A Day in the Life of My Sub Slut Ch. 08

As I pass the bartender, I throw three twenties on the bar -- "A round of drinks for Big Joe and his boys. And these other fine gentlemen" -- then follow Scar and the exhausted mother and daughter sluts out the door to my car.

Friday, 9 a.m.

Elaine is on her knees in my office, giving me my morning blowjob, her head back and mouth open as I stroke my cock and shoot a load of cum in her mouth. She smiles, swallows the load and jumps up to bend over my desk, her skirt pulled up around her waist, bare ass and cunt exposed expectantly.

"Sorry, Cunt. No fucking this morning."

"What?! Oh, please!! You know how much I need your cock in the morning! PLEEEEZE!!"

"Nope. Here's what I have for you instead." She turns to see me holding out the remote-controlled dildo -- a pink rubbery object with a bulbous head on one end of a five-inch shaft and a flat, round plate with little nubs on the other.

"Oh, no! Not that! You always turn it on at the worst times!"

"And you love it."

"I love it when you let me cum. But you usually just tease me with it!"

"And so you love it even more when I let you cum. Now, here. Put it in your cunt." Elaine takes the pink plastic cylinder in her hand and slides it into her cunt, which was wet with anticipation of a good fucking. When fully inserted, the nubby round plate fits snugly against her clit. I slide the controller on my phone up a couple of notches. Elaine lets out a startled yelp as the synthetic cock begins thrusting in and out in a fairly realistic simulation of a real cock. "Just checking to make sure it works! I see it does. How about this one?" I slide the other control and can tell from her reaction that the nubs are rubbing her clit.

"OK. That's all you get for now. Now wipe the cum off your face and get back to work." I get her patented pouty look, but she cleans herself up, adjusts her skirt, and exits my office.

Friday, 9:30 a.m.

"Hello, bitch. It's me. I'm coming over to your place at 4 o'clock this afternoon. You need to start getting ready for Martin and Alice's party."

"Yeah, I know I said we're not leaving until seven, but I have something special planned for you. I'll see you at four."

I click off the phone and call up the app that controls Elaine's vibrator. I set the clit nubs on low. She is probably in a project meeting right now. I can imagine her squirming in her chair and the looks she is getting from Rhonda and her junior staff. After about 15 minutes, I turn the vibration up for about a minute and then turn it off. I repeat this sequence at sporadic intervals throughout the day. Several times, I accompany the clit buzz with some slow thrusting of the artificial cock deep in her cunt. I want her really horny for tonight.

Friday, 4 p.m.

Melva is nervous when she comes to the door. She has no idea what I have in mind, but it can't be good. I brush her aside and pour myself a scotch.

"Come into the bedroom and take your clothes off." She hastens to obey, and is soon standing naked before me. I admire her body. She is really sexy for a woman pushing 50. Of course, the full, round tits were purchased, and there are probably some other parts that have been artificially enhanced, but it's a really good job. Her ass is round and firm, her belly flat, and her legs long and slender without being skinny. Really nice body. Those Palm Beach surgeons know what they are doing.

"Go get the toy box." She moves to the closet and takes her box of bondage equipment off the shelf, returns, and sets it at my feet. "Turn around and bend over." As she does, I lube up a moderate-sized butt plug. She gives a little yelp as I force it up her ass, but then calms down and accepts it. "Good girl. Now sit down in the chair in front of your laptop."

I reach into the box and take out several lengths of nylon rope. I fasten her ankles to the chair legs with two of them and her forearms to the arms of the chair with two more. Just to ensure that she is totally restrained, I wrap a longer piece of rope around her waist, tying it snuggly to the back of the chair.

"Open wide." I insert a ball gag in her mouth and secure the straps behind her head. I step back and admire my handiwork. I really love the sight of a beautiful woman helplessly bound. I resist the temptation to take advantage of the situation with some of the instruments of pain in the toybox.

"OK. I have a little entertainment for you, Bitch." I fire up the laptop and insert a flash drive, then open a file on it. On the screen, the image of a hogtied woman, suspended from the ceiling of a bare, dingy cellar, appears. A tall, heavyset man wearing a black hood over his face appears. In his hand is a leather flogger. With his free hand, he squeezes the woman's dangling tits and pulls and twists her nipples. Melva is transfixed.

As the sadist on the screen raises his flogger and brings it down hard on the woman's ass, I turn and leave the room. I settle into a comfortable chair in Melva's living room and sip my scotch. I look at my watch. 4:15. Excellent. The video will run for an hour and a half, long enough to work Melva up into a frenzy of need for sexual release, but still giving her time to get ready for the party. It contains several scenes of physical abuse like the opening one, then a few of bound women being fucked by monstrous cocks. The finale, the piece de resistance, is my video of Melva being gangbanged by Big Joe's crew at the Night Owl. I sit back and enjoy my scotch.

Friday, 5:30 p.m.

I enter the bedroom just as, on the screen, Randy pulls out of Melva's cunt, to be replaced by Little Joe's massive tool. Bound in her bedroom chair, Melva is straining at her bonds, sweat streaming down her face and cunt juice dripping onto the chair and floor. In between gasping breaths, muffled cries escape around the ball gag. She is wild-eyed with lust. I can see that she is reliving the whole Night Owl experience. She actually cries out in pain when the virtual Little Joe rams his foot-long cock balls-deep into her virtual cunt. She is oblivious to me.

I sit back on the bed and watch her struggle and moan and cry until the video winds down with an image of Melva slumped exhausted on the poolroom floor. At that point, the real life Melva slumps forward in her chair, still gasping for breath. I take pity on her and remove the ball gag.

"Oh, please, sir!! Please use me!! I need it so badly!! I need to be whipped and fucked!! Hard!!"

"Now, now, Bitch. You need to calm down. There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now we have a party to get ready for. I'm going to untie you, but you need to promise me you will keep your hands off your slutty cunt until I say you can play with it. OK?"

"But, sir! I need to cum so badly!!"

"You heard what I said, Bitch. You are not to touch that filthy cunt until I say so. OK? Or do you want me to just leave you tied up and rerun that video?"

Her head falls forward, and in a low voice she murmurs, "OK".

"I need to hear you say it."

In a louder voice, "OK".

"OK, what?"

"OK, I won't make myself cum until you tell me I can, sir."

"That's better. Now let's get these ropes off you and get you dressed for the party." I undo the ties and Melva struggles to her feet, her legs weak from her exertions against her bonds. "Go into the bathroom and take a shower. You're a sweaty, sloppy mess. You've got cunt juice running down your legs like you peed yourself. What a slut!" Red-faced, she hurries off to clean up. I return to my chair in the living room and freshen my scotch, then wait for Melva to emerge from the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, I hear the hair dryer run, then turn off. I go back into the bedroom. "OK. Now I want you to put on the dress and jewelry we picked out the other night. Nothing under it. And remember, go heavy on the eye makeup."

Just then the door buzzes. I look at my watch. Exactly 7 p.m. Elaine is getting better at this punctuality thing. I go to let her in. She is wearing the floor-length, electric blue dress we chose Wednesday night. It fits tight on her round ass and plump thighs, the deep-cut neckline showing lots of tit and deep cleavage.

"Turn around." She pirouettes for me. "Lift your dress. Higher." She gathers the dress up around her waist. She is, as always required, wearing no panties. "Good. I see that you still have your vibrator in. Have you taken it out since I put it in?"

"No! And you nearly drove me crazy all day, switching it on and off!"

"That was the intent. Did you finger yourself during the day?"

"No. I can't, with that damn device in me!"

"That was also the intent. I want you to leave it in for the party. Now go into the bedroom and help your mother get ready. And put on some more eye shadow. And some sparkles -- I'm sure the Palm Beach bitch has some."

Ten minutes later, they both return to the living room and stand for inspection. I make each of them pirouette and raise her skirt, just to be sure they have followed my instructions, then open the door and usher them out into the hallway. In another ten minutes, we are in the Beemer, top up to protect hairdos from the wind, heading out to Virginia. Elaine is in the passenger seat and Melva is in the back. Both are squirming for want of sexual release, and Melva is huddled in a semi-fetal position, in part because the back seat of a BMW convertible is pretty small and in part because she is still recovering from her bondage session.

Friday, 8:30 p.m.

We pull up in front of Martin and Alice's home, a big white neo-antebellum thing on acres and acres of land, guarded by a high stone wall, with a huge iron gate opening onto a long, curving drive. Very impressive. Martin and Alice have even more money than I thought. We are met at the front steps by a doorman in white coat and gloves, who holds the door of the Beemer to allow the ladies to exit, then takes the keys from me and whisks the car away.

We make our way up a broad set of steps to a veranda lined with columns that runs the considerable length of the house. At the front door, we are greeted by a beaming Martin. "Good to see you! I'm so glad you could come! Let's see -- I've met Cunt. And this must be the lovely mother you told me about. Welcome to our home! Please. Come in and let me get you a drink."

Melva looks relieved by this show of genteel hospitality. I'm not sure what she was expecting, but it probably involved whips and chains. Elaine, of course, has a pretty good idea what a get-together with this couple will involve. Martin escorts the two women through the ornate front door. I follow.

We walk into a large living room -- a ballroom, really -- with a marble floor, walls covered with large portraits and tapestries, and an enormous crystal chandelier. Milling about talking and sipping drinks are about eight couples, most of them formally dressed in tuxedoes and ballgowns. I am relieved to see that several of the men, including Martin, are, like me, wearing business suits.

Martin looks around and, finally spotting his target, beckons in that direction. Alice dutifully approaches, bearing a tray of champagne flutes. She is wearing a skimpy black and white maid's uniform and very high black heels. And nothing else. Her apron barely covers her cunt and nothing covers her bare ass. Her tits are clearly visible when she moves and the top of the apron gaps. As my two sluts take a glass of champagne from the tray, Martin watches me size Alice up, then whispers, in an amused tone, "This is incredibly embarrassing for her. She loves the humiliation." We each take a flute of champagne, then Martin invites us to meet some of his other guests.

We spend the next hour or so chatting and mingling. As a veteran of many Palm Beach cocktail parties, Melva does this quite naturally, exchanging meaningless chatter with the women and batting her eyes at the men while listening to their tales of worldly success with rapt attention. Elaine is less comfortable with the scene, and sticks close to my elbow. Every now and then, I take out my cell phone and give her vibrator a little jolt, alternating between the clit buzzer and the thrusting internal shaft. She squirms uncomfortably as she tries to suppress the feeling coursing through her body, torn between wanting even more so that she can have the orgasm she longs for and, knowing that that is not going to happen, wanting me to turn it off.

Over the course of the hour, a few more couples arrive. I chat with some of the men and flirt with the women, feeling them out for later, more intimate exchanges. There are actually some really interesting people -- and beautiful women -- here. I am particularly impressed with one couple. George is a Washington lobbyist who seems very well connected on the Hill, especially with regard to tax policy. His wife Paula is a gorgeous younger woman, clearly a trophy wife. She is wearing a tight black dress shot through with sparkly silver threads, with a mesh top that leaves little to the imagination. Her smiles at me seem more than social niceties.

At about 9:30, Martin gives me a heads-up signal. It is time. I excuse myself from George and Paula and, Elaine in tow, wend my way to where Melva is engaged in conversation with a woman who is going on about her latest civic cause. She is clearly relieved when I appear and extract her from this insipid conversation and tell her to come with me.

Martin escorts us to an unobtrusive door at the back of the hall. As we approach it, I realize that there are a number of couches and easy chairs arranged theater-style around the door. Through the door we enter a rather cluttered room with a variety of wood and metal paraphernalia, the purpose of which is not always obvious. The sluts look around apprehensively.

"All right, sluts. It's time for the entertainment of the evening. That's you." Both women give me a startled look as the realization of what is about to happen dawns on them. "Take off those fancy dresses and put these on." I hand them each a garter belt and a pair of whorish fishnet stockings. They hesitantly comply. As they finish buckling the garter straps, I fasten leather cuffs around each of their ankles, then do the same to their wrists. I finish off their attire with studded collars.

I step back and increase the level of Elaine's vibrator a notch or two, then extract several short chains from the box that had contained the cuffs. "Put your hands behind your back." Melva dutifully obeys. Elaine hesitates. "NOW." Her hands go behind her back. I connect the wrist cuffs by fastening a short chain to clips on each cuff, then do the same for the ankle cuffs. My two submissive sluts now stand before me, naked except for garter belt, stockings, and high heels, manacled hand and foot.

"OK. In a minute, you are going to walk through that door and provide entertainment for all the nice people you've been mingling with all evening. This is going to be embarrassing and humiliating. But you will get all the orgasms you can handle. And remember our deal. You can say no right now, put your dress back on, and walk out that door. That will, of course, terminate our relationship. That's also part of our deal. Are you in or out?"

They look at each other uncertainly. Even after everything they have been through, I think each is more concerned about what the other will think if they submit to this humiliation than they are about actually being displayed and used before an audience of high-class people. Finally, Elaine, eyes downcast, mortified to admit that her craving for orgasmic relief is so overwhelming that she will accept any level of humiliation to obtain it -- and undoubtedly motivated in part by the waves of sensation coursing through her body from the vibrator -- mutters, "I'm in."

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you."

"I said I'm in."

"You're in for what?"

"I'm willing to entertain these people."

"Good girl. I think I can remove this now." I reach between Elaine's legs and pull out the vibrator.

"Bitch?"

For Melva, the humiliation is what she craves. And she is mortified to admit how much she wants it. She hesitates, then answers with a meek,"Yes."

"Yes what? And speak up."

"Yes, I'm willing to entertain these people."

"Great. Martin, could you go out and let your guests know that the entertainment is about to begin? I'll bring out the pedestals. I assume you will introduce us?"

"Certainly." With that, Martin exits the room, back into the ballroom. I look around and locate two wooden pedestals, each about two feet square and six inches high. I motion for the sluts to stay put, then take the pedestals out into the ballroom and place them about three feet apart, in front of the guests who are now assembling expectantly on the sofas and chairs. I come back and retrieve the box that had contained the cuffs and chains, which I carry out and set near the pedestals. Returning to the doorway, I address the two sluts. "OK. Show time. I want you to walk through this door and step up onto those pedestals."

"We can't walk with these chains on our ankles!!"

"Sure you can. You just have to take smaller steps." With a look of exasperation, Elaine turns and begins shuffling toward the door. Melva follows.

As the two approach the pedestals in front of the door, Martin addresses the group. "All right, folks! I am really pleased to present our entertainment for the evening -- brought to you by my good friend Lawrence." I smile and wave to the crowd. "On my right is his sub slut Cunt. And on my left is Bitch. Now, here's what's special about these two sluts: Bitch is Cunt's mother!" An audible murmur ripples through the assembled group. "Alice. Please refresh everybody's drinks." Alice hurries to bring out another tray of champagne. "Now, without further ado, I will turn things over to Lawrence."

I step forward, then pause to watch the two try to step up onto their pedestals with their ankles chained together. The chain is barely long enough to allow one foot to be on the pedestal and the other on the ground. On her first try, Elaine's foot slips off the pedestal and she nearly falls to the ground. The audience laughs. A woman in the back calls out, "Come on, slut! You can do better than that!" More laughter. Finally, both women manage to step up onto the pedestals and stand shame-faced, eyes downcast, naked except for their whorish stockings and high heels.

"Thank you, Martin. And thanks to all of you for coming. We are really pleased to be here. Well, I am, anyway." Audience laughs. "As Martin mentioned, Cunt here is Bitch's daughter. So we're going to see a little mother-daughter quality time. But first, I'd like to give you all a chance to inspect the merchandise, as it were. Come on up if you would like to get an up close and personal look at these two sluts."

Couples look at each other, smile, and rise to come toward the helpless women. Drinks in one hand, they grope and prod the two with the other. After stroking their tits and asses, the men move their hands to the sluts' cunts, while the women squeeze their tits and pull and twist their nipples.

"Wow, this one is already soaking wet!" "Yeah, so is this one. These sluts must really be horny." "Their nipples are hard as rocks!" "They're loving this! Look at the cunt juice running down their legs!" By now, men have two fingers in each of their cunts, pumping hard. The naked sluts are beginning to moan and writhe.

An older woman in a black dress with an evil glint in her eye is twisting Melva's nipple. "Do you like that, slut? Huh? Do you want it harder?" Eyes closed, gasping for breath, Melva manages to nod yes. "Oh, you do like that, don't you? What a nasty cunt!" She gives the nipple one last hard tug, then slaps Melva's ass as hard as the can. Melva lets out a yelp as her body jerks forward. "This is going to be fun," the woman says with a smile. "I'll be seeing you again later."