The Visitor Ch. 01

We pulled into the garage and M. told me to carry some things up and get the front door unlocked; and, she said, "None of our rules have changed. I don't expect to see all of those textiles now that we're home." I told myself just to not think about it. I unlocked the door then quickly stripped out of my shorts, panties and shirt. As the two beauties ascended the stairs, I knew Emma was checking out my situation, causing more swelling. She giggled as she knelt in front of me for a better look. "It's so small. What did you do for fun before you put that little thing in its rightful place?" she asked.

I should have been flattered; she was checking me out before our incredible ocean view caught her eye. But of course she was focused not on me but on the physical basis of my complete subservience. M. took her hand and pulled her back to standing. Then she caught the view across the infinity pool, the rainforest and out to a huge expanse of ocean.

Emma and M. crossed the living room, dropping articles of clothing on the way. They entered the pool together then turned, drawing each other into a tight embrace and kissing greedily. I'm sure I was staring, open-mouthed, at the two luscious creatures lovingly fondling each other. M. turned to me saying, "If you leave your mouth hanging open much longer, we'll have to think of something to fill it with. We want a little time alone. Why don't you start preparing that light dinner we discussed?"

They cavorted and laughed in the pool for quite a while. Then I heard them get out and head for "our" bedroom. From that point, as I heard the sounds of vigorous love-making, I thought about what I had seen and imagined the two of them touching, stroking, kissing, licking. I wondered if I would get to do any of those things.

Just as I was finishing up dinner preparations, the two of them emerged from our bedroom. Emma was wearing only a gauzy beach cover-up and M. just a lacy thong. That answered the question of how much flesh might be revealed to me—just about everything, so far. And the effect, as M. correctly anticipated, was rapid swelling in the cage, pushing it up and slightly away from my body.

M. said, "Come over here, lover. See what we can cause without lifting a finger."

"Oh my, the little thing wants out so badly now. Did we do that?," Emma asked.

"Yeah. Imagine his reaction if he had been with us earlier or if we pay more direct attention to him."

At that moment, Emma crossed the terrace to a spot directly in front of me, reached down, and began to caress my exposed and swollen balls. I went weak all of over and had to catch myself with a hand on her shoulder as my knees buckled. That generated an electric charge through my hand and up my arm. I stepped back before I could touch more of her and embarrass myself further, if that was possible at this point. Was I feeling some humiliation? It was such a rush, I hardly recognized the feeling and I knew for the first time what the suppressed desire for humiliation meant.

Seeing the force of the reaction, Emma asked, "Will I get to see more of that when we restrain him and tease him?"

M. responded, "You seem to understand what we're up to. This is going to be a lot of fun. Now lets smoke some reefer, drink a little wine and enjoy our dinner."

Although I cooked and served, the warm up and dinner itself almost had me forgetting the humiliating nature of the situation. We smoked, drank and ate together and much of the conversation was typical of that with any first time visitor: monkeys, rain, birds, the beach. But after we finished dessert and M. was feeling the wine and pot, it was obvious that sex again was foremost in everyone's mind.

Emma reached over and casually stroked the erect nipple presented by her hostess. M. slid a hand to her crotch, rubbing gently, and said, "Come here, little man, and stand between us." I did as directed and each of them began to play the fingers of one hand lightly across my swollen balls while they touched each other with slow playful strokes. After a few moments, they each lost interest in me and leaned across the chair arms to embrace and kiss. And they continued until both of them were panting.

M. said, "We can play with him tomorrow but I think tonight is just for us. Help me put him to bed in the other room so we can play without worrying about what perverted things he may be trying to do."

"Putting me to bed in the other room" was a new concept but one that M. had given some thought to. When I pulled down the Murphy bed, I could see wrist cuffs already attached to the headboard. "Lie down on the bed and raise your arms over your head," said M. as she and Emma reached to attach a cuff to each of my wrists. When she was satisfied that I wasn't going anywhere, M. told me to raise my legs as high as I could.

"Does he always comply with your commands like this?" Emma asked.

"Most of the time, because he knows if he is a good boy he will get to cum again sometime, but, if not, who knows."

Then M. opened a drawer a pulled out a bottle of lube. When she began to rub it around what she made me call "my man pussy," I moaned and rolled slightly side-to-side. SMACK. "Don't you move until I'm done here." I felt one and then two fingers inserted and swirled around and I let out a louder moan.

"He appears to like that," Emma said. To which M. replied, "Wait just a moment until he gets his surprise for the night." I felt the tip of something at the lubed up entrance to my sex and then a large dildo was pushed way inside of me, prompting an involuntary "Oh! Yes!" to escape my lips. But that wasn't the surprise; it came a moment later when M. raised a rubber bulb connected to a tube into my line of sight.

She squeezed the bulb once and I felt the plug in my sex expand. Then three quick squeezes and I was overwhelmed with the stretching of my tight hole. It hurt but I wanted it to continue. I guess my wishes do get fulfilled because at that moment, M. said, "That should keep him aroused for us through the night," and the two of them left the room and turned out the light. I slept restlessly.

The next morning I was awakened by the scent of M. as she lowered herself onto my face. My tongue responded as trained. While I licked her to a morning orgasm, she spoke slowly and loudly, so I could clearly hear her, as could anyone else on our property. "I hope I don't have to reassure that you are and will always be my one true love. I hope this week advances the evolving meaning of our relationship. I love you. Oh yes!!!"

Then, as she came down, "I'm going to remove the inflatable butt plug in a moment. I know you have been enjoying it a little too much. After your morning rituals, I want you to do two enemas. When you are thoroughly clean, insert the new plug waiting for you in the bathroom. I think Emma needs me."

She deflated the plug and pulled it out, leaving me with an empty feeling even as her cock swelled out of the ventilation slits. All of this meant only one thing—I was going to be fucking in the only way I had to look forward to.

The two of them were lying out by the pool while I was attempting to get some things done in the house. M. told me to bring them each a glass of juice. I poured two large glasses of mango nectar over ice, set them on a tray and carried them to the terrace. Of course I was in my usual home lack of attire, wearing only my cage and the huge but unseen metal plug I had found, as promised. The narrow part was as fat as the inflated plug last night and the head took forever to work in. It hurt but was still stimulating as my new form of masturbation—inserting objects into my man pussy.

M. and Emma were relaxing on lounges in the mid-morning sun. Having set up the chairs and side table for them and watched them come out of the house, I knew they each wore a tiny thong—new to me so probably a gift from Ms. Emma—and nothing else. After last night, it was hard to imagine any modesty left between the two of them, so I suspected the minimal coverage was intended as more of an enhancement of their ripe sexuality toward each other and a tool for their teasing of me.

Once they had relaxed on the lounges, I went about my work, hoping the mundane tasks would ease the pressure from my cage. I basically forced myself to ignore them until I was summoned. I didn't need to glance their way to see the image of my love and her lover almost nude, including the observation that M., who normally kept herself trimmed was now completely smooth for the first time. The thongs were tiny and sheer enough to notice that. Her cock filled the cage to its maximum with that vision.

When I came out with the juice, I stepped between the lounges to place the glasses on the small table between them. As I bent to set the glasses down Emma reached up and very lightly stroked a purple fingernail from the top of my butt cheek toward the center and down to my upper thigh. Involuntarily, I moaned and slightly thrust my ass toward her finger.

"You were absolutely right M. He is obviously a complete anal slut. Did you see how his body begged to be fucked?" asked Emma.

"Well, that isn't complete yet. There's a little more training involved to get to where we want to be."

"Where is that?"

"It's that place that 'he' cums only with anal penetration and no stimulation of that locked-up boy clit. Where we could unlock him and fuck my cock senseless, stroke him for hours, take turns sucking and licking him, and he would only cum when we filled his ass with something big and hard. Right now you can see what he does to himself when I let him, a giant steel plug to make sure his pussy is ready for all takers."

"You said 'We.' If it's not an inappropriate question, how does he feel about that and us casually discussing it in his presence."

M. said, "First look at my cock straining to get bigger in its prison. See it pulse and try to swell. That's the first sign he is turned on sexually. Even in the cage, the reaction is noticeable. Right now there is no telling exactly what's going through his mind without asking, but our toplessness and this sex talk, not to mention your stroke down his stuffed ass, have both of his brains focused."

"One of the ways I got him this far, after he basically asked for it, was just to keep him naked and watch what caused him to get hard. With talk, a man can deny anything, but an engorged cock doesn't lie; just identify the immediate stimulation and you know what turns him on. And, of course, there is a certain degree of pre-existing submissiveness that will cause him to get aroused even by things he finds intellectually repulsive."

Through this I stood casually between them. We don't practice routine BDSM discipline, so I only have to assume postures when ordered. My inability to touch myself or get hard seems to be enough continuous control for M. It is extremely humiliating to be discussed like a piece of meat but M. knew from her "tests" that I craved such humiliation in the presence of other people.

"One interesting revelation happened when I had him tied to the bed but free of his cage," M said. "I brought him to the edge 8 or 10 times without orgasm. Then after he calmed down again, I began talking to him about specific sexual scenarios and possible acts of submission. I already knew he wanted to be humiliated in front of another woman or group of women. I brought up the extension of that idea to mixed groups of dominant women and their subs. My cock was already hard but I saw it swell and pulsate, so I suggested that someday he would beg to suck on live flesh. The cock engorged even more, he moaned and began humping the air."

"So you can understand how he reacted to your touch a moment ago. You were near his most erogenous zone in his current predicament and his body wanted more."

"Ask him what he wants from you," M suggested.

Emma turned slightly on her side, first looking at M's imprisoned cock, then raising her head to look me directly in the eye. "Well at this point there is little left to the imagination," she said, "but tell me any fantasies you have about me."

I looked at M. and she told me to speak freely as long as "you don't embarrass me with some macho threesome bullshit."

I took a breath and said, "Ms. Emma, my fantasy and my desire are the same; I want to provide pleasure to you while you stay with us."

"Isn't that a little dangerous for you without knowing what gives me pleasure?" she asked.

"No, Ms., M. will always look after me and, if she wants or allows something to happen, it will be good for me."

"Is there anything you would say 'I hope that happens' about?"

With M.'s smiling glance telling me I was on safe-ground for now, I said, "Ms. Emma, I really hope to have an opportunity to use my tongue to bring you a great deal of pleasure."

M. sat forward, leaned across and pulled down Ms. Emma's thong, revealing thick, full lips that glistened in the sun from their accumulated moisture. Emma didn't flinch, rather, she sensuously spread her legs wider, displaying her entrance to heaven, and smiled broadly. M. said, "I told her how talented your tongue has become and, by the looks of it, she's ready. Why don't you show her?"

Emma pulled her tiny thong the rest of the way off and scooted down on the lounge so that her legs dangled over each side and her heavenly center was fully exposed. I quickly threw a towel on the deck at the foot of the lounger and knelt, staring fixedly at the full, smooth, glistening labia that were waiting for my attention.

I glanced at M. and she nodded almost imperceptibly my signal to proceed. I leaned forward and kissed the inside of Emma's thigh, then again higher up, slowly repeating until my face was inches from its goal. I glazed the tip of my tongue up one silky lip and down the other. I blew warm breath at the spot where her clit was peeking out from its hood. Then I extended my tongue and licked her slit deeply from bottom to top. That drew a moan and a small pelvic thrust, indicating I was on the right track.

M. said, "Be sure to tell him what you like. He listens and takes direction very well, or else."

Emma's pussy was almost gushing. I started to fuck her with my tongue, pushing it in as far as I could. Her hips began to move slightly in rhythm with my thrusts. She choked out, "lick your finger, then rub my asshole with it."

I wet my middle finger in my mouth and then slipped it around to her other orifice, finding more than enough lubrication had run down from her now gaping lips. I dove back in with my tongue extended as I swirled my finger tip around her rosebud and then gently pushed it into her tight hole. It felt as if my finger was then sucked in as far as it would go.

Juices were gushing on my tongue and face and she began to move on my finger, encouraging me to fuck her ass with my finger in rhythm with my tongue in her pussy. She groaned very loudly and all of a sudden my face was covered in her warm discharge and she was writhing against my tongue and finger. M. pulled Emma's hand away from the back of my head and leaned in for a long kiss as she pushed my drenched face back from its moment of stimulating her lover.

"Is that what they call a 'squirter,'" asked M., looking down at me and then at Emma's glistening mound.

"Yeah, I guess so; but that was extra intense," Emma replied. "Is that your training?"

M. just smiled and signaled for me to move away as she said, "Don't wash your face. We want you to enjoy your pleasure as long as possible." Then she stretched out on the same lounge as the momentarily sated Emma. And I, taking the cue to find somewhere else to be, went back inside.

I heard Emma say, "Muchas gracias. Seriously, how did he learn to do that? If it's training I want to send Jack right away."

M. replied, "It is training but you do it yourself at home. Can you get him locked up?" That's where to start...."

Despite the excitement of my first taste of new pussy, I found myself thinking that M. was pleased because Emma was satisfied. The thrill for me in getting another woman off was twofold: M. would be pleased and that helps me get closer to an orgasm; and, it was like an exam of my progress in submission and I passed.

The sensations from the giant steel plug had not diminished. It's difficult to say I got hornier than I had been for weeks but it felt like a new plateau. This was no longer a "game" between M. and me but had become who we are to our visitor. That thought sent me further down the path and I felt a need to calm myself in preparation for possible afternoon fantasy fulfillment.