Belinda and Jacqueline

Laney rolled down the window, letting the late summer breeze skim across her face, as Jacqueline carried on about how clever (and deceitful) Belinda could be in getting what she wanted. Laney was amused at the lengths Belinda went to, faking an accounting entry, creating false documentation, and forming a shell company, all to entrap Dean into making her submit to him.

Jacqueline took a few sips of her takeout coffee before telling Laney about Dean. Laney immediately perceived that Dean would be the greater challenge. Whereas Belinda was searching for someone like Laney, a kindred spirit who understood what she really wanted, and needed, Dean was a typical thirty something male, prideful, ego driven, and somewhat self-absorbed. Laney saw a number of parallels to her on again off again boyfriend Troy. Troy was also a student at UCLA, and was brought to heel by Mistress Claire, who taught him the power of submission.

"So what are you hoping to achieve?" Laney asked, as Jacqueline pulled into her two car garage. The willowy blonde took her overnight bag out of the trunk. "Are you interested in domination or submission?"

Jacqueline used the keypad on the outside of the garage to shut the door. "I don't know. I've always been interested in your lifestyle, if anything, as a voyeur, but Belinda has caused me to question whether I'd like to do more than watch."

Laney chuckled softly. "Jacqueline, I've known you for what, almost fifteen years? You like control, girl. I think you're going to like this. If you don't, I'll refund your money."

"Well, given that you're doing this for free, that's not much of a confidence builder."

"How about this," Laney offered, knowing that Jacqueline had been interested in Laney, but nothing had ever come of it, "I'll do whatever you want if you don't want Belinda or Dean."

"That's a deal." Jacqueline opened the back door to her house and let Laney in. The offer was intriguing. Jacqueline and Laney had never hooked up, good friends but never lovers.

They entered the kitchen and the madam of the house opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of her favorite chardonnay. She opened the bottle and poured two glasses, handing one to Laney. "So do you need anything from me for tonight?"

Laney thought for a moment. She brought a whole bagful of toys. "Show me where you'd like to play."

Jacqueline led her to the door to the unfinished basement. They went down an open wood stairway to a large room that was the same size as the ground floor. A corner of the basement was outfitted as a workout area, with a rubber floor, bench, a full set of free weights, and a stationary bike. The ceiling wasn't finished, so the wood floor joists holding up the ground floor were fully exposed. There were metal poles supporting the ground floor every ten feet.

Laney scanned the basement area. "It's perfect. Where's your tool chest?"

Jacqueline pointed to the corner opposite to the workout area. "All the tools I have are kept in the tool chest. I've got some screws and nails as well."

Laney dropped her bag on the floor. She got busy making modifications to the play area.

"I'll start dinner." Laney was unpacking her bag and could hear Jacqueline go back up the stairs.

* * *

"That was terrific." Laney dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She just took the last bite of her spaghetti alla carbonara. She washed it down with a vintage Brunello.

"The key is the pancetta. There's a salumeria downtown that makes their own." Jaqueline refilled Laney's wine glass. "How did it go downstairs?"

"Excellent. I was able to make all the modifications I planned. We're ready."

Laney took her dishes to the sink, scraped the scraps into the sink, and put them in the dishwasher. "What time are they coming?"

"Nine ... about an hour from now."

* * *

Dean and Belinda arrived at Jacqueline's house about the same time. They met on the sidewalk and started walking toward the house. Dean rarely ventured to the nicer side of town and was in awe of the Tuscan style villa. The entrance was framed by two magnificent Italian cypresses. It made his modest house look like a shack. Dean and Belinda stood on the porch together. They looked at each other.

"Fine, I'll do it." Dean pushed the button for the doorbell.

The outside light snapped on and the front door opened. Laney was standing in the doorway. Both Belinda and Dean were perplexed.

"I'm sorry, is this Jacqueline Dubois' house?" Dean eyed the sexy blonde, hoping it was.

"It is." Laney opened the door wide open. "Come in," she said in a welcoming voice.

Dean was ecstatic at seeing Laney, wearing a black silk blouse, black skinny jeans and heels. The slender blonde was every bit as attractive as Jacqueline, and possibly nicer. Dean couldn't have been more wrong. Laney's good looks and breezy personality belied the sadistic streak just below the surface.

Jacqueline arrived in the foyer as the guests were let in. "Dean, Belinda, so good to see you. Let me take your jackets. Laney will show you the living room and get you some drinks."

The two guests entered the oversized living room, craning their necks to take in the twelve foot ceilings, and then admiring the grand piano and oversized marble fireplace that graced the room. Belinda took a seat on the sofa and shifted uncomfortably as she was unable to calm her nerves. She decided to wear the taupe jersey dress that she had just purchased, and adjusted the material crisscrossing her bust, the stretchy material barely containing her DD cup breasts. Laney arrived in the living room with a tray carrying the drinks Belinda and Dean ordered, along with fresh glasses of chardonnay for Jacqueline and herself. Jacqueline followed.

Dean was sitting in a dark brown leather club chair. He accepted his vodka and tonic in a tall, narrow glass and wondered if he had stumbled into the best situation of his life. Belinda was on the sofa. She was unquestionably the horniest slut he had ever met and was willing to do whatever he wanted. Jacqueline was a red meat litigator, but somehow she didn't appear as daunting in her sheer cream colored blouse, dark blue skirt cut six inches above her knees, and matching caged heels with thin straps going halfway up her calves.

Jacqueline swirled the wine in her glass, smelled it, and then took a healthy sip, swishing it in her mouth. The citrus notes with a hint of oak pleased her. Her questions didn't please Dean.

"Dean, what possessed you to ask Belinda for my panties? You know I'm a lesbian, don't you?"

"Y ... yes," he stammered, surprised that he was already on the hot seat and realizing this wasn't going to be the fun and games her was hoping for. He took a healthy draw off his vodka and tonic, praying the alcohol would dull his senses and his anxiety.

"So ... the panties?" Jacqueline was a seasoned litigator and wasn't going to let Dean off the hook.

"Well ... umm ... I think you're the best looking woman in the office." Dean was relieved he was able to spit this out without sounding like a complete jerk.

"I'm flattered," said Jacqueline at the backhanded compliment. She actually wasn't flattered. She still thought Dean was another good looking guy who was guided by superficial appearances and his dick.

A perverse thought entered Laney's head. After all, she had the smuttiest mind, even including Belinda.

"Dean, fair is fair. Why don't you give your underwear to Jacqueline?"

"Now?" asked Dean, the three women in the room looking at him.

"Are you arguing with Laney?" The redhead was using her courtroom voice.

Dean retreated quickly. He was seriously outgunned in this house. "No ... no." He took his shoes off, then stood up and unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants down to his ankles. There was a prominent bulge in his boxer shorts. He slowly lowered his briefs, his impressive erection bobbing in front of three sets of eyes.

"The briefs?" asked Laney, the embarrassment clearly making Dean forget why he lowered his pants.

"Oh ... yeah." Dean took off his pants and briefs and handed the briefs to Jacqueline.

"That's a start," sniffed Jacqueline, tossing Dean's boxers on the floor without looking at them.

Laney had seen this reaction before with her boyfriend Troy. "Humiliation becomes you Dean."

"Wh .. what?"

"You heard me."

"No ... it doesn't."

"I think your penis disagrees." Jacqueline and Laney laughed. Belinda put her hand over her face to hide her smile.

"Dean, why don't you take a seat and finish your drink." Jacqueline turned to Belinda. "Belinda, you look nice today."

"Why thank you." Belinda's face turned a bright shade of crimson. She was already aroused by Dean's humiliation. Jacqueline's compliment heightened her arousal.

"Do you want me? Do you like women?" Jacqueline didn't know.

Belinda was surprised by the question. Belinda wanted everyone, man or woman, and Jacqueline was a highly attractive woman. "Of course ... Jacqueline. Did ... did you want me to call you Mistress Jacqueline?"

It was Jacqueline's turn to be surprised. She had of course never had that question asked of her. She looked over to Laney, who nodded her head.

"Of course. That would be fine. So how old are you Belinda?"

"Thirty-five, Mistress Jacqueline."

"So why did you wait thirty-four years to express your submissive desires?"

That was a good question, worthy of thought and an organized answer. "Ever since I started having sex, which was my freshman year in college, I've always felt empty after words. I didn't know the reason until I went to a bachelorette party when I was a senior. One of my friends from high school was getting married, and had the party in a hotel in Las Vegas. She arranged to have a few male strippers show up and they were playing pornographic movies on the hotel television. I've never been a fan of porn and ignored the movies. But one scene caught my eye. It was a woman who was being dominated by four big African-American men. In the few times I'd seen movies like this, it was always conventional sex. This movie was anything but conventional. The woman was manacled, laying on a sturdy wooden bench, and her wrists and ankles were chained together under the bench so she couldn't move. The men took turns fucking her while they were also ramming their big cocks down her throat."

"Why did that arouse you?"

"I don't know. I just know I was. It spoke to me. More than you can imagine."

"I can imagine," said Laney. "It's all that I think about."

Belinda looked at her as a kindred spirit. So Laney was a submissive. Finally, she met someone like herself. She tugged on her dress to expose more of her leg and adjusted the top of her dress to show more of her hard not to notice breasts.

"So it took me almost ten years to screw up the courage to do it."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Enjoy it? I loved every moment. That's why I'm here. I think that's why we're all here." Belinda said it with confidence.

Dean shifted in his seat. "I'd like to say something ...".

A voice boomed over him. It was Jacqueline. In her best Queen's English, she gave a profanity laced order.

"What part of shut the fuck up do you not understand? Belinda cowered and Dean sat down immediately, and he shut the fuck up.

The redhead broke into a smile, turning to Laney. "I kind of like this."

Jacqueline's eyes swept across the room -- Belinda in an alert position waiting for the next order; Dean bewildered by his position -- he was always on the other end of the stick, and then Laney, who was snaking a finger under her panties to play with herself. Laney looked over and stared at Jacqueline while she fingered herself, every bit the slut she said she was.

The sexual tension was building as each person in the room finished their drink and looked at the others in the room. Laney knew this feeling well, and decided they needed an outlet, and that Dean and Belinda would be the logical persons to break the ice.

Laney fixed her eyes on Belinda until Belinda saw hers. She pointed her finger towards Dean. Belinda nodded and got up out of her chair. Before she could take the first step ...

"Knees ... bitch," Laney barked. She muttered something under her breath. Belinda dropped to her kneels and crawled across the sumptuous Persian rug that covered the entire middle of the room. She stopped in front of Dean's club chair. Dean leaned a bit back on his chair when Belinda invaded his personal space. She was so close he could see all the way down her dress. He had yet to have his way with her luscious tits.

Belinda looked at Laney for further direction, still fully clothed, in front of Dean, his cock sticking straight up. Even though Dean was confused, his cock wasn't. His cock would not be disappointed.

Laney swept her eyes toward Dean's turgid cock. Belinda's eyes followed. She then looked at Laney, letting the tip of her tongue slip out of her mouth and raising her eyebrows, as if to ask a question. Laney nodded. Jacqueline watch with amused interest at the erotic, silent communication.

Belinda rested her hands on Dean's chair and moved her head under Dean's balls so she could lick that little sensitive area of rippled skin between the anus and the scrotum.

"Oh, shit," Dean cried out at the shock of pleasure administered by Belinda's tongue. His cock bobbed against his hardened abs.

The voracious slut swabbed his balls, sucking each one in her mouth until she made Dean sigh, then tracing the tip of her tongue along the underside of his cock before stretching her mouth open to accommodate the girth of his tool, her lips now retracing a path taken a few days before.

She knew how to make Dean cum. The last time she had deepthroated him while playing with his anus. He didn't last more than fifteen seconds after that. Her nose was embedded in his thicket of dark, curly pubic hair and her finger traced its way to his butthole.

"Jesus, Belinda ... oh God ..." Dean chanted as Belinda's oral skills were taking him over the edge.

"Don't you cum, motherfucker," Laney shouted, startling everyone in the room, including herself.

The familiar tingle in Dean's dick faded just before he was about to shoot his wad. Belinda kept licking though, and he was coming around the bend again. This time there was no forestalling the inevitable.

"Shit ... shit ... shit ..." Dean uttered as each volley of cum was deposited in Belinda's throat. This was better than she dreamed, however she failed to keep her lips sealed around his cock and a stream of thick, white sperm dripped out of her mouth and down the side of the leather cushion and then onto the beautiful handmade rug.

Jacqueline pressed the sides of her chair with her hands as she was about to get up. Laney reached over and stopped her with her hand.

"Let me handle this."

"Whore!" Laney's call prompted Belinda to turn her head.

"Clean it up."

Belinda's nerves lit up at Laney's command. She always craved being ordered to perform depraved acts, and now she was getting her wish. She started with Dean, lapping up the cum that was still on his cock. Then she licked the seat cushion until it was glossy with her saliva.

Laney got up out of her seat and inspected Belinda's work. She pointed to a glop of cum that was on the rug. Belinda put her face next to it and plucked the cum off the carpeting, careful not to pick up too many carpet fibers. She swallowed and showed Laney her empty mouth.

"She's a good slut. However that worthless piece of shit who can't follow orders needs to be punished."

Dean was happy until she heard Laney's last statement. He wasn't excited about the prospect of being punished, but of course he didn't know if under that male swagger there was a closet submissive hiding underneath. Or, with three beautiful women in the room, at least a submissive with benefits.

"Why don't you take them downstairs and utilize your handiwork?" asked Jacqueline. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Let's go sluts." Laney led them to the door to the basement, Dean walking uncomfortably with only his shirt on, but otherwise naked.

* * *

Belinda was naked and hogtied to Jacqueline's weight lifting bench. Dean's wrists were bound together with leather cuffs, with the cuffs attached to a rope that was threaded through a pulley Laney attached to an overhead floor joist. She wrapped the end of the rope around a metal cleat so that Dean was stretched out so his feet were barely touching the ground. She put a black leather hood over their heads, with holes only cut out for their noses and mouths.

Jacqueline descended the stairs in all black, much like Laney, with a tight low cut top, skintight pants, and high heel pumps. Dean's anxiety grew as he heard the click of Jacqueline's heels on the wooden stair treads, the sound echoing off the concrete walls.

The redhead laughed as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "Looks like these sluts are all tied up."

Laney pulled Jacqueline closer and kissed her full on the lips. "Ummmm," the blonde purred as her friend parted her lips to let their tongues tangle. "This gets me so horny I can't stand it."

Belinda felt the same way. She wanted to go first. She had been waiting for this moment for her whole life, to be used by two beautiful women, one an experienced submissive. Laney would know what she would want and how she wanted it. She would have to wait a bit longer.

"Dean needs to be punished first. He's a worthless slut who can't take the simplest of instructions."

Dean was quaking. He had been dangling from the ceiling for at least a half hour, and his legs were getting weak. His head was coated in sweat, encased in the leather hood. He had no idea what was coming, but felt he was fully prepared to withstand whatever they could dish out. He viewed himself as stronger than Belinda, not realizing this game of wills was mental, not physical. Dean's emotions were transparent and easy to manipulate.

Laney came up to him to begin the game. She unbuttoned her shiny lowcut black blouse all the way down to her waist. She opened it up and then undid the front clasp of her black lace bra. Her pert upright breasts were jutting out. Dean heard punishment but his cock heard pussy. She leaned down and batted his rigid dick between her breasts.

"Ohhhh," Dean groaned at the exquisite torture. Laney had already won the first round. He would have done anything to feel the soft flesh of her breasts again.

"That's not real punishment. This is." She clipped a weight to his balls, uncomfortably stretching the skin of his scrotum. Laney pushed the weight with her fingers so it arced back and forth. Dean groaned. Jacqueline marveled at the sadistic streak she knew about, but have never seen in Laney.

"So you wanted Jacqueline's panties. Is it because you're a worthless pervert, as well as a slut?" She licked the underside of his penis, the push of her tongue making the weight swing back and forth, the exquisite pain/pleasure cocktail served to him by the California surfer girl. "Tell me!"

The mixture of pain, pleasure and fatigue dulled Dean's senses. "I ... uhh ... I'm a pervert."

The admission wasn't good enough for Laney.

"What else?"

"I'm a whore ... a worthless whore."

"That's right. Now you came without permission. Does that deserve punishment?"

Dean knew what he needed to say. He was reluctant to say it, knowing it was permission for some unknown form of punishment. But to argue would be to magnify the punishment.

"I do Miss Laney." It hurt for Dean to parse out the words. Belinda of course wished that it was her speaking the words.

Laney went into her satchel and extracted her favorite toy. It was a riding crop with an extra large leather tab so each strike would inflict maximum pain. She preferred it when her Domme (Mistress Elaine) used it on her.