Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 06

Part Six of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. yes, I know it's July now; I've been busy, OK?

Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise - well - you know who you are.

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Six Geese A-laying When I awoke the following morning, my hand was on Tasha's bare ass (even in my sleep I couldn't leave these women alone). She stirred and wriggled under my touch, and her long-lashed eyes opened slowly. She looked back over her shoulder, blinking, and there was a moment when we both realised hers was the only ass I hadn't had the previous day.

'You have to be kidding,' she whispered, and went back to sleep.

*****

We ate breakfast in a kind of relay, as people appeared from the two bedrooms, eyes half-closed against the brightness of a sunlit winter day. Mostly we ate what was left over from the night before, although Jessica fed bread into the toaster until it was threatened with burnout (I knew how it felt) and I made coffee and poured orange juice.

We looked around the detritus of the kitchen and dining area. The apartment was a mess. Just looking at made me tired (OK, that wasn't the only reason).

'Did Cat get anywhere finding us an actual maid?' I asked.

'She got distracted,' Jessica said, with a grin playing across her mouth. Orla and Lisa giggled filthily.

'If you had a maid, Paul, would you really want her to be cleaning?'

'Only his cock,' whispered Diane, and then she covered her mouth as if she was shocked that she said it out loud. Her eyes had a dark gleam in them, though.

Jessica and Lisa were whispering about something. Orla went over to join in. I knew they were plotting and so I went over to the window seat, and looked out over the street. Snow was piled high on the sidewalk, and more was falling slowly. Everything looked really peaceful outside, and the streetlamps and the glow from the store windows on the far side of the road lit up the white snow, and bathed the scene in an eerie glow.

Tasha came over and parked herself in my lap, winding her soft brown arms around me. I kissed her cheek affectionately.

'Are you disappointed that you didn't get all five gold rings?' she asked.

'I didn't think about it, Tasha. I mean, am I supposed to fuck a girl for each number in the story? Because if I am, by the time we get to twelve drummers drumming or whatever it is, I'll need hospitalisation.'

She giggled and played her fingers through my hair. 'I just didn't want you to think I had chickened out,' she said.

That hadn't really occurred to me, but the thought did cross my mind right then that this really was a surreal Christmas, and the most amazing present. I wondered what had motivated some of the women to agree... Diane, Cat and yes, Tasha. Tasha had a boyfriend, who we rarely encountered, and she would often disappear out of our social circle for weeks at a time. But when she was around, she and Lisa could be pretty inseparable, and the two of them were incredibly close to Jessica too. By extension, that meant that I had made love to Tasha a few times, and seen her with my lover several more times. Tasha just belonged with us, and although she didn't treat the apartment as a second home in the same was as Lisa, she was a frequent visitor. I recalled the first day of this adventure, and the three of them in the den, laughing and plotting together.

'Don't worry about it, Tasha.'

She kissed my head, then got up to recover the rest of her clothes. Amazingly, she was going to try to get to work.

Jessica was on the phone for about an hour after that, so I took a long bath, and did a few of those daily chores, like checking my email and making sure Minx was fed and pampered. Our spoiled and superior cat stalked the apartment and made sure she knew who all the participants were, looking like a tabloid journalist as she rooted around in the bedroom, pulling at the tangled sheets, searching for clues for our depravity.

Jessica came to find me as I straightened the bed. She was grinning.

'What have you been plotting?' I asked.

'Just a little embellishment on my plans for the day.'

I scratched my head. 'Six geese a-laying,' I said. 'The 'laying' bit sounds fun. But geese?'

'Don't take it so literally,' Jessica grinned, 'or you will be bitterly disappointed with the lords a-leaping.'

'Let's hope so.'

'You free at about three this afternoon?' she asked. I nodded, knowing that the only thing I really did have to complete was her present. 'Can you keep Orla entertained until then too?'

'Pass my Viagra,' I groaned.

Jessica howled with laughter, her deep, rich voice full and sensuous. She crawled over the bed and kissed my mouth deeply, stroking my cock with one hand, and running the fingers of the other through my hair. 'Save your strength, lover.'

'Don't tell me, tell her!'

*****

Luckily, Orla was in the mood for museums and galleries, and we had a leisurely lunch at a brasserie. She was really good about not dragging me into too many shops as we walked back to the building through the darkening afternoon, but she did purchase a few gifts to take back to Ireland.

'Just what did you tell people at home that you were coming here for?' I asked.

'Shopping!' she grinned. 'I'm more worried about getting home. They'll ask me what I got up to, and I'm going to have to tell them more than just a few museums!'

'Maybe we can take in a show,' I said, and I knew how stupid that sounded the moment the words were out of my mouth.

*****

It was a fraction after three when we got back into the apartment. There was no sign of Jessica, and I uttered a small groan at the sight of the kitchen and dining room still in the same state as before. Eventually, that mess was going to need to be tackled.

'There's a note from Jessica,' said Orla. 'It says you're to go to 2C at three. What's 2C?'

2C was a vacant apartment two floors down, the largest of the vacant spaces in the building, and a nice living space that Jessica was trying to find the right tenant for. Katherine and Lauren were the prime candidates.

'Have you ever had someone ask about the apartments whowasn't a woman Jessica wanted to sleep with?' giggled Orla as we took the stairs down. Naturally, she was tagging along.

'We don't exactly advertise in the local paper,' I replied, holding open the fire door onto the second floor. 'The whole point is that everyone who comes to live here is someone we know and Jessica trusts. She's not exactly a conventional landlord.'

'I'll say,' Orla grinned, and she waited at my side as I opened the door to 2C with the building master key. We stepped inside.

'Oh,' gasped Orla. 'Now this is what I call a show.'

*****

It was the most complicated part of my present to organise, Jessica confided in me later. She had had to juggle the availability of the participants, the builders who were renovating the apartment, a couple of guys who had installed the more specialised extras, lighting, everything. I swear there was a moment when all this went through my mind, when I was just awe-struck with the inventiveness and organisational skills of my amazing lover. No more than a moment, though. Mostly, I just gaped.

How do I even start to describe this? The apartment was centred on a square living space, with an unfitted kitchen/diner to one side. The living space was in a sort of well, a couple of steps down from the entrance lobby and the kitchen, with short stairways climbing to the bedroom and bathroom. Lights shone down from the walls, while a coloured tarp had been drawn up to shield the wide windows, which overlooked the back of another building across an inner courtyard. The tarp was backlit; no-one would be able to see in.

The well had been temporarily furnished with all kinds of chairs, cushions, pillows and throws, gathered from who knows where, an eclectic jumble sale of modern and period pieces, in myriad colours and fabrics. Some modern garage cuts I didn't recognise but wouldn't be listening to played from a sound system I couldn't locate. It was the only thing that didn't quite seem 'Jessica'.

My lover was sitting on a worn chrome and leather sixties couch, looking relaxed and mischievous as she sipped Chardonnay. Lisa was at the other end of the couch, at a distance which suggested that if they had been any closer they would have been unable to keep their hands off each other. Katherine and Laurie were not so restrained, and were curled around each other on a heap of rugs in one corner of the well. Tasha was on the arm of a huge chair, and I was surprised to see her man had accompanied her, and that he was was sitting with his arm protectively around her waist. Interesting.

The other two guests were Diane and Cat, only they didn't look quite as comfortable as the others. Both were blinking in the glare of cold white spots mounted on the walls, while everyone else was in warmer, more intimate pools of light. As Orla and I arrived, the two women, who were more or less facing the door, turned their heads up to face me, and I heard the soft susurration of chains, along with the whisper from Diane's mouth of "Oh God" and the familiar mewl of Cat's arousal. The look on their faces was priceless; eyes wide, mouths open; the harsh lighting making their pale faces almost white.

The chains that bound their wrists lifted their hands above their heads, and were threaded through loops screwed into the ceiling. Small hand winches set to the side suggested the chains could be tightened or loosened. At the moment, the two women were kneeling on piles of rugs and cushions, their arms vertical at the sides of their faces. Each movement they made caused the silvered chains to clink, and they twisted from the leather straps around their wrists.

The only clothing either wore was a tiny g-string - gold for Diane, silver for Cat - that did so little to shield their modesty, and everything to draw attention to their shaved mounds. Both had armlets and ankle-bracelets, and their faces had been made up exquisitely. They were like animated decorations, their bodies glittering, sheened with oil and nervous perspiration. Scattered on the floor around their knees were various toys and whips, a cane and boxes which doubtlessly contained other implements. Diane saw me looking at one of the soft-tailed leather cats, and her whole body shivered.

'Well, well,' I whispered. Jessica grinned, and beckoned me over to sit between her and Lisa, their seat being close by the two women, just in front of them. We kissed deeply, and I stroked my hand up and down her bare arm. Like most of the women, Jessica wore a simple cocktail dress, as if were attending a dinner party or drinks at more conventional friends. I felt Lisa run her fingers over the bones of my elbow, and turned back to kiss her cheek. Greetings continued around the room; there was even the formal introduction of Tasha's companion.

'Have you worked out what card they drew yet?' asked Lisa, who had a low opinion of my intellect (and perhaps with good reason).

'This one is easy,' I chuckled. Jessica had done the slave girl thing with me a few times, though never so elaborately. It was also a very different atmosphere too, because the two women looked genuinely anxious, while Jessica could be the most obstructive, teasing, independent slave you'd ever care to meet. I wondered what they had been told.

'Cat's been busy drawing cards,' I grinned, whispering against my lover's ear. Jessica nodded, smiling devilishly. Given that Cat was bound for the second time in a couple of days, I was more and more certain that the 'draw' had been fixed. But what about Diane? Surely she was too new...

'Charity had to pull out,' Jessica explained, reading my mind as usual.

'Would you believe she has taken an actual Master?' Lisa said, with a loud laugh. 'Seriously! He collared her a few nights ago, and she had to call Jessica to cry off.'

So Diane was a late substitute. Clearly she was being rapidly drawn into our little circle. I met her eyes again, and they were almost begging me, wide and bright. Was she begging to be released or for enslavement to be taken to new heights. Or did the idea of being collared by a master appeal to her. I was about to ask Jessica a question, but she must have been mind-reading again, because she placed her forefinger over my lips and told me to be patient.

She slipped out of the seat and I took her place. Lisa slid over the leather and placed her body warmly against mine. Orla came to sit on the edge of the well, her feet swinging above the floor, delight on her face.

'These two are your slaves tonight, my love,' Jessica purred, standing behind the two chained women. She took them both by the hair and pulled their head up and back. 'They are both expecting you to fuck them, and I know you won't disappoint them. But if you can think of any surprises, they both deserve to be shaken out of their complacency.'

Lisa leaned closer. Her voice was quite throaty, husky, as she whispered: 'Please let us use them too.' Her fingers unfastened a few buttons on my shirt, and then impatiently found their way to my erect cock, bulging under my pants.

We all relaxed, played, drank a little while and played some more. All of us, that is, except for Diane and Cat, who hung from their chains, looking pensive, apprehensive and somewhat hungry to join in. Lisa gave me a lingering blow job, sporting short of actually sucking me off - I presume the idea was to get my blood running a little hotter. Katherine and Laurie lost themselves in their own private reverie in the corner, which Orla crept over to watch. My Jessica teased and menaced the two slaves, turning them this way and that to watch the activity in the room.

Heartily aroused by Lisa, I went over to join her, standing behind the captives, looking down at them, over their shoulders. They were a delectable sight, their raised arms living their breasts, which heaved quickly as their breathing hastened; the skin was flushed with arousal, dewed with perspiration. They craned their heads round to look up at me with eyes flashing white; Cat was panting.

I took the cat first, twitching it lightly through the air, getting used to the hard leather grip in my fist. The tails made a very satisfactory swish through the air. Just the sound made the slaves' nipples harden. Diane rubbed her thighs together, shifting from one knee to the other; Cat was holding her legs so tightly together I thought she was frightened she might wet herself.

I moved around in front of the girls and lightly flicked the whip out at Cat's breasts. The tails stung her softly, and the chains rippled and sang as she rocked back, flinching and wincing, letting out a small yelp. I struck her again, more to one side, and then a third time, lower around her belly. She faced me defiantly each time, her body reddening softly, eyes gleaming white. I took the cat down across her thighs, and she mewled and cried and gasped, her mouth wide open, tongue licking at her lips.

Jessica went to the winch that held Diane's chain, and motioned for her to stand. Biting her hip, but with a defiant toss of her head that whipped her shoulder-length hair around her head, Diane did as she was told. Jessica slowly shortened the chain so that Diane was stretched up, her bare feet dancing in the soft folds of the cushions and rugs under her toes.

I switched to stinging her torso with the whip, and she turned and flinched away from each strike, but I was able to land a few brushing, light blows around her breasts and upper thighs. Her eyes never left mine. She was almost daring me to hit her harder; her nipples were like small dark bullets. Between her legs, the g-string had slid between the puffy lips of her pussy, and had darkened with her juices.

Cat was hauled up alongside Diane, and I treated them both to a few light strikes with the seven-tailed whip, contrasting how they cried with that strange mixture of fear and excitement, stimulated by the stinging caress of the leather tails. It was an erotic concoction of sounds and sights, and my cock was almost as hard as the grip in my hand.

I moved around behind Cat, and prised her buttocks apart, spreading her legs as wide as I could while she was still just about able to keep some small part of her feet on the floor. I had already been undressed by Lisa, and so all I had to do was position myself so that my hips were under Cat's, pull her soaked g-string to the side, and push up, and the girl was impaled fully on my erect cock.

Diane uttered such a cry if frustration Jessica gave her a few light strokes of the cane across her buttocks and then dropped to her knees to lick and kiss at her pussy from underneath.

I screwed my cock into Cat hard, watching Diane being eaten so ravenously at the same time. It was an amazing sensation. I've fucked Jessica standing up many times, but with Cat being held almost off her feet by the chain, it was a completely different sensation, as if she weighed nothing at all. Almost every motion she made rotated her left or right on the chain, and her flooding pussy twisted sensuously around on my cock. I did not last long under such sweet pressure, but ejaculated into her, gasping with deep pleasure while she sobbed loudly and clenched her muscles tightly around my cock.

As I made my way back to the couch, Jessica released Diane with orders to come and clean me with her mouth, which she did with great relish. The cuffs she wore had now been fastened behind her back by a short link of the same chain, and she knelt at my feet, bobbing her head furiously, licking my cock clean but also trying to work my erection back to life by the touch of her lips and tongue alone.

Jessica, Lisa and Tasha went to work on Cat with a vengeance. The poor girl was still hanging from her wrists, which looked a little chafed. Discomfort was the last thing on her mind, though, I suspect. Lisa spanked her sadistically, then used a very large dildo on her pussy, which Jessica had lapped at to taste my semen as it dripped from her. Tasha kissed her fiercely, and twisted her nipples with the long-nailed fingers of both hands. Between the three of them they fucked, sucked and licked Cat until she was orgasming so continuously, I don't think she took a single breath that wasn't a gasp or cry.

To her delight, Diane managed to make my cock hard a second time with her hungry mouth, but the thing about being a slave is that you do all the work for someone else to get the rewards. Orla came over, pulled her head back from my cock and straddled my lap to take my cock inside her. Diane squealed with rage, but before she could protest Lisa and Jessica fell on her. Jessica had wriggled into the harness of a strap on, which she forced Diane to first suck, and then take in her pussy; Lisa masturbated Diane's anus first with her fingers, then with a slender vibration. Soon Diane was screaming for mercy (or for more).

Orla slipped off my cock before the end, and she and Jessica together stroked my cock until it geysered over the faces of the two slaves. They ate my cum from each other's mouths, and were then spanked again for being so shameless. That just kept them in the same pitch of excitement.

The night continued in the same vein for some hours. While the guests were able to rest now and then, the two slaves were continually fucked and sucked, enjoyed from every angle and in every way, until they were barely able to stand. And when none of us had the strength to use them, Jessica had them serve drinks from silver trays, their feet bound at the ankles by similar collar and chain arrangements, that made them shuffle like geishas. Then, by common consent, we agreed that no arrangement that kept their legs closed made sense, so they were converted into tables and impromptu shot glasses, and we drank vodka, tequila and their juices until the bottles were dry (though not the women).