 

But I’d introduced her to bdsm, at her request, and to the city, which she didn’t function in  at first. She was a country girl from a small town.

She lost valuables because she’d do things like put her bag down in shops and walk away from it. She’d attract predators because she’d go out and look in all directions at corners, so that people could notice that she was beautiful, confused and not remotely street-wise.

She was used to living among honest people who knew her. So I taught her wariness, and how not to draw attention to herself as prey. Sometimes I’d have to drive those lessons home, as doms will, so that her bottom would give her a sort of warning twinge when she had the urge to do something stupid.  So although we weren’t still together we were very much friends.

After she’d left me and launched herself as a sub-about-town, she’d changed her name to Delores. Her real name was Mary-Jo, which sounds like a Dukes of Hazzard name but it was real, and I liked it. She was wise waiting till she’d ended our dom/sub relationship before changing it to Delores. I’d never have allowed it. Anyway it was done.

So when she’d come up and hugged me and rubbed her face all over mine, I eventually disengaged and introduced her. “This is Arethusa, my slavegirl. And this – “

“Ohhh, you lucky girl!” That’s the sort of thing you want your ex-submissives to say to your current submissive. “I hope he’s…” She stopped, since she still had enough country girl in her not to want to say things like “beating and fucking you often and hard” to a stranger. 

But Arethusa got that: she nodded, smiling. So I said, “And Arethusa, this is Delores. My wonderful ex.” That was the first time I’d ever used the new name. Mary-Jo/Delores knew I wasn’t enthusiastic about her re-branding. But it was time to stop being a shit about it: Delores she was. 

So the two women looked at each other. I said, “So I’m showing Arethusa the wonders of Club Bento. But I thought you said you didn’t come here any more?” 

“I don’t really. I’m showing the place to a friend of mine. I seem to have lost her.” She frowned, and looked around. Eventually the strobe lights from the dance floor pointed in the right direction, because she shouted, “Hey, Cash! Come’ere!” 

A tiny and energetic Chinese girl, with a platinum Louise Brooks cut, turned around. She wore a white bra and a tiny black leather skirt that possibly had more zips than it had leather, and hugged her arse except for the bottom two inches of buttocky undercurve, because the skirt stopped before it got there.

She looked over, and edged her way across the dancefloor to us. “Someone you’ve got to meet!” Delores shouted.  

She emerged from the dance-scrum, looking at Arethusa and me, and then, puzzled and more specifically, at me.

She shouted “Jaime!”

She jumped me and straddled my waist so that her crotch pressed against my cock. And it was necessary to support her by holding on to her ass. It really was necessary, for physics reasons as well as because of the excellence of that ass.

All that was good, obviously, but I wanted to get to the introduction part of the conversation quickly. This couldn’t be making Arethusa happy. 

But I had a problem. I had no idea who this girl, beaming at me like a searchlight, might actually be.

Maddie takes a break; I go to a bdsm club

I’m going to take a short break from Maddie’s and Jennifer’s adventures, because there’s another story I was meaning to tell this year. It should only be a few episodes long, and I want to at least begin it this year. It’s the sequel to a story I told a couple of years ago. I’m not going to say which story yet, because if you’ve been reading this blog there’s a Surprise coming. 

Unlike the adventures of Jennifer and Maddie, this is a true story. 

The story is called “The Kiss”. Ahem.

The Kiss

A few years ago I owned and loved Arethusa, a girl who was cooler and better-looking than me, and didn’t look like an idiot when she danced. She was wise and smart. So I was smitten. For quite a while she’d been begging me to take her to the local bdsm nightclub, because she’d never been to anything like that.

I wanted to take her there and watch her reactions to the whipping bench, and some of the acts who came out at mid-night. The acts were burlesque, essentially, with a very mild bdsm edge, but they were pretty sexy and sexily pretty. I thought she’d enjoy them.

Unfortunately, it took six months for us to go, because I’d declared that taking her to Club Bento (not its real name) would be a reward for good behaviour. Unfortunately, the club’s events generally coincided with her having done something like getting low marks in an university exam, or putting an essay in late.

One of a Master’s duties is to reward and punish, and I couldn’t reward that. So on that night she’d usually find herself tied naked over my dining room table getting a severe caning, and listening to me lecturing her about doing her coursework.

Arethusa didn’t enjoy getting the cane, instant by instant. However, she loved being a girl whose Master kept her under strict discipline, and she knew that punishing her turned me on. It turned her on, too, a few minutes after the actual hurty part had stopped. And the sex after severe discipline tended to be spectacular. So her disciplinary evenings weren’t so bad.

But she still wanted to go to the club.

Finally, she spent a month doing her work, and got a high mark for an essay. So that night she dressed in boots and a midnight-blue tutu, and her collar, on a rather pretty pink silk leash. She had long, straight darkish-blond hair, which she seldom did anything special with, but tonight she’d put it up. 

I dressed in black, as doms do, with knee-high leather boots with enough zips and buckles to send an airport security machine into beeping, binging hysterics.

So she was thrilled to be at the club, and I was pleased to be holding the leash of the prettiest girl in the room. (She might not have been, really, but she was and is pretty and I was extremely biassed.)

There was plenty for her to see. A lot of vanilla girls came to the bdsm club for the same reason they went to gay clubs: it was a reasonably cool crowd, and doing anything without consent was disapproved of. And if some man didn’t take a hint whern it came from girls, he’d have it explained to him by the bouncers. So it was a safe place for pretty young girls who just wanted to dance. And Arethusa’s previous lover was a woman, so she liked watching pretty girls too.

It wasn’t supposed to be a sex-on-premises venue, but I took her for a tour of some of the darker corners. There was a girl kneeling under one of the tables sucking her dom’s cock, and elsewhere a Domme was masturbating her slaveboi, who, I assume, wasn’t allowed to come.

So it was living up to Arethusa’s idea of what a decadent bdsm club should be like. 

But about ten, I heard my name. An ex-submissive of mine had seen me, and she was shouting out, “Hey, Jaime!” 

Wicked Wednesday: Moral support

Sir’s cock was inside my mouth, but he wasn’t moving any more. His hands released my hair and stroked my head gently. At last he said, “Good girl, Maddie.”

I moved my lips along his shaft, and kissed the head, all velvet even when it was hard. He said, “Good girl,” again, so I was doing the right thing. “Suck me clean, girl.” I slid my tongue around his cock, to show I’d been reading, but mostly I used my lips. Eventually I nodded, mouth still on his cock, which wasn’t quite as hard as it had been.

He pulled out at last. He put his cock back into his underpants and zipped up his fly. “All right, little Maddie. You’ve been a very naughty, manipulative little brat, haven’t you?”

I should have been terrified, but he was smiling. I hung my head, pretending to be ashamed, and said, “Yes, Sir, I’ve been a very naughty and manipulative little brat. I bet I deserve… anything, Sir.”

“Ha. Well, I bet you deserve everything. But there’s plenty of time for that. Now, you heard me tell Lucy she’s going to get her first caning in this office at four o’clock.”

“Yes, Sir.” I was still on my knees.

“And you’re going to be here too. And I’ll either cane you both side by side, alternating strokes, or we’ll have it that you hold her down with her head between your thighs while I cane her, and then she holds you down. Lucy seemed to quite enjoy that. So did you, of course. Which would you prefer?”

“I don’t know, Sir. I suppose side by side. We could hold hands.”

He gave me the look that said, Maybe.

He wasn’t asking me what to do; he’d never do that. He was just getting my preference, for information. “Well, we’ll see. And after I’ve caned both of you, I’m going to take you home. To fuck you.”

“Oh yes, Sir.”

“You two seem to have become friends. I’m not going to fuck Lucy. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight is yours.”

“Yes, Sir. But I might like to have Lucy with me. She could watch me getting fucked?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. I suppose she could fetch things for us. Help out, do as she’s told, give you moral support. And yes, if she wanted she could be there when I fucked you. If that’s what you want. She’d have to want that too.”

I thought. In one way I wanted him all to myself. Especially tonight. But I was going to have exclusive use of his cock tonight, and that was the important thing. “This sounds weird, Sir, even to me. But yes, I’d like her to be with us.”

“All right. Then sound her out, without giving her too much information. Just to sat you’re getting special lessons, tonight. If she sounds positive about that, then you can see if she’s agreeable. But if you both want then she can come too. Except she won’t come. Well, not by my doing, anyway.”

“Does this mean, Sir, I can watch when you fuck her? Later?” I took it for granted that he would, not tonight but soon. It felt like forming a family, in a way. I felt that I was being warm and generous.

Though I wanted to hear Lucy’s orgasm cry. I really desired that.

I’d never felt anything for a girl before, but there was something about Lucy. I wanted to worship her body. And I wanted to cane her till she screamed, and to force her to lick my cunt while the tears ran down her face. It felt so strange wanting that. And it felt good knowing that it was now a real possibility.

Sir watched me, then nodded. He took a handful of my hair and pulled me to my feet. “Time you went to class, Maddie. I’ll give you a note saying you’re late because you’ve been caned. But…” He held out his hands, and I rushed forward, pressing my body against his. We cuddled, holding each other so tight. I kissed him, though my mouth still tasted of his come, to me, but he didn’t seem to mind.

At last he smacked my bottom. “Put your clothes on now, girl. And go to class. You’ll talk to Lucy at lunch. And you’ll see me after school. Now: Go!”